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arminsumi · 7 months

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DO IT RIGHT — 五夏

SatoSugu ⋅ fem reader

🔞 suggestive / partly n.sfw

SUMMARY — Suguru and Satoru each have their own differing ideas of what makes a good make out session.

WARNINGS — make outs n kissing, SatoSugu, jealousy, light angst, they fight over u, lovably annoying gojo, calling you sl*t playfully, "dirty girl" n maybe other nicknames, smidge of sexual tension/undertones ig

WORDCOUNT — 2.4k

TAGS for the lovelies !! 💗

@buttercupmuffins

" Slow and sensual; that's how it's supposed to be done, Satoru. You rush your kisses. You're too chaotic. "

" Yuh but I get more bitches than y — "

" — when was the last time you kissed a woman ? "

" Junior high. "

Suguru started cackling. The two of them were sat in your living room apartment. You peered at them from over your computer, the blue light glaring in your eyes.

" What the fuck are you two on about ? " you asked, taking your earphones out completely and halting the progress of your essay.

" None of your business. "

You sighed in response. That was such an expected response from Satoru.

" We were debating what makes a good make out session. You know, like ' fast or slow ' ? ' Chaotic or sensual ' ? Mister six eyes over here has opposition to my beliefs as usual — don't fuckin' wink at me, you freak. "

Satoru giggled. " Of course, 'cause your beliefs are flawed and quite frankly you're full of shit. Blech. Hey, you agree, don't you ? "

You looked up in thought for yourself.

" I don't know. See, chaotic movie-like kisses are something lots of people want. But then again, lots of people prefer slow and romantic kisses. They really want to intertwine bodies with their lover and — "

Suguru completed your thought.

" — and become one with each other. Yeah, you get me. "

" Hey now, I'm not saying I agree with either of you. I haven't even kissed one of you. Maybe you're both shit at kissing, now that I think 'bout it. Haha. " you chuckled to yourself.

The boys raised their brows at you. Ah, a common ground; both taking offense from you.

" Why don't you come over here 'n experiment with us, princess ? " Suguru murmured condescendingly. His earrings caught your eye.

Your stomach dropped. " Huh ? " you blinked dumbly.

" Don't get all coy with us now. Come over here. " Suguru teased.

Satoru arched a brow at you and smirked. " Yeah, come. You can help us settle this debate. "

" Mhm. " Suguru nodded.

You were reluctant, because... well, this could fuck up the friendship, right? They didn't seem to mind that, as they entrapped you between their bodies and kept you there. Imprisoned between their competing passion.

" Me first ? "

" Uh, no way, asshole. Me first. "

" I'll choose. "

" Nah, let's flip a coin. "

So they flipped a coin at Satoru's insistence.

" Call it. " Suguru said.

" Heads. " Satoru called.

You observed Suguru's attractive, veiny hands as he tossed the coin and caught it, smacking it onto the back of his hand.

" . . . heads. " Suguru groaned.

" Yay . . . smooches for Satoru. " Satoru cheered.

" You're so cringe. " you said, crinkling your nose.

" Shut up or I'll stick my tongue down your throat — "

" — you mean you weren't planning to do that ? What a pity. I like French kissing. " you teased.

That caught the boys attention. They exchanged a look, and now a tension built up between you three.

" Okay, if you want me to, then I will. " Satoru tried to remain confident, but the idea of French kissing you was destroying his cool composure.

" I want you to. So get to it, boy. " you said.

Suguru raised his brows at Satoru and smirked. He sat to your left, long leg propped along the edge of the couch, encasing you there.

Just before Satoru leaned in to kiss you, swift and cheeky as he was, Suguru interrupted with a quick, teacher-like stutter.

" Hey, nonono. We're setting a timer. Five minutes each, precisely. "

" Of course. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " Well hurry up then. "

" Impatient much ? " you chuckled under your breath. Satoru went a bit red.

The split second Suguru started the timer on his phone, Satoru engulfed you in a kiss that nearly knocked the wind out of you. He was chaotic. Feverish. Gliding those candied lips across yours was up there with the best decisions he's ever made.

He tilted his head into the kiss, tongue swiping and slipping in eagerly to play with yours. And with how he French kissed, you almost wanted to giggle; he was so playful.

Suguru watched. And observed. And thought about how he's going to win you over with his approach to kissing. What you needed, he thought while seeing how Satoru whimpered into your mouth, was a sensual man who takes his time.

" Time's up. "

" What the fu- "

A string of saliva connected you and Satoru, his lips felt tingly and he still wanted more even after devouring you.

" Five minutes go by so quick . . . "

" Uh-huh. When you're having fun. Sooo ? " Satoru looked at you expectantly.

" Rather hold back your judgment until you've tasted me, hm ? " Suguru stopped you before you made any comment on his best friend's kissing style. " Come on. Come closer. I don't bite. " he said, making the last part sound so sultry that a shiver ran down your spin.

Now Suguru . . . oh boy, Suguru. How he kissed. You were already dizzy from Satoru's fervor. But Suguru ? One little peck at your chin to test. Then he pressed teasing, leadup kisses to the corner of your lips.

" Su — " he muffled your call of his name with his lips, drinking up the rest of the syllables like a thirsty wolf.

His big hands molded to the back of your head, tangling up into your hair. Tilt tilt tilt. Press. Such a deep and hard kiss. You felt like your perception of reality got fucked up a little for a moment there.

He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, wetting it, and once you opened your mouth for him he just smirked at your acceptance. In his mind, he was aiming to kiss you like he was converting you. Damn near kissed like a cult leader, you don't know why but you thought of that description right then.

That buttery soft tongue made you moan. The sound caught both the boy's off-guard.

And then the poor white-haired boy started glaring.

" Okay, okay, time's basically up. "

" Hmmmf ? " you looked dazed.

" How much time was left before you just cancelled that ? " Suguru squinted annoyedly at his best friend, hands still keeping you in place. His lips were barely parted from yours, so every shake of subtle anger in his vocals vibrated subtly across your lips.

" I dunno, fifty-two seconds ? "

" That's almost a whole minute left you asshole ! "

" Yeah so ?! You gonna fight me over it, big boy ? " Satoru challenged.

" What are you getting so jealous for ? "

You widened your eyes at the argument springing to life. The air felt so tense and hot. You could feel their heats radiating from their faces as they flushed from anger.

" What are you kissing her so deeply for ? Are you trying to fucking prove something ? "

" Oooooooh, pretty boy is jealous jealous. " Suguru said venomously.

" Boys, please don't fight. This is not such a big deal. " your voice came in between them.

They looked at you bitterly.

" Whose kiss did you like better ? " Satoru asked.

" Mine. No offence, but Satoru you kiss like a fucking high schooler. "

Satoru clenched his jaw. " I was asking her — not you, Suguru, baby. "

Oh he's angry angry you thought. Satoru always used nicknames with people he liked, but when the word baby came out of his mouth in that tone? God have mercy on whoever's on the receiving end. Unless it was someone who could match that intensity...

" I'll tell you what I liked and disliked about both of you . . . to be fair. Okay ? How's that sound, boys ? "

God they loved it when you called them like that. Yeah, they're your boys alright. They loved being your boys.

" Okay . . . sure. That's fair. Go ahead. " Suguru said. A small nervousness crept across his chest, but he hid it well.

You paused for just a moment to collect your thoughts.

" Damn just spill already ! "

" Let her think, Satoru. Impatient bitch. "

" I will fucking bite you. "

" Then bite me. "

" Boys. Calm down. "

So they listened. Your word was supreme, after all. If you told them to stop, they stopped.

You tilted your head and slowly began laying the truth on them. " I liked the way you held the back of my head so possessively, it was really hot . . . " you told, directing at Suguru.

Satoru grimaced. Why didn't he do that? He was mentally kicking himself.

" . . . but I preferred how dramatically you kissed me. " you directed to the sulking white-haired boy. Then his features lightened a bit.

" And ? " Suguru encouraged, eager to hear more praises.

They leaned in very close for the fact they were just listening to you speak.

" I didn't like how sloppy and wet Satoru was. "

Satoru cringed at himself. He was very self-conscious about being a sloppy kisser.

" Haha, sloppy kisser. "

" Suguru shut the fuck up. "

You quickly turned down the heat between them and knocked Suguru off his high horse.

" You're a bit of a show-off kisser, not as romantic as I imagined you to be. It feels like you were trying too hard to win me over, or something. "

Oh, he hated that you could deduce that. He really thought he had you.

" Fair enough . . . " it was his turn to sulk.

Satoru smirked. " So you prefer me ? " he winked, " I mean, of course you do. "

" No. I like both of you. "

" Okay, slut. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " If you had to choose — "

" Don't worry about offending us, we can take it. "

" Yeah right, you're gonna fucking cry if she chooses me. " Satoru cheeked.

The tension rose between them again. But this time, there was this... oddly violent passion. Some sort of suppressed, stifled romanticness brewed between them. It's always underlined their conversations before, even their arguments. This indescribable, undeniable tension — not the jokingly " I'm so gay for my best friend " stuff. No, something genuine. Something that was not a joke.

" Why don't you kiss each other ? " you blurted out.

Satoru looked at you like you were crazy. " What the fuck ? "

" I mean, to make it fair . . . and get better insight into how the both of you kiss ? I-I don't know, just a thought. "

" Just a thought ? A horny thought I bet. " Satoru chuckled. He was going red in the face. And so was Suguru.

" What the hell. I'm innocent. " you defended.

" Riiight. "

Suguru had been thoughtfully quiet. Then he finally spoke.

" . . . I'm down. "

" WHAT. " Satoru freaked out. His face went completely red now. You could feel how hot he was.

" Yeah let's go for it. " Suguru shrugged.

He froze up. His heart palpitated. Stomach dropped. Eyes went blown wide open.

" I-I-I yeah ? Okay ? Sure. Yeah. Alright. Then. Let's. Do — it. "

" Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you stutter like this, Satoru. " you teased.

" Shut up ?! Shut up. Let's just do it and get it over with. "

" Yeah. Okay. Come here. "

" What the fu- you come here. "

Suguru raised his brows at him. " Seriously ? "

" I'm more dom than you. " Satoru said proudly. " Come here. "

" Nah, you come here. "

" No way ! "

You sighed. " Wow, this is going to take a while. "

" Nonono, we're doing it — " he kissed him, " — see ? "

" Satoru, such a cute peck. We're supposed to make out. That's what you want, right Y/n ? "

You stomach flipped. His tone. His damn tone. That cocky glint in his eyes. Suguru was so teasingly seductive right then.

" Y-yeah. For five minutes. Just like we did. "

" Okay. Set a timer. "

Satoru looked like he was shocked from how fast he just kissed his best friend. Such a short peck had his stomach doing loopies. You could tell he was going through a crisis.

