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#nobody would ever give me feedback
elytrafemme · 2 years
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what do i have to do for it to matter. people get medication and people get treatments and people get sympathy and people get explanations and people get diagnoses and people get to check all the boxes. it feels like my brain is physically forcing itself not to be too close to an explanation because at the last moment all symptoms will suddenly go away (i’m going to fucking kill Dahlia actually, because I think she’s the reason this keeps happening to me and even if she isn’t I’m just going to keep going until i find the bastard who is responsible). i go to therapy for five fucking years and nothing ever changes. it took whoever i was before this to fucking die before i could be split into this system and that was the most change we ever went through positively was someone fucking disappearing. 
oh mare you could have bipolar ... if your hypomanic periods were more rhythmic :/ or if the manias were worse lol :/ you could have psychosis but its not that bad :/ schizophrenia but you’re too “functional” you talk too “articulately” you’re never getting “anywhere” :/ you could have BPD but your life would be sooooo much more miserable mare and aren’t you happy :/ you could have CPTSD but you can’t even remember what happened to you can you? :/ 
I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. I’ve done EVERYTHING right I have been so much BETTER about recovery than anybody I have met in my entire fucking life and I get nothing for it. I go to every therapy session I do all the positive self talk I try not to be toxic to people I try EVERYTHING more than ANYBODY. and all I get? Nothing. I never get ANYTHING. 
#DON'T REBLOG and yes I fucking KNOW i can turn off the feature thanks for telling me it doesn't work on desktop#I'm not fucking stupid#negative#vent#I am so sick of this i don't CARE if you think I have it better than you i do not give a SHIT about you I don't care about anything! ever!#I have no fucking allies on this earth NOBODY#my ex and best friend fucking LAUGHED at some of my trauma I don't care I don't care anymore#I don't even WANT to be self destructive but maybe I just need to give reasons for people to actually EXPLAIN things to me#i got told I had a grandiosity episode during a session and that shit was like cocaine I need to get that feedback I need to KNOW#that this isn't in my HEAD but NOBODY FOLLOWS UP! NOBODY SAYS ANYTHING!#people wouldn't LOVE me at ALL if I wasn't mentally ill! I know this! I know this for a fact!#NONE of you would like me if I wasn't mentally ill!#because who the fuck do you THINK you like who do you THINK i am#because whoever you THINK i am is wrong and it actually makes me sick to my stomach#when I realize what you must think of me. because you think all these positive things#and it's so superficial there are no WORDS to describe anything on this earth that any of us can USE#language is stupid and contrived and idiotic none of us know who each other are because we can't explain it#it's just stupid fucking adjectives! and stupid fucking words!#and I wish diagnoses were stupid fucking words but excuse me for wanting to know!#you have NO IDEA what i would do just to KNOW#I would rather force every single alter in my system a brutal death or domantation or SOMETHING#if it meant that I could know what's wrong with me#I would kill my best friends just for that#something that other people get for free just by being a little worse than me#I'm not better than you I'm just not you. we're not the same. not on a molecular level#I shouldn't have been born on this stupid fucking earth this was never my home.
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supercutszns · 5 months
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rotten to the touch; luke castellan
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series masterlist
wc: 3.2k
pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.
warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’
notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain
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You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.
It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.
It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.
Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.
But everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.
But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?
Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.
You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.
During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.
He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.
Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.
Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.
Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.
The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.
But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.
An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”
“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.
You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”
“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”
You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.
The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.
Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.
To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?
They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:
“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”
You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.
“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.
Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.
The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.
He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.
“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.
“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”
It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”
You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”
His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?���
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”
You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”
The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.
“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”
“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.
He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”
It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”
He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”
“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”
Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.
But when you play, you play to win.
“You don’t know that,” he dares.
“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”
However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.
He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”
All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.
“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.
He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”
The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.
“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”
His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.
“One of?” You challenge.
“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”
You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”