" 'kay, timer's on. "

So they melted their lips against each other right in front of you. Satoru was stiff at first, but loosened up the deeper he fell into his best friend's kiss. More than that, he succumbed to the sultry feelings that Suguru radiated. You know, he just had that thing about him. That air. He was alluring and enticing, almost dangerously so at times.

You listened. Watched. Glanced down at the timer. Really, you set a stopwatch, not a timer. A little experiment. You wanted to see how long they'd take to realize how long they've been kissing for.

And it's well over five minutes. Lips smacking, heads tilting, bodies coming closer. Suguru's bangs brushing over Satoru's cheeks, hands cupping his flushed cheeks. What a sight. Two pretty best friends going breathless over each other.

" 'how long's it been ? " Satoru mumbles in between kisses, totally in a dazed state.

You hide your smirk. " Just a bit left. "

Suguru gave you a suspicious side eye. Oh, butterflies. He caught onto you right then.

He thought;

Well if you want us to put on a show, we'll put on a show. Just for you.

And dipped his tongue between Satoru's parted lips, erotically swirling around — slow, sensual, languid.

" ahmmm ~ " Satoru almost made a noise close to a moan, and then got embarrassed.

You gulped and watched. Did they forget they were doing this in front of you? Your face was right there.

You stared hard.

Suguru smirked and parted from the kiss, holding the face of a dazed-looking Satoru in the palms of his hands as he spoke to you.

" Did you even set a timer ? Ah, whatever. Stop staring, dirty girl. Come join the fun. Three's company, you know ? "

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babbiebooc · 3 months

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Something I wanna talk about that don’t think anyone else has noticed; during the Lucifer VS Adam fight, when Lucifer brought up Eve, Adam’s face went from this

To this

Hazbin Hotel Theory! Adam genuinely loved or at least cared about Eve waaaay more than Lilith.

If that’s the case I really hope Adam ended up in hell the same way Sir Pentious ended up in heaven, so when Eve does get introduced in the the show, we can see how they interact with each other and learn more about their relationship.

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel eve #sir pentious #theory #fan theory #love triangle #?#hazbin hotel theory #Hazbin hotel Adam X Eve #Adam X Eve

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gleafer · 4 months

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WHO WANTS TEARS IN THEIR CHEERIO’S???

All of you little angst-loving weirdos, that’s who. (It me. I’m weirdos.)

Have another dose of TRUE LOVE NEVER DIES part of the soon-to-be over but never recovered from ANGST WAR @goodomensafterdark

#illustrator #illustration #digital artist #artist on tumblr #crowley #good omens #good omens art #aziraphale #good omens aziraphale #gleafer #gleafer art #ineffable heartbreak #heartbreak #love triangle #gaimanverse #comic artist #good omens comic #love hurts #stomp on hearts

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fangirl-dot-com · 6 days

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🔄Reverse Tropes

🛏Too Many Beds Lando Norris x Engineer!Reader

🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader

😡Really Nice Guy Who Hates Only You Oscar Piastri x Celebrity!Reader

❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader

🔼Love Triangle, but the 2 Love Interests Fall for Each Other Lestappen x Driver!Reader

🧠Fake Amnesia Lando Norris x Fan!Reader

✉️Divorce of Convenience Carlos Sainz Jr. x ChildhoodSweetheart!Reader

🤨Everyone is Convinced that You Aren't Together Logan Sargeant x Driver!Reader

🔥Too Hot to Cuddle Oscar Piastri x Reader

🫂Voluntary Proximity Charles Leclerc x BestFriend!Reader

💔Fake Breakup [But You Two Weren’t Together in the First Place?] Lando Norris x Piastri!Reader

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sergeant x reader #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen imagine #carlos sainz imagine #oscar piastri imagine #lando norris imagine #reverse trope #love triangle #lestappen

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celestie0 · 21 days

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choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown.

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!”

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!”

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music.

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic.

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex.

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair.

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours.

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage.

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder.

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage.

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it.

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants.

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there.

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.”

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?”

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex.

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface.

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition.

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving.

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot.

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering.

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of.

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest.

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in.

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast.

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment.

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all.

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again. His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you.

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.”

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous.

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough.

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.”

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out.

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day.

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized.

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

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phoward89 · 1 month

Text

Based on this ask

Angst factor for this is thru the roof! And guess what? It's a series! I'm thinking this is going to have at least 3 parts. Masterlist

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), eventual smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker! Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC.

Chapter 1:

“I'm going home, find some other dumb whore to fuck.” You spat, flipping the blankets off your body and making to get out of the platinum blonde’s bed.

“Darling, don't be rash. Come back to bed.” Coriolanus told you, reaching his long arm out and wrapping his large hand around your wrist before you could truly move away from the bed.

“Come back to bed after you just told me that you're going to marry Livia Cardew?!” You screamed at him, feeling like you wanted to yank his pretty platinum blond curls right out of his head. “Are you nuts, Coriolanus?”

The man, whose beauty rivaled that of the Roman and Greek gods, narrowed his baby blues at you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he told you, “Stop overreacting, darling. It's an arranged marriage that doesn't mean anything.”

You arched a brow and tilted your head at him. “Oh, so that's supposed to make me feel better? Make everything okay?” You sarcastically asked, yanking your arm out of his grasp and flying out of his bed.

His king sized bed with the luxurious crimson satin sheets that you'll never inhabit again.

“Y/N-” Coriolanus began, only for you to loudly cut him off with a shriek of, “Don't, Coriolanus. Don't say a fucking word to me.” Shaking your head, you ironically scoffed, “I should've seen this coming. After all these years of sneaking around with you, I should've known that you'd pick some rich bitch to marry and have a family with.” Gathering your clothes, that were scattered all over the room, you heartbrokenly spat, “Not your poor neighbor girl that's only good for a good fuck whenever you're bored or need to get some pent up aggression out.”

“You're not-” Coriolanus began, icy blue eyes softening with an unchecked emotion (perhaps guilt?), as he watched you toss your things on the white rose upholstered bench at the foot of his bed.

“I love you, Coriolanus.” You softly sighed, barely loud enough for him to hear, while tossing your ruined lace panties at him. What use were the lacey things all torn to shreds?

Not much.

You grabbed your matching lace bra, quickly putting it on, while muttering, "I foolishly fell in love with you and you don't give a shit about me.” You’re on the verge of tears as you grab your dress. While pulling on your dress, you sadly sighed, “Never did and never will, but I guess I was hoping that maybe you would, but I was such a dumbass.”

Your words hit Coriolanus hard, like a 2x4 in the head hard. He never knew that you felt like this. Crawling over to the end of the bed, causing his pure white silk duvet to pool and crinkle around him, he reached out and took your hand in his before you could turn away to grab your heels. He looked at your face, silently willing you to look into his icy blue eyes (but you refused to give him the satisfaction- that manipulative fuck).

But maybe if you would've looked at his eyes you would've seen that they weren't gleaming or shining. That his icy blue eyes were dead and empty, like those of a shark.

Giving up on you looking at him, the platinum blonde man (who had his political dreams within reach) began to tell you in a velvety tone, “My darling rose, you’re not a dumbass. I'm sorry you're hurt, but-'”

But before he could continue his lies (Are they lies? Who knows, but you think they are.) you cut him off with, “Don't even finish your sentence. Just shut the fuck up and let me leave with whatever little piece of dignity I have left.”, while forcefully yanking your hand out of his.

“I won't shut the fuck up because I don't want you to leave.” Coriolanus told you, scrambling out of the bed, his long legs nearly tripping him as he chased after you.

You’re grabbing your heels as he tries to reason with you. “Announcing my engagement with Livia and marrying her is so I can gain political allies and power. It has nothing to do with love, in fact I hate her.” While sliding on your black kitten heels, a pricey designer pair with red sole bottoms- a gift from him (probably for your services…), he placed one of his large calloused hands on your shoulder. Coriolanus’ baritone was softer than usual as he revealed, “I want to be with you.”

“You don't want to be with me, you just want me as your mistress so you can have your kinky fucks.” You told him, pushing his hand off of your shoulder. Marching over to his dresser and grabbing your bag (some imported designer leather tote bag- dyed a deep shade of crimson- he gave you, most likely because you let him do whatever he wants to you between the sheets), you told him the blunt truth of, “You don't love me and I'm not going to stick by your side as your mistress.” Shouldering your bag, that matched the color of the manicure you just had done (which he insisted on paying for), you declared, “I deserve somebody to love me with their whole heart, not just their dick, so I'm leaving and never coming back.”

“Please, don't leave.” You heard him say as you walked out of his room.

“Please, baby, don't leave me!” He frantically begged, his voice a loud shout, as he followed you down the hall in a run. Barefeet loudly slapping against the marble floor, sounding almost ominous.

Thank goodness his Grandma’am's hearing was starting to go bad, otherwise she'd be waking up and seeing one hell of a show. Also, thank goodness Tigress moved out years ago, otherwise she'd be a witness to a messy breakup.

A breakup that was long overdue.

You ignored him, only to power walk to the main entrance of the penthouse. You were almost to the door whenever you felt his cold, long fingers wrap around your wrist like an octopus’ tentacles.

“Please, stay the night. We can discuss this in the morning, just-just don't leave me, little dove.” You heard him beg, sounding so unlike his confident self.

A part of you wanted to give in; turn around and melt into his arms. But another part of you, the part that has grown up with Coriolanus and has seen him manipulate everyone around him knew that he was just saying whatever he has to in order to pull your puppet strings; make you stay.

You decided not to turn around, not to give into him. Instead you roughly pulled yourself free of his hold and walked out the door.

You knew that the platinum blonde wouldn't dare follow you, since running after you naked with his well hung junk swinging in the wind would be scandalous.

Unknown to you, after you walked out the door and slammed it shut in his face, Coriolanus quickly ran to his room and tossed on his diagarded pants and shirt from the evening. He ran out the door, barefoot and still buttoning up his wrinkled shirt, in hopes of catching you in the lobby.

Since you were in the only elevator the building has, he ran down the 12 flights of exquisite marble stairs to reach the lobby. Nearly slipping and busting his ass a couple of times too.

But when he reached the lobby it was too late, you were getting into the back of a cab you hailed. As Coriolanus ran to the door of the lobby, he felt his cold, dead, black, too small of a heart shatter into a million pieces as he watched you close the cab’s door with tears shining like diamonds in your eyes.

Seeing you crying in the back of the cab while leaving him, something he knew that neither of you wanted, made him determined to get you back.

If he thought that Lucy Gray betraying and leaving him hurt, well you leaving him because you felt that he couldn't reciprocate your feelings of love (because he was going to have an arranged marriage with Livia Cardew for political reasons) gutted him. Made him feel like he wanted to die.

Coriolanus wanted you; he always has. It's why you've been together, on-off, since your freshman year at the Academy.

He has to woo you back. He just has to.

Because the thought of you moving on with another man just doesn't sit right with him.

It doesn't matter that Coriolanus’ engagement with Livia Cardew will be publicly announced soon, he needs you back.

He can't have another bird of his flying away, can he?

Ending your decade long on-off situationship with the Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow hurt. Oh gods, it hurt so fucking bad! You felt like you’re just going thru the motions everyday after the breakup. Like you’re just surviving, not truly living, since you’re so sad.

So heartbroken.

And what hurts the most was that, even tho you knew you could never truly be with him, you still love him.

And you'll probably always love him in a way, even tho he'll never love you. Because he's your first love; they say you never forget your first love. That you'll always have a special spot on your heart carved out just for them.

So when you saw the engagement announcement for Livia Cardew and Coriolanus Snow in the social pages of the newspaper, you thought you were going to be sick.

The picture used for the announcement was professionally done; made the newly engaged couple look so lovely together. It made you sad to say, but they did make quite a match.

Two golden lions, regal with the world at their feet. Their blonde hair, her's a dirty golden shade and his a near white platinum blonde, styled impeccably set off their beauty. A beauty that was showcased in matching black outfits, hers a black tea dress with flowing sleeves and his a 3-piece suit with a red/black striped tie.

They looked every bit a couple of the old guard. A couple worthy of money, glory, and power. You're positive that Grandma'am’s proud of him.

If only you knew how she really felt. How Grandma'am Snow always thought that it'd be you and her grandson posting an engagement announcement in the social section of the newspaper. How she's so disappointed at Coriolanus for picking a heinous bitch instead of you, a girl who's soul reminds her so much of her beloved late daughter-in-law (Coriolanus' mother).

Then you couldn't help, but think that maybe Livia’s better for Coriolanus. Better than you are for him. Maybe he'd be happier with her than with you. After all, she came with the largest bank of Panem attached to her name and you came with nothing. You had no money or jewels to offer, just yourself.

And you weren't good enough for him.

Coriolanus Snow always craved power, wealth, and prestige. None of which you could offer him. None of which you gave a shit about.

All you wanted was to be loved, but he couldn't do that for you. All the cold hearted schemer could do was buy you fancy, luxurious, expensive things.

You had no idea that gifting was his love language. That he enjoyed seeing your face light up when he presented you with some gift that you'd never be able to afford on your own. He got pleasure out of spoiling you; taking care of you.

Unfortunately for him, you’re tired of being a kept woman. You don't want him to buy you a bunch of high end things. You want him and since he can't give you his love, you left. You decided to move on.

Which is why you blocked his number, because you had to move on and find somebody that you would be more than enough for. And you couldn't do that with him blowing up your phone constantly. You also started looking for a new apartment, because you couldn't keep having him dropping off roses at your doorstep all the time.

And since your mother to lived on the 8th floor of Corso apartment the Snow penthouse was in, it was a chore to avoid Coriolanus. So, to avoid any drama with him, you had to find a new apartment. You mother agreed; told you that to make a clean break you needed to leave the area. Move on from the part of town you were raised in; lived in.

You needed to fly on your own wings.

At least your job on the marketing team for Odair Luxury Cruises was safe from him. And that job did come with a sweet perk of allowing employees the opportunity of affordable housing in a select few luxury apartments near the downtown Capitol office building the company was headquartered in.

So at least your apartment hunting wouldn't be too hard.

You were right, your apartment hunt wasn't hard at all. In fact, due to your employment at Odair Luxury Cruises, you were able to secure yourself a 4th floor apartment at the Luxe, right in the bustling downtown of Capitol City, Panem.

Apartment #455 to be exact.

It was a lovely apartment with a courtyard view. It had 9 foot ceilings and white kitchen cabinetry in what could only be a top of the line kitchen. The open layout of the kitchen and living space has a modern feel to it. The lone bedroom in the apartment was very spacious and even had a walk-in closet; the apartment had a small study as well.

It was definitely an upgrade from your mother's apartment, which was nice due to the Plinths fixing it up after buying the building and moving onto the 11th floor roughly 4 years ago. (Unknown to you, Strabo Plinth did the bare minimum repairs to your mother's apartment and furnished it because Coriolanus asked him -more like nagged him- to.)

You're Luxe apartment wasn't as lavish as the Corso penthouse Coriolanus shares with his Grandma’am (the same penthouse he used to bring you to for all of those booty calls over the years) but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that you thought your new apartment was amazing.

And after moving in, you stopped receiving roses at your doorstep. Thank the gods. But since your new building had a doorman, you knew that was the reason you didn't have any more stalkery type floral arrangements waiting for you at your threshold.

And roughly a week or so after moving into your new place, you met your neighbor from across the hall.

#454

It was a typical morning, you had a travel mug of coffee in your hand and was dressed professionally in a pencil skirt and blouse (of course you're wearing those damn kitten heels he who shall not be named- as your older brother’s girlfriend calls your ex-fling of sorts- got you.) as you stepped out into the hallway of your apartment. Usually you never saw your neighbor across the hall, but this morning he rushed out the door- his shaggy bronze hair rustling around his shoulders- and his stunning sea-green eyes locked onto yours.

“Why, you must be new. I've never seen you before.” The tall and extremely handsome man smiles flirtatiously at you. Crossing the hall, to stand in front of you, he introduced himself. “Name’s Odysseus Odair.” Doing a little bow, he smiled a bit too brightly, “The pleasure’s all mine, my abalone pearl.”

Holy shit, is the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises your neighbor and flirting with you right now? No. No, it couldn't be. This has to be a dream.

Except it's not a dream and the heir to a large cruise company in District 4 that's based in the Capitol is really your flirty and handsome neighbor.

“You're Poseidon Odair’s son, heir to Odair Luxury Cruises?” Was all you could manage to get out.

“Yes, that's me, but your name would've worked better for your part of the introduction.” He laughed, the sound similar to the kree-ar call a seagull makes. Shaking his head, causing his bronze hair to skirt around his collared dress shirt (which has a few of the buttons undone to show off his tan and toned chest) he teased, “Usually that's how introductions work, pretty pearl, cause I already know who I am and want to know who you are.”

“I'm Y/N Halvir; I only know who you are because I work in the marketing department for your father's company.”

“Yes, your name sounds familiar.” Odysseus nods with a bright, closed lip smile that makes his cheeks dimple. “You need a ride to the office? I was heading there myself.”

You shook your head, quickly turning down his offer. “Oh, no, I don't want to bother you.”

“Oh, trust me, you won't be a bother.” He said with a flirty glint in his sea-green eyes. “In fact, we’ll go to the corner cafe; get some coffee, donuts, and call it our first date.”

You couldn't help, but giggle at his proposition. He couldn't be serious, could he?

But the way his sunshine like smile was aimed towards you made you realize that he was serious.

Which is why you smiled back and said, “Okay, let's have our first date before work.”

Holding his arm out, like a gentleman, Odysseus winked. “I'll even take you out tonight for seafood.” A sultry look appeared in his eyes as he told you, “I’ll make sure that the dessert's a mouthwatering, delicious one for our second date.”

Odysseus' innuendo didn't go unnoticed by you. And after everything you've been thru with Coriolanus, along with being single for roughly a month now, you decided that it was time to stop pouting over somebody that doesn't give a shit about you.

That it was time to let somebody new have a chance at loving you.

“That sounds like a plan.” You smiled, walking down the hallway arm in arm with the tall bronze man that was sculpted like a Greek god of old. “I'll make sure to wear a nice dress for the occasion.”

“Yes, please do. Even if I'm not one for dressing up, the place I'm taking you to does have a dress code.”

“A dress code similar to Avelina's?” You asked, assuming that whatever fancy seafood place Odysseus was taking you too would be similar in fashion sense to the restaurant Coriolanus took you to every year for your birthday, once you turned 19. (Would've been nice to go there more than once a year, but you figured your ex was just too embarrassed to be seen out in public with you too much since you weren't off the same pedigree as him).

“Ugh, I hate that place. It's so stuffy; reeks of old money.” Odysseus complained as the elevator came into view. Shaking his head, he explained, “Ocean Prime's not a black tie affair dress code, like Avelina's, but more of a nice cocktail dress and button up type of dress code.” Coming to a stop at the elevator bank, he pressed the call button for it and asked, “Do you own the classic little black dress? If so, it'd be perfect for dinner tonight.”

Nodding, you simply told him, “I own one.”

And you only owned one because all of the cocktail dresses you owned were commissioned by Coriolanus- for his cousin Tigris to design and make- and they were all various shades of white, red, and pink. You only had one little black dress because you had bought it yourself, with your own hard earned money, off of a clearance rack. It wasn't anything fancy and you never wore it, since Coriolanus always wanted you to match him if and when he took you somewhere.

So, tonight your little black dress will finally get worn. Worn for your second date with a man who seems warm like sunshine with sea-green eyes that twinkle dreamily.

It's been nearly a month since you left Coriolanus and he's not taking it too well. He never thought that you'd truly leave him. He always just assumed that you'd be there.

He knows now that he took you for granted. It's something that he regrets everyday, whether he admits it or not.

And what gnaws at Coriolanus is how you ignored every single attempt he made to win you back. Blocking his number and moving to a new apartment, in his opinion, was an extreme way to avoid him.

Your bitch of a mother, who smoked more than a chimney and drank more than a fish, refused to give Coriolanus your new number. She also refused to tell him your new address. He literally had to pay off somebody in the HR department of Odair Luxury Cruises to get him your new info. Which turned out to be useless since the doorman at the Luxe apartments was very strict when it came to adhering to the wishes of the residents when it came to who was and wasn't allowed to visit or leave things for them and wouldn't let him pass the door. Even when he flashed a large wad of cash at the man, he still refused to budge.

Ugh, moral people were the boil on Coriolanus' ass.

Coriolanus was tempted to just show up and corner you at work, but he ended up deciding against it. But only because he had political ambitions and didn't want a scene to be caused (one that he feels you would cause) that could be damning to his image.

He was sacrificing so much for his political dreams. Listening to Strabo Plinth and getting engaged to Livia Cardew, to gain more wealth and some political goals. Because if he couldn't become a Senator and, of course, after that the President of Panem then wouldn't his greatest sacrifice- his loss of you, be all for nothing?

One afternoon Coriolanus was neck deep in work, but he found himself staring at a framed picture on his desk. It was a picture of the two of you. One that was taken at the Yule Ball during Senior year at the University. It was his favorite picture of the two of you, which is why he has it framed on his desk.

But before he could get lost in the memory of that night, a knock sounded at his office door. Tearing his gaze off of the picture frame, he looked up to the door and simply said, “Come in.”

“Sir, your fiance's here to see you.” Coriolanus' personal secretary, a middle-aged woman who's hot pink lipstick matched her pixie cut, informed him while walking into the office.

“About what, Marge?” Asked Coriolanus while blinking his eyes- attempting to soothe the pain in them from the hot pink overload he was experiencing.

His corneas couldn't handle looking at his secretary’s hot pink paisley print dress since it made her hair stand out more. He also tried not to stare at his employee too rudely while noticing her fuchsia dyed eyebrows and matching pink mascara- that oddly framed a natural eyelid.

Averting his eyes back to his computer, (*cough* his framed picture of you *cough*) Coriolanus told Marge, “I'm busy; I don't have time to deal with her petty antics today.”

“I know that, Sir. I even told Miss Cardew that you're very busy planning the upcoming games, but she wouldn't hear it. She's demanding that I buzz her in; let her see you.”

“Well, don't.” Coriolanus told his secretary because the last thing he wanted to do was talk to his fiance, Livia Cardew.

Gods, how he hated that woman.

“What do you want me to tell her then, Sir?” Marge asked.

“That I'm in a meeting and can't see her at the moment.”

“Okay, but what kind of meeting?” The secretary asked, knowing full well that the dirty blonde Tasmanian devil of a woman out in the lobby would ream her out if she didn't have any details to give her. Saying in a meeting wouldn't suffice that shrew.

“Tell her I'm networking with somebody about the mass installation of mandatory TVs in the districts.” The cold, callous, platinum blonde man said without skipping a beat.

“I thought you successfully had that meeting yesterday?” The secretary asked in a tone that implied she knew her boss was a cunning piece of shit.

“I did, but she doesn't know that.” Coriolanus smirked.

“No, I suppose she doesn't.” Marge giggled. A giddy look took over the middle aged woman's face as she told her boss, “I saw Miss Halvir last night at Ocean’s Prime. It's a seafood restaurant.”

“What's she doing there? She can't afford it with what she makes working in the marketing department of that District 4 based cruise line.” Coriolanus scoffed. Giving his personal secretary a curious look, he asked, “And what were you doing there? I know you can't afford a place like that either.”

Marge fought hard to keep herself from rolling her fuschia framed eyes at Mr. Snow's offhand remarks about money. What both she and you couldn't afford. With a fake and forced smile, she told the imposing platinum blonde, “I was there because my daughter and her partner just celebrated their one year anniversary; the reason for Miss Halvir being there was that she was out on a date.”

“A DATE?!” Coriolanus asked in a loud roar.

A date. How dare you go out on a date. You're not supposed to be going out on dates. You're supposed to be his.

Despite being separated for nearly a month, you still belong to him. Hell, he took your virginity when you both were green kids at the Academy. As far as he's concerned, he owns your pussy.

“Yes, a date.” The bright pink-haired secretary confirmed before telling her boss, “With Odysseus Odair, the heir of Odair Luxury Cruises.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Coriolanus loudly cursed, his icy blue eyes blazing with white hot anger.

You went out on a date to some high priced seafood (Since when did you eat seafood, other than those oysters rockefeller appetizers he orders for you two when he takes you to Avelina's for your birthday?) restaurant with Odair- the biggest manwhore in all of the Capitol!

What the hell's wrong with you? You accuse him of not loving you, of just wanting you for kinky sexy, but here you are going out on a date with Odysseus Odair. The biggest fuck ‘em and leave ‘em guy in the Capitol. Hell, probably in all of Panem.

Marge was taken aback by her boss's reaction to finding out that you were on a date with Odysseus Odair the previous night. The middle-aged woman's never seen the cold and collective head gamemaker lose control before. And she didn't know how to deal with it.

All she wanted to do was spread some juicy gossip and to maybe tip him off that the Odair heir might be bringing a plus one to his upcoming engagement party; one that he's well acquainted with. Marge certainly wasn't expecting Coriolanus to start flipping his shit.

But what Marge didn't know was that Coriolanus is pea green with envy. That he wants to destroy Odysseus Odair because he's with you.

The woman that he's in love with, even if he won't allow himself to admit his feelings. Because he vowed to never ever fall in love after everything that transpired between him and Lucy Gray that summer he served as a peacekeeper in 12.

But love is something that can't be controlled. And that's something Coriolanus will learn first hand as he does everything in his power to get you back. To win you away from one Odysseus Odair, the bane of his existence.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover

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sweetsweetjellybean · 8 months

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Twelve years after your best friend Eddie Munson left you heartbroken with nothing but a mixtape as his only goodbye, he walks back into your life, looking for a second chance.

With a wedding to Steve Harrington on the horizon and a career that's everything you've ever wanted, you're on the cusp of the perfect happily ever after. But pressing play on the past could unravel everything, especially when it leads to a kiss that should never have happened.

Amidst a soundtrack that spans the highs and lows of love and loss, you're faced with your deepest fear—not just the secrets you've kept hidden but the silence of ending up alone.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Steve Harrington X Fem!Reader

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago, with flashbacks at the beginning of each chapter. Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Eventual smut. Cheating. Mentions of past DV. Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

For updates follow @tornupdates & turn on notifications.

Song 1. Scar Tissue WC: 5162

Song 2. Sour Girl WC: 6558

Song 3. Disarm WC: 8554

Song 4. Fake Plastic Trees WC: 12399

Song 4. Remix Version WC: 11646

Song 5. Clumsy WC: 12261

Song 6. TBA

Song 7. TBA

Song 8. TBA

Song 9. TBA

Song 10. TBA

Song 11. TBA

Blurbs

Snowy Morning

Eddie & Chris

Articles Playlists & More

Spotify Playlist

4 Questions with Eddie Munson

4 Questions with Steve Harrington

4 Questions with Argyle

Locations Board 1

#steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #love triangle #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #Torn #jelly's masterlists

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yandere-writer-momo · 6 months

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Yandere Short Stories: Love Me More

Yandere Supervillian x Afab Reader x Ex Superhero

In honor of spooky month, you’re all getting some of my old original thriller works. Enjoy

8.4 k words

Buy Me a Coffee, Please?

Crescent shaped wounds formed on the palms of soft (skin color) hands while (eye color) eyes stared holes into the tv and the daily broadcast. Blood dripping from the young woman’s lips from the force of her biting them.

“Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!” A reporter stated while showing videos of the blonde haired hero kissing a pink haired woman. The two did look good together but there was only one problem. Hydro, no… Reign, was (your name)’s boyfriend.

Reign had always told her not to use the tv remote but she was just so bored in the house. Ever since powers had started appearing seven years ago from a mysterious storm, Reign had been keeping her locked up in their shared house. The blonde had insisted it was for her utmost safety, but now (your name) felt like it was all just a rouse to keep her in the dark on his affair.

A scream left (your name)’s throat as she began pressing all the tv buttons in frustration before throwing the tv remote away from the couch. A small thud echoing in the room while the tv screen turned black.

The young woman began to shake as she tried to conceal her sobs while she patiently waited for her boyfriend to come home. Her form shaking as she gazed numbly at the blood dripping from her hands.

She had waited an entire week for him to return from his latest mission. She had been worried sick about him since he hadn’t answered her calls or texts asking how he is or what he was doing. And now (your name) knew why. The true reason in why Reign never replied… was because he had another woman in his life.

Seven years down the drain. She has always wondered why he hadn’t taken her on dates in the last two years since he had risen to stardom. Why he wasn’t as affectionate before or as talkative. Why he never held her or told her he loved her as much anymore.

Perhaps some part of herself had deluded her into believing it was just a phase. Never in her life would she have thought she would be the phase. This was no Superman and Louis Lane love story. This was real life.

Reign would never want to be associated with a girl who had a low grade power like hers. What good was a healing power if she couldn’t even heal a partner who was never injured anymore?

(Your name) and him would never get married or have the happy ending she had always hoped to have since her rough childhood. It would only be Reign and Terra’s. The perfect super couple that took the nation by storm.

(Your name) sighed, a few tears falling down her face. She had thought his sudden avoidance of her was due to the high stress of his work. So she had given him space to organize his thoughts and feelings. The young woman had tried so hard to comfort him with his favorite foods, writing him notes everyday, and making sure their home was always clean. And for what? For him to cheat on her and lie about it? Did he even deserve a good bye?

(Your name) thought for a moment before releasing a sad sigh. Reign truly didn’t deserve anymore than she could possibly offer him. He didn’t deserve a good bye. Especially not when he was the one who left first.

(Your name) knew what she needed to do. It was time to let go before she became even more of a mess. But first, she should clean up her hands and lips.

The young woman walked to the bathroom and began rinsing her hands, the hot water stinging the self inflicted wounds lightly. Dull (eye color) orbs staring at her reflection as she released a sigh. She practically looked like a corpse with the bags under her eyes. When was the last time she smiled anyways? Has it truly been a year since she truly felt anything?

A light green glow left her hands as she healed her broken skin. It was the least she could do so no one thought she was insane when she walked out of this house with a duffle bag.

(Your name) shut off the water before heading into her separate room to pack her things. The couple hadn’t slept together in months and it really took a toll on her. It was pathetic just how far she had let herself wallow in self loathing and pity.

(Eye color) eyes frowned at the photo of a blonde male smiling as he held her younger self. A (skin color) hand reaching out and placing the picture face down. Her hands quickly facing all the photos of them face down so she didn’t have to see his face while she packed. She didn’t want to be reminded of the love they once shared.

Such a shame the fame had gotten to him. Reign was her first love, her first for so many things. But it was time to put him away, just like he did to her.

(Your name) smiled sadly before packing up what few belongings she had, making sure to leave whatever Reign had gotten her behind. She didn’t want any reminders of him and his broken promises any longer.

“Good bye, Reign.” (Your name) whispered as she left the empty house. “I wish you happiness.”

Bars were never really her scene and yet here she was lightly sipping on some Scotch. The bitter alcohol stinging her throat while her eyes scanned the crowd.

The scent of sweat and liquor causing her nose to crinkle in disgust. Just what I’m earth was she thinking coming to a place like this?

This was the nearest bar to the cheap hotel she was staying at for the time being before she found a job to make enough money to move to another city.

A sigh escaping her throat. Her mind was still in shambles and a complete mess. Even this small glass of liquor couldn’t satisfy the lonely ache in her chest.

The young woman raised her hand up to attract the bar tender. “I’d like to close my tab please.”

The walk to the hotel wasn’t too bad. Just pass by a few alleyways and she’d be right there in her tiny room. Hopefully there weren’t any roaches in her bed…

A sudden groan reached her ears, causing the young woman to freeze in place. (Your name) turning her head left towards the alleyway in fright. The young woman trembling as her mind began to race.

She was going to be stabbed wasn’t she? Young women always got abducted or stabbed… or raped at night. And what could she do to defend herself?! She didn’t even have a taser-

“Please…” a deep voice barely whispered while another groan left the alleyway. “Please help me…”

The young woman began to pace as she tried to sort her thoughts. Her mind was telling her no but her heart clenched at the thought of someone truly needing help.

“Screw it.” (Your name) slowly made her was into the alleyway, her (eye color) eyes nervously scanning the alleyways.

“Hello?” (Eye color) orbs widened as she stared at the male before her in shock. Deep gashed covering his body while ragged breaths left the male’s throat. The young woman quickly rushing over as she began trying to talk to the young man. “Oh lord, you need a hospital-“

The male reached a hand out, blood now staining the white sleeves of her coat. Red eyes meeting (eye color) orbs for the first time.

“N-no hospital…” the male rasped while his eyes gazed at here in desperation. “P-please… put me out of my misery-“

“I-I can heal you!” The young woman quickly leaned forward while a green glow surrounded her hands while she tried to heal as many of his wounds as she could. “Please don’t die-“

“It’s okay… I don’t have anything to live for.” There was so much blood. Whatever or whoever had wounded him, had truly wanted him dead.

Tears began to gather in her eyes while she tried to desperately heal the large gashes on the man before her. Just why did her powers have to be so weak?

“Please, whatever may be out there… I just want to save this one person. Please…” tears fell down her face as the male began to slump over ever so slightly. “I just want to save someone so I can have purpose again.”

The male’s eyes widened as the green glow began to become brighter while his wounds quickly began closing. A warmth filling his body and soul while she worked her magic. The young woman beginning to slump as a wave of exhaustion hit her.

“Hey-“ the male quickly caught her before she fell on the pavement. His heart drumming in his chest as he realized she had passed out.

Healing abilities were so incredibly rare this day and age. They were usually killed off so they wouldn’t interfere with the hospitals since they could heal for free… so just how on earth did she come to find him? Wait a moment…

The dark haired male smiled softly as he studied her pretty face, his face lighting up in recognition. It was (your name)… She was still so pretty and small… would she be willing to be his new purpose now that she was all alone?

Did she still remember him from high school? She had always been such a sweet girl, such a shame she chose Reign Huston over him. He could’ve give her the world… but now he could! He truly could give her the world… or at least what would be left of it when he was done with it.

It must be fate that had brought them together! The string of fate must be tied tightly to their fingers, uniting them in a time of hardship once again.

The male slowly rose up. The dark haired man carry her out of the alleyway with a smile on his face.

“You’ll be my reason to live again and I’ll be yours.” The male waved his right hand, a Violet portal appearing before the two. “My true reason on why I want to burn this world to the ground. Nothing will ever hurt you or I ever again.”

The poor girl has no idea that the man she just saved was a monster… a monster she had once unknowingly escaped from in the past…

Reign finally arrived home after not receiving any texts or calls from (your name). Which was strange for her since she always clung to him whenever he left for long periods of time.

Maybe she realized what he had to do in order to crawl up the ranks of superheroes. Reign couldn’t afford for the public to know of their relationship. It was dangerous to be with someone who couldn’t protect themselves.

It would be nerve racking to be seen with a girl who had no name or strong ability to protect herself since he was such a well known hero now. Reign was just lucky Terra was in the same boat as him. With the pink haired woman by his side on the media, he’d be able to have the perfect looking life. A life where (your name) would never be endangered or discovered.

Reign had felt terrible distancing himself from her but he had felt so guilty for pretending to be with someone else. It was what his agency wanted for more media coverage. Yet he knew this was all for the best if he wanted enough money to move the two of them far from anyone and everything.

“I’m home-“ silence greeted Reign when he walked into the empty house. His brow furrowing in confusion at the eerie silence. “Hello?”

The blonde male began to walk around the house, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. Where was she? (Your name) always greeted him when he came home.

“(Your name)?” Reign reached her bedroom door, the male reaching a hand up to knock on the smooth, white wood. “I’m home-“

The door creaked open before he could even knock, the male’s blue eyes widening at the sight of a bare room with all of the pictures placed down. The room looked as if it was ransacked in a hurry.

“(Your name)?!” Reign quickly entered the room as his blue eyes began to scan for any sign of his girlfriend. “(Your name)?!”

Reign then began to run room to room as he called out for her.

“(Your name)?! Please answer me!” Reign began to dash to the living room as tears began to gather in his eyes. She couldn’t have left right? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was out there?

The male took a step near the tv, his foot landing on top of the remote, causing the tv screen to light up. A loop of the broadcast from the other day beginning to talk.

‘Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!’

Reign’s eyes widened in shock as he felt his chest tighten. He had forgotten to hide the remote… she wasn’t supposed to know.

Reign choked back a sob as he realized what he had done. Oh god… she left him.

Reign began to freak out. (Your name) had a healing power and that was considered illegal since the hospitals didn’t want any competition. What if she was killed or kidnapped for her powers?

Reign took a deep breath before trying to calm himself. He was going to have to find her and explain everything.

Maybe he’d have to use some of his old skills back when he first had gotten (your name) into his arms… it shouldn’t be hard to hack into the city’s traffic cameras. One of them had to have had caught something of her. He was sure of it.

“Don’t worry, (your name). I’ll find you.”

Light trickled down from a window. It’s bright rays shining on (your name)’s face, the young woman groaning as she began to stir awake. Her brows furrowing at the unfamiliar room she resided in. Where in earth was she?

(Eye color) orbs examined the modern gothic room. The young woman turning her head around to see that the king sized bed was in the center of the room behind the giant windows of a balcony. Green foliage of exotic plants hanging from the ceilings, the giants leaves covering some of the light from the full moon. Long black and red candles sat on shelves on the black walls, illuminating the room in a comforting manner.

“Are you awake?” A deep voice asked, the young woman turning to gaze at the door frame. A tall male with long black hair stood in the doorframe. His red eyes staring at her in adoration. “You’ve been out like a light for almost two days now.”

The male stalked forward slowly like a predator. His red eyes never leaving (your name)’s. A small smile slowly crawling on his plump lips while his eyes became half lidded. The male bending down to sit beside her in the bed.

“You saved my life.” The male then gently grasped her hand in his much larger one, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My name is Dante Hawkthorne. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

(Your name) blinked a few times in disbelief. The man she had saved was one of the most influential businessmen of the century. Just what on earth was he doing in an alleyway? Could he have been jumped? Or maybe he was doing something sleazy?

(Your name) shook her head to clear her thoughts. It’s not like it was her place to judge him since she was also on the sleazier part of town.

“My name is (your full name).” The young woman gave him a soft smile, causing Dante’s cheeks to blush.

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” the young man then slowly pulled away from her as he stood up to his full height. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”

(Your name) raised a brow at the arm he offered for her to grab. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in his offer would it?

“That sounds lovely, Dante.” The male’s breath hitched for a moment before he quickly composed himself.

“How does (favorite meal) sound?” The two began making their way towards the dining hall. Each one exchanging small talk.

Turns out Dante was only three years her senior and he owned a lot of morgues and graveyards in the city. She would’ve never thought he’d be the type involved with the dead so it was pretty interesting to see and hear about.

Yet she couldn’t help but have a deep gut feeling that there was something off about him.

Perhaps it was the way his eyes lingered on her a little too much for comfort or the way he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His large hands constantly rubbing against hers as they made their way towards the dining hall in the long hallways.

“Are you alright, Dante?” The male simply gave her a soft smile as he stared at her lips intently.

“Yes. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me back there. Perhaps it has made me enamored with you.”

“Pardon?”

“How do I put this?” Dante tapped a pale finger to his light pink lips before giving her a flirtatious smirk. “You enthrall me.”

(Your name) blinked a few times at the oddly flirtatious male before giving him a nervous smile. She had never been the type of girl who had gotten the attention of men like this before. What on earth was she supposed to do?

“Um… I’m flattered?” A deep chuckle broke her from her nervous thoughts.

“You’re quite cute, miss (your name).” The young woman could only chuckle nervously while she turned her head towards the ground. Hopefully he would let her leave soon after this meal. She really needed to get out of this city as soon as possible.

“Um… thank you.” The young woman perked up at the sight of the long table in the center of the grand, gothic dining hall. “Oh wow. Your home is so lovely.”

(Eye color) orbs gazed intently at the various portraits on the walls. A shiver rolling down her spine when her eyes met one of a young woman that looked eerily similar to herself. And did that painting just blink?

(Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes at the sudden creak the chair made while Dante pulled it out of place. The brunette giving her a soft smile, as if to reassure her that he only had benevolent intentions towards her.

“Thank you, Dante.” (Your name) gently took a seat. Dante quickly sliding her into her spot before taking a seat beside her.

A group of masked butlers quickly scurried into the room with various bottles of expensive looking liquor in their black gloved hands. Which seemed odd to the young woman that she couldn’t see their face or hands.

“Would you care for some wine? I have all kinds of flavors and colors. Whatever you may like.” Dante smiled, gesturing his hand to all of the bottles the butlers held.

“Oh… I would like some (favorite wine).”

“Excellent choice, my dear.” Dante then snapped his fingers, one of the butlers gracefully walking forward. The red number one reflecting off the black wooden mask on his face. His feet moving in an uncomfortably stiff way that was almost unnatural. It was if the butler was a doll.

With perfect poise, the butler’s posture never grew slack as he poured the (wine color) wine into the glass in front of her. The butler than quickly snapped to attention once the wine was poured, giving the two a low bow.

“Thank you, Henry.” The butler then made his way back to the other line of butlers while another stepped forward to pour a deep red wine into Dante’s cup, the dark haired male giving her a smile. The red number seven was on this butlers head, but that wasn’t what made the hair stand up on the back of (your name)’s neck. It was the fact that she couldn’t see the butler’s eyes, almost as if he didn’t have any.

“(Your name). Are you ready for the meal?” Dante asked the young woman, snapping her from her musings. The young woman giving Dante a nervous smile.

“That sounds lovely.” Dante snapped his fingers. The butlers stepping back to make room for the black masked cooks to make their way towards the couple. The numbers one, two, and three on their masks this time. Yet unlike the butlers, the numbers on their foreheads were a dull yellow rather than a deep red.

The tallest one, three, pushed a golden cart that had two golden covers atop of the golden plates. The shortest one, number one, then perfectly placed the meals in front of the two. Just as stiffly as the butler who had poured their wine into their drinks.

“Thank you.” (Your name) told the butler, who didn’t respond, causing Dante to narrow his eyes.

“She told you thank you, Ayden.” Dante hissed, the cook hurriedly giving the young woman a bow. A smile now in place on Dante’s lips. “Thank you, Ayden.”

The cook with the number two then stepped forward to hand (your name) and Dante a glass of water. The three cooks giving them a curt bow before pushing their golden cart away and back to the kitchen.

(Your name) pulled the lid off, her eye brows furrowing at what lord under the cover… this was (favorite food)… how did Dante know her favorite meal?

“What’s the matter, (your name)? Is the food not to your liking?” Dante asked with furrows brows, the male clenching his fists tightly. “I can ask the cooks to remake it. Is it not (hot/ cold) enough?”

“Oh it’s not that, Dante.” (Your name) gave the dark haired male a reassuring smile, causing him to unclench his fist. “This is my favorite food… it was just interesting on how this is what they served me is all.”

“Oh!” Dante removed the lid on his food to reveal the same meal. “It’s my favorite food as well!”

(Your name) sighed in relief as she took a bite from the meal. This was probably the best she’s ever had of it. “This is delicious, Dante.”

“I only have the best in my home.” Dante smiled, the male then grabbing his glass as he raised it. “A toast to you, my savior.”

(Your name) nervously raised the glass before clinking it with Dante’s. The two taking a swig. The taste was a little off, which may be due to how expensive it looked. But other than that, the wine was excellent.

“Is the wine also to you liking?”

“It’s very good.” Dante smiled as he intently watched (your name) eat her food.

A sudden wave of tiredness swept over the young woman, which was odd.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” Dante asked, his brows furrowing in worry as he rose from his seat.

“Oh I am just a little tired is all.” (Your name) gave Dante a reassuring smile. “It feels terribly rude to be so tired when I’m sharing a meal with you.”

“Nonsense. You can spend the night here.” Dante smiled, causing (your name) to grow goosebumps at the strange look in his eyes. (Your name) raised her hands up while she tried to think of an excuse to leave. Something felt off.

“Oh but I don’t want to be a burden-“ Dante’s hands clasped her.

“Oh what nonsense. You saved my life!” Dante flashed (your name) a charming smile, the young man then rose up from his seat. Dante held out a large, pale hand to her. “I can escort you to your room if you are not comfortable walking alone. Tomorrow I can also arrange a maid or two to prepare a bath for you until you feel better.”

(Your name) hesitantly took Dante’s hand, the young man helping her up from her chair. His red eyes never leaving her form.

Dante snapped his fingers, nodding his head at cook one and two to gather up the plates.

“Perhaps tomorrow, in the morning we could have a nice breakfast in the garden?” Dante smiled, which caused (your name) to nervously giggle. “It’d be like a date-“

“Oh I just got out of a relationship so I’m not sure if I feel comfortable going so fast yet-“ (your name) shivered at the twisted smile that flashed on Dante’s lips for the briefest of moments.

“I’m a patient man, (your name). I can wait.” Dante led her towards her room, his eyes carefully observing her to make sure she didn’t pass out too early. Soon she would be completely in his grasp and assimilated in her new role.

Pale fingers traced circles on (your name)’s smooth skin, the fingers slowly working their way up to her (hair type) locks.

“You’re still so beautiful even after all these years.” Dante smiled dreamily before grasping small section of her hair and brining it to his lips. Dante pressed his soft lips to the hair before taking in a deep inhale of her scent. The male moaning in ecstasy.

How many years has it been since he’s last touched her? Seven? Eight?

The male shivered to himself when (your name) released a soft breath while she slept. Her lips looked so soft… it would be okay if he snuck just a small kiss on her, right?

Dante gulped while his palms began to sweat profusely in anticipation. His teenage self had always dreamed of touching her. Of being with her… of being inside of her.

Dante wanted to be inside her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to be the thought, no, the being that never left her mind. The one she would call out for at night as he pleasured her night after night, day after day. He wanted her to be all of his just like he was always all of hers.

Dante slowly swung his body on top of hers. His form straddling hers while his body looked over hers. His red eyes almost glowing in the dark like a predator of the night.

Dante interlaced his fingers with her hands as he held her hands above her head. His long black locks hanging over his face, the locks tickling her skin.

“I have always loved you… it’s meant to be, (your name)…” Dante then leaned forward, his warm breath fanning her face. His eyes becoming heavy lidded with lust. “You were always so sweet to me… it was so hard to live without you for all these years…”

“But it’s worth all the pain and suffering I had to go through now that we’ve crossed paths again…” Dante released a soft chuckle before leaning his face just an inch from hers. “I wonder if you’ll ever know who I am unless I show you a picture from the past… I wouldn’t mind either way because the face you have now is custom made just for you.”

Dante’s lips then gently pressed against hers. His breathing becoming erratic when he immediately pulled away. His eyes now completely consumed with lust, his hips slowly grinding into hers. A low moan escaping his lips, the male biting them to prevent anymore sounds from leaving him.

“The doctor said the drugs were pretty strong so I could kiss and touch you more… I could kiss and touch you all over.” Dante then pressed his lips to her lips again and again. The young man moving his lips all over her face and shoulder in a sort of worshipping manner. “You’re mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“So won’t you love me more than him now?”

Dante glanced at the clock before sighing at the time. It was almost midnight now. He should probably let her get some rest.

Red eyes took a longing look at her pretty hairs, his eyes flashing with desire yet again.

“I’ll just take a small amount of hair… you won’t even notice.” Dante pulled a knife from his pocket with a smile on his face. “I’ll add it to my collection.”

“Welcome home, (your name).”

“Shit!” Reign hissed as he slammed his fist into the wall of the seedy motel. (Your name) hasn’t returned to her motel room in a few days now. Could something have happened to her?

Reign placed his head in his hands as he sighed in aggravation. It was highly unlikely anyone would have her. If anyone… no, no. It couldn’t possibly be that weirdo from high school… what was his name again?

Dante Noxwell. He was always hovering around wherever (your name) was when they were in school, picking up items she dropped like some sort of pigeon hungry for scraps. He was never a very good looking fellow either with his hunched over back and scarred face.

Yet that never stopped (your name) from being kind to the freak. She always sent a smile his way or laughed at his stupid jokes… Reign knew Dante coveted her. Reign always watched Dante’s red eyes stare at (your name) longingly, almost as if he thought he was worthy of her.

It disgusted Reign to no end. Dante’s eyes, Dante’s smiles, and most of all, his audacity to even breathe the same air as (your name), pissed him off to no end.

No one deserved to be around her, no one but him. Nobody could protect (your name) as well as Reign did. It was Reign’s own fault for being careless and leaving the tv remote in a place she could find it. She just didn’t understand the lengths he had to go through to protect her.

Once he found her though, he would be sure to lock her up even better this time. He had gotten too comfortable with time but he’d have to improve where he failed.

Reign swore to himself he’d never fail (your name) ever again. She would never, ever escape from him again. Never.

Reign stormed out of the room, his head deep in his thoughts. Perhaps he could try Dante’s address… it wouldn’t hurt to try would it?

Reign placed his hand in his pockets. Completely unaware of the security camera focused on him…

(Your name) groaned, the dancing dreams flickering away when her eyes fluttered opened to see the bright sun light that lit up the room. Had she truly passed out?

(Your name) glanced around the room in confusion. How I’m earth did she get back to her room and what was going on?

“Hello-“

The bedroom door creaked open revealing a tall feminine figure. The maid wore a white mask with the number seven on it in pink, entered the room with perfect posture. The door loudly shutting behind her.

The maid gave (your name) a curtsy before grabbing an outfit from the closet beside the bed. Her white gloves were completely spotless and she had such a strange scent to her…

“Oh, you don’t have to-“ (your name)’s eyes widened at all the clothes that were in her size. How on earth did they have her size? “How do you have my size-“

The maid gently handed (your name) the clothes, the young woman grabbing her hand in haste.

“Wait-“ the maid pulled her arm away, the glove slipping off her hand a bit to reveal greenish tinted skin. Alarm bells ringing in (your name)’s head at the sight. “What-“

The maid quickly pulled up her glove before bowing. The maid quickly exited the room, (your name)’s mouth hanging open in surprise.

What on earth was wrong with the maid’s skin?

“Are you decent yet, (your name)?” Dante’s low voice from the other side of the door requested politely. “I’ll escort you to breakfast on the patio personally.”

“Not yet!” (Your name) bit at her nails. The young woman didn’t really want to stay at Dante’s home any longer. Something felt completely off about the place and she did not want to spend a minute longer in here.

(Your name) nervously fidgeted with her hands. She was going to have to sneak out at night in order to get away from him. And hopefully everyone would be asleep by then.

Dante frowned at (your name). He could tell what the young woman was thinking and he didn’t like it one bit. Looks like he’d have to teach her a lesson earlier than expected.

For now, he’s play along. He would treat her like a princess and make sure not to slip up in front of her.

A soft jingle came from Dante's phone, the male quickly looking at the device in annoyance. Yet his expression quickly changed to joy at what he saw.

“Oh what is it, Dante?” (Your name) asked, a fake smile on her pretty lips.

“Oh nothing too crazy…” Dante gave (your name) a bright jovial smile. “Just found out I finally caught the rat in my trap is all. That vermin has been plaguing me for quite some time.”

(Your name) nodded, completely oblivious to what Dante had truly meant. But that was okay. Dante didn’t think she’d like that he had referred to Reign as a rat.

Yet she didn’t know that Dante had purposely put out the wrong address for people to find him at if they looked hard enough. It was always funny to see his enemies in the graveyard they would soon be buried in.

Dante cleared his throat before gleaming at the woman beside him. She had no idea how elated he truly was with this news. One more body to join his collection.

Dante smiled at all of the security footage on his computer screen. His face twisting into a grin as he spotted Reign entering the hotel where (your name) was last seen.

How silly of Reign to not think that Dante would finally have the upper hand this time.

A deep chuckle left Dante’s throat, his eyes turning to the other monitor to see all the angles of (your name)’s bedroom. A dreamy sigh leaving his throat.

“Soon you’ll be all mine. And this time with no interruptions.” Dante leaned his cheek against the screen that showed (your name) sleeping in her bed. The dark haired man gently kissing the screen before releasing a dreamy sigh. “It’ll all go the way it was supposed to the first time.”

(Your name) wandered around the halls, being sure to duck into the corners to avoid being spotted by the workers of the estate.

She had to get out of here as quickly as she could. It just didn’t feel safe anymore. It has already been almost two weeks since she had been trapped in this estate.

Anything was better than being trapped like a bird in a cage again.

(Eye color) eyes peered around the corners to make sure no one would spot her before she crossed over to the other hall. So far, no luck in finding an exit.

Tap. Tap. Tap. (Your name) paused in her steps, her eyes widening at the sight of a masked worker with a blue number, eighteen, on their forehead that strolled adjacent to the hall she was on. The young woman gulping at the rifle strapped to their back. Why on earth would a worker need a rifle?

(Eye color) orbs quickly scanned for a place to hid. A black door sat to her right.

As quiet as a mouse, the young woman tiptoed to the door. Her body shaking in fear of being discovered by the worker.

(Skin color) hands shook as she turned the handle. The woman rushed into the door, the door softly clicking shut behind her. A sigh of relief leaving her throat.

(Your name) turned around and leaned her back against the door. Her (eye color) orbs widening at shock in what the room held.

The room stretched in a barely illuminated hall. A large portrait covered with a red drape sat on the end of the hall as well as a light switch. Each side of the wall appeared to be lined with a pattern of mirrors and portraits of some sort.

What on earth could that possibly be? What were truly on those walls?

Before (your name) could stop herself, her feet wandered forwards towards the covered up portrait. As if she were a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet.

She needed to know what was behind that drape. Perhaps it was the truth of this entire situation. Her limbs continued to move on their own. Her hands reaching out to lightly touch the drape that held the portrait.

With a sharp tug, the drape fell to the ground, all the lights turning on in the room to reveal the entire hall. The grotesque face of a boy from her past staring back at her. The scarred up face of her schoolmate stared back at her with his dull red eyes.

“Oh my god…” (your name) took a step back before falling onto her bottom. It all made sense now on why she felt so uncomfortable.

(Your name) then turned to gaze down the lit up hall. Bile riding in her throat at the various portraits of Dante’s face and body changing over the years. Yet it was one that stuck out to her the most…

It was the small picture of Reign that sat in the corner of each portrait. Was Dante trying to be Reign?

(Your name) quickly rose up to her feet. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe here. No… it was never safe here.

(Your name) quickly dashed down the hall, only to see one of the guards standing in front of the doorway. A rotting stench coming from him.

“Please move-“ the guard pushed his mask aside to reveal the green skin of a walking corpse. His eyes, nose, and tongue completely missing.

(Your name) screamed loudly as the guard came charging at her. An inhuman snarl leaving the guard’s throat.

But a swift kick came to the guard’s side. Dante standing over the guard with a disgusted look on his face.

“What a useless puppet you are.” Dante then held out his hand, the corpse instantly turning to dust. “He didn’t scare you too much, did he darling?”

(Your name) froze at the familiar nickname. Her whole body convulsing into shivers.

“I’m glad you know who I am now!” Dante smiled brightly as if he hadn’t just turned a corpse to dust a second ago. “We can finally continue where we left off!”

“What are you talking about?” (Your name) whimpered, Dante chuckling. His red eyes shining brightly.

“Well the answer to the letter I sent you all those years ago, darling!” Dante exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Unless you didn’t get to read it before that bastard ripped it out of your hands.”

Oh (your name) knew exactly what Dante was talking about. He had written her many, many creepy love letters those years. The dead body of the kitten she used to feed was still fresh into her memory. Dante had claimed he saw Reign had poisoned the kitten due to jealousy and wanted her to give it a proper burial. Yet (your name) didn’t think her ex would do such a horrible thing… right?

But the one he had personally delivered to her was the most simple of all. Dante had asked her to be his girlfriend on his knees in front of the entire school and Reign tore up the confession letter. The blonde then kicking Dante across the head repeatedly.

“I don’t know if I can give you an answer-“

“Darling. Baby! You’ve had seven years to think!” Dante’s expression changed to match his frustration with (your name)’s difficulty. “And I had seven years to adjust my appearance to your tastes. Do you know how busy I was over these years? How many diet plans and how much exercise I pushed myself through just to become the perfect man for you?”

Dante ripped the front of his shirt to show her his chisels physique. “This body was made specifically for you! I know you’ve always liked the pretty type-“

“I-I am flattered, but we just met again-“

“I’m sure you could love me now that I don’t look like what I used to.” Dante interrupted, his large hands holding hers tightly. “I had a hard time finding these parts to use over the years but I only got the best! Just for you! I almost gave up when I couldn’t find you again. My puppets weren’t efficient enough, I guess.“

(Your name) furrowed her brows at his words, a shiver rolling down her line. What did he mean?

“What-“

“Oh you didn’t know did you?” Dante chuckles before holding out his hand, a large number of workers walking up to the door. “My ability is that I can control the dead.”

(Your name) shuddered as she watched the workers removed their masks to reveal the green skinned monsters she had seen a little while ago. So everyone here was undead?

“See? I think I can keep you safe better than Reign can! He locked you away so well for all these years. I couldn’t find you like I used to be able to!” (Your name) felt as if she went numb. Could Reign have been insane as well? Did her ex truly lock her away from the world.

“Don’t worry! I can do everything he can do but better!” Dante exclaimed with a bright smile. “I just love you so much!”

“Dante-“ Dante’s hands quickly grasped hers. His red eyes staring intently into hers.

“You saved me just like you always used to. Its destiny. Can’t you see?” Dante then pressed his lips to her forehead, his body shivering at the contact. “I can love you so much more than Reign can and I make so much more money than him. I could provide for you-“

“Dante, it’s okay-“

Dante suddenly pressed his lips against (your name)’s, his soft lips turning into a smile at the contact. The male slowly pulling away.

“I could give you so much more than he can.” Dante then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap. His manhood slowly grinding into hers. “I could… I could please you… whatever you want. I’ll do-“

“But I want to leave-“ Dante pulled (your name) in for another kiss. His tongue forcefully entering her mouth hole his hands began to grab every bit of flesh he could on her body. A strong of saliva connecting the two when he pulled away again.

“You can’t. You can’t ever leave me again.” Dante buried his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll go insane. I won’t be able to live again without you. Please just stay, just stay with me. I’ll make you happy.”

“Dante I’d be happier outside-“ a sharp prick interrupted (your name)’s words. Her eyes widening at Dante’s twisted smile.

“No. You can’t leave again…no. I won’t let you.” (Your name) could feel her body going limp, Dante quickly pulling her into his arms.

“I promise to love you more than he ever could. I promise you. I’ll keep you safe.”

(Your name) felt her vision going dark, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. Fear consuming her entire being at the last words she heard from Dante before going into a dreamless sleep.

“He’ll be taken care of shortly. No more interruptions this time.”

What on earth could he possibly mean by that?

Reign stood in front of a grave yard in confusion. This couldn’t possibly be Dante’s address could it?

Reign strolled forward. His brows furrowing in thought, unaware of the many eyes that followed his every movement.

Reign sighed before walking up to the mausoleum in annoyance. Something felt off to him. Almost as if he was missing something.

Reign froze when he heard a crunch behind him. The blonde quickly spun around to come face to face with a dark haired man.

“Who are you?” Reign asked, his brows furrowed in confusion and fear. Why was a man in the middle of a graveyard?

“You know who I am very well, Reign.” The male chuckled before slowly walking towards Reign. A twisted smile on his lips. “You used to make my life a living hell everyday after all.”

“No… you can’t possibly be…” Reign couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way the man in front of him was Dante. He was far too beautiful to be the hunched back boy he used to bully. “Dante?”

“In the flesh, or at least what is left. I sort of killed that old Dante off years ago.” Dante chuckled, his red eyes meeting Reign’s shocked blue ones. “That boy was far too weak and too helpless to stop you back then. But now… ever since I got my powers. I can easily stop you.”

Reign held out a hand to blast water at Dante, only for arms to shoot out from the ground and grab his arms and feet. Reign screamed at the sight of all the undead monsters below him. The blonde thrashing to escape but to no avail.

“Why don’t we chat for a bit, Reign? We have lots of catching up to do after all.” Dante smiled before a chair made of bones rose up from the ground for him to sit on. “You are supposedly supposed to defeat me after all. Nox is a good villain name, don’t you think?”

“You’re sick. How could you kill so many people-“ a twisted laugh interrupted Reign. Reign’s eyes widening in fear at the feral look on Dante’s face.

“I’m sick? Then what are you? A saint?” Dante stood from his chair, the tall male grabbing Reign’s jaw to stare him directly in the eye. “You killed too for her you know. And hurt. And bullied. I was merely searching for her is all. I even tried to find her in other people but to no avail…”

Dante let go of Reign’s chin to reach into his coat pocket. His pale hand holding out a strand of (hair color) hair in front of the blonde. Reign’s breath hitching in fear and anger.

“What did you do to her… what did you do to her?!”

Dante laughed as he began to taunt the blonde with the locks of hair. “Oh nothing yet. I’m merely trying to have her warm her heart up to me. The Stockholm syndrome merely hasn’t set in yet. But she’ll be set for life if she gives into it.”

Dante placed a hand to his cheek as he let out a lovesick sigh. “She’ll be such a beautiful bride. I did so much work trying to make everything perfect for her… the perfect looking husband, the perfect home, and… a lot of money. I could provide for her and maybe even a small family if she’d allow me the pleasure!” Dante gave Reign a mischievous smirk. “Something you could’ve easily have had if you hadn’t slipped up. Thank you for that by the way. Her and I have been reunited at last… I promise to take good care of her-“

A glob of spit hit Dante’s cheek, causing Dante to sigh in annoyance. Dante wiped the spit off his cheek in distaste before glaring at Reign.

“Tch. Seven years and you still haven’t learned proper manners. A shame.”

“Go to hell.” Reign snarled, his blue eyes glowering at Dante in hatred.

“I’ll see you there in a few years then.”

“I’m going to save her from you!” Reign snarled, the blonde thrashing in the undead’s cold grasp. “I will get her back-“

Dante gave Reign a sadistic smile, causing the blonde to freeze up.

“Sorry. I don’t plan on giving you the same luxury you gave me all this years ago when you beat me to a pulp in front of the entire school.” Dante began to shush the blonde’s tears in a teasing manner. “Shhhh. You’ll be among the dead soon. And I will be the only victor from this.”

“But… heroes always-“

“Oh but who ever said you were a hero?” Dante teased. “Heroes would never do the things you do. You could’ve moved on like a normal person but just like a rat, you’re always digging into places you shouldn’t be. A pity.”

Dante snapped his fingers, a large army of the undead crawling out from their graves like grotesque puppets.

“Kill him.” Dante then walked away, the sound of Reign’s screams filling the graveyard. A sound that came to a sudden halt, almost as if it had never even happened.

“What a shame. I was really hoping for something more… climatic to our reunion.” Dante muttered to himself before turning back. “But I do truly think she’d come to love me more.”

Dante snapped his finger, a reanimated Reign crawling towards him. A sinister smile crawling on his lips. “Don’t you think I’m more suited for (your name), Reign?”

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lunalucas-world · 3 months

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Say hi to your sweet little princess 🥰🤭

#mtf trans #trans nsft #trans pride #transfem #trans woman #transgirl #transgender #18+ content #transisbeautiful #love triangle #cars #sport

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zer0pm · 11 months

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Imagine somehow finding yourself in the arms of Leon and Luis in the most inopportune times.

“Yeah, no. I don’t know about this, guys.”

“It’s not that big of a drop. You can do this.”

“Easy for you to say, Leon!”

“Calma, my fine friend. Just close your eyes and remember not to lock your knees.”

“Luis, you are not helping.”

You turn your head at the sound of shouting. Further in the distance, a mob of plaga-infected cultists are sprinting towards you three with torches and pitchforks.

Luis walks forward, waving at you to move. “Go! I’ll take care of them.” Not giving you a chance to protest against this reckless idea, the Spaniard bravely rushes straight at the mob with a stack of dynamite in hand.

Seeing no other option, you approach the edge of the cliff. Just seeing how high up you are and how low the lower ground is was enough to make you hesitate and quake in your shoes. The fear of hurting yourself in the fall outweighing your fear of being mauled to pieces by angry villagers.

“I-I… I can’t-”

BOOM!

The thunderous blast along with the violent tremors beneath your feet shocks you so terribly that you practically leap off the rocky edge with a horrified scream. You realize then that you didn’t position yourself properly. You were free falling with your head facing the sky, hurdling towards the ground without any means to cushion your landing. Anticipating great pain, your eyes shut tight. An involuntary, terror-stricken yelp escapes you when you no longer felt the rush of wind, awaiting your back to harshly collide with the hard ground.

The pain doesn’t come. You didn’t feel any dirt and grovel, but still felt yourself pressed against something hard and firm. You are also suspended, to your surprise, your weight supported by a steady hold beneath your shoulders and knees.

A husky voice calls out to you. “You okay?”

You didn’t realize that you still had your eyes closed, opening them to see a familiar blond gazing down at you. The icy color in his eyes flash with genuine concern. Piecing together that Leon broke your fall by catching you in his arms, your cheeks burn a tinge of pink that does not go unnoticed.

The agent throws you a small grin at your silence, “I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t worry, not going to let anything happen to you. I got your back. Literally.”

There is an unmistakable warmth in his expression, a magnetic glint in his eyes that you couldn’t tear yourself away from. Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. You want to thank him but found yourself at a loss for words. Leon’s gaze switches from your eyes to your mouth then, bright blues lingering. The way he is looking at you, it is like he is placed in a trance. Whether it was done purposefully or he was subconsciously driven to readjust your weight in his hands, the man tightens his hold on you, bringing your chests tightly together.

His lips open slightly, mimicking yours, and it is then did you notice just how close your faces are. You feel yourself falling under the same spell, your senses becoming dizzy from his musky scent and it is as if his entire being is enveloping you. In a way, you are completely surrounded by him. And he seems to be moving closer to you yet, his lips slowly inching forward…

“¡Oye, Yanqui!” Both of you look up in alarm to see Luis yelling, the dark-haired man still at the top of the cliff above. It seems the mob that was pursuing you three no longer posed as a danger as you didn’t hear or see any furious monsters behind him. Luis must have also been observing the interaction between you two as he had an amused expression on his rugged face. You almost swore that you can see a bit of green in his grey eyes. “What about me?”

Leon merely gives the Spaniard a deadpan look. “What about you?”

Luis rolls his eyes, gesturing with arms wide as if what he was hinting towards is obvious. “Would be nice to have a certain Prince Charming break my fall too.”

The blond scoffs. “Sucks to be you,” he retorts, promptly walking the other direction and purposefully moving further away from the cliffside.

You watch intently as Luis’ shoulders slump, the man visibly heaving a deep, defeated sigh before analyzing the height of the drop. He jumps off with a running start and a worried gasp rips from your throat when he doesn’t stick the landing, tumbling about in a not-so-graceful fashion before finally coming to a rest on his side. Your ears pick up the Spaniard groaning curses in his native tongue.

“I think Luis hurt himself,” you comment aloud.

Leon doesn’t bother looking back, his steps maintaing a brisk pace. “Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”

The desire to argue with the blond about this was strong, but was quickly dismissed when you spot Luis rising back up to a stand and dusting off his pants. He seemed none the worse for wear. You sigh, a relieved smile easing onto your lips. It drops when you finally register that you are still being carried.

“Uh… Leon?”

The stoic agent acknowledges you with a hum.

“…Think you can put me down?”

You guess that Leon didn’t realize that he was holding you longer than necessary either, the tips of his ears a deep red as he hurriedly helps you back on your feet. He utters an embarrassed apology almost too low for you to hear and you give him a shy thanks in turn, casting your eyes to the ground so that he wouldn’t see your blush blooming again. You didn’t catch the way he beheld you then.

Fortunately, the awkward moment disperses before it could permeate.

Unfortunately, it is because of a gargantuan monster bursting out from seemingly within the mountainside. Upon seeing the three of you, it releases a terrible roar that shakes the very air.

“¡Gigante! Run, amigos!” Luis shouts, catching up to you and Leon. Without warning, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you close behind him as he sprints away.

The giant plaga chases you all through the area for what seems like an eternity. After some time, you feel your lungs and legs start to give out, your feet staggering with each step. Sensing you struggle to keep up the pace, the Spaniard stops abruptly.

You heave with ragged breath, “Luis, we can’t stop-”

He wordlessly sweeps you into his arms with a strength that astounds you. At your surprised expression, the dark-haired man flashes you a toothy grin before running off again with the same quickness he had before. Not once did he stumble or falter.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, you would have berated Luis for his arrogance and him taking on the burden of literally carrying your weight without so much as giving you a say in the matter. However, you were too exhausted to argue. This moment of respite was not relished for very long, though, as the two of you come to a sudden stop once again. The two of you are overlooking yet another high cliff.

You groan in tired exasperation. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Panic grips at your heart, you glance over Luis’ broad shoulder with fearful eyes to see if the monster is still in pursuit. To your astonishment, you see the large beast distracted in one spot several paces away. Distracted by a certain blond who was firing at it relentlessly. Leon was unleashing hell upon the plaga without fear, but the shells seem to only bounce off its hard skin. Despite how ineffective the attacks appear, it is apparently enough to hold the giant’s attention. For how long, you were loathe to find out.

Catching you staring, Leon yells over the gunfire. “What are you two waiting for? Jump!”

Jump?!

You peek back over the edge. There’s a body of water below and terror-filled thoughts ran frantically in your hyperactive mind.

Are the waters shallow? Are they deep? You swear that you can see sharp rocks too. There’s no way any of you can do this and live to tell the tale.

A firm squeeze on your side pulls you from the depths of your increasing panic. You turn your head to see Luis smiling patiently. It is not the playful smirk he often wears but rather it is one that offered nothing but sincere reassurance.

Luis speaks up softly, the seriousness in his thick accent even and irrefutable, “My friend, do you trust me?”

His question didn’t need an answer. You knew what he was implying. And although you were scared out of your wits, you found comfort in Luis’ confidence. There is an unwavering determination is his grey gaze, a silent promise that your safety is assured with him.

His bright smile widens at the sight of your nod and he returns it with one of his own. “Hold onto me.”

You follow his order, wrapping your arms tight around his neck. For the second time, you shut your eyes, bracing for another long fall.

A moment passes.

Two.

Nothing.

You don’t hear yourself being carried further away from the sound of Leon’s gunshots. You don’t feel the rush of wind against your face or your body and clothes submerged in water. Overwhelmed with curiosity, you open your eyes and discover Luis still staring down at you. There is an intense emotion in his silver gaze that you couldn’t place.

“Luis, what’s happening? What’s wrong?”

He tilts his head. “Nada. Was just thinking that at a time like this,” he begins to say slowly, the tone of his voice dropping to depths that sent flutters into your heart, “we could use a bit of good luck. A favor shared between a knight and his intended. What do you say?”

You were going to ask what he was going on about, but the question becomes stuck in your throat when you see his face dip down to yours. Your noses bump at the tips and he inches closer still. You didn’t realize you stopped breathing until your lungs forced you to suck in much needed air, the taste of his breath warm upon your tongue.

Your heart was pounding loudly against your chest, blood pumping through your veins so fiercely that you thought you would faint right then and there. Your mind becomes totally blank and all you can process is the faint brush of Luis’ lips…

Bump!

“Ugh-!”

“Ahhhhh!!”

The sudden jolt of your body rushing forward brings you back to awareness. You’re falling. Again! But it isn’t you that is screaming now. It’s Luis. He’s falling next to you. In the corner of your eye, you catch a pair of gloved hands grasping on both of your forearms.

Three bodies plunge into the chilly waters. You were flailing about, unable to regain equilibrium, and you thought for certain that you were going to drown. But luck was on your side yet again as you’re pulled to the open surface by strong hands on your person. Sweet air then returns to your lungs.

“¡Loco hijo de puta! Were you trying to kill us?!”

“Don’t give me that, I told you two to jump.”

Leon and Luis already had their heads above the water by the time you regained your wits, the two of them arguing back and forth. You tuned out their squabble in favor of searching for the gigante. The monster peering down high above. With a furious roar, it retreats back from whence it came, leaving you three alone for good, and relief washes over you. Looking around, your eyes then find a stretch of land that the three of you could swim towards. You made a move to start paddling to safety, not wanting to linger in case there were more terrors treading about below. Or at least you tried to.

You couldn’t move. Your body was quite literally pressed in between the two men. Their arms circled around you, keeping you afloat and securely in place. You could feel every inch of their hard muscles pressing against your front and back. Despite the freezing chill of the water surrounding you, your body felt like it was lit aflame. The handsome agent and the dashing Spaniard cease their bickering when they hear you gasp.

Leon, who is behind you, looks at the back of your bowed head. His hardened expression softening to that of worry as he called your name. “Are you hurt? We should get you out of the water fast.”

Luis, who is in front of you, observes you with a knowing smirk. His teasing, cheeky demeanor returning tenfold. He was about to say something, but you silence him with a deathly glare.

You totally miss the look of confusion on Leon’s face when Luis starts busting out laughing. Being close to these two is a new kind of dangerous.

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 4 months

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You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

#sorry it took so long #yandere #yandere x reader #gn reader #genderbent #yandere king #yandere prince #love triangle #strong reader #cw blo0d #cw death

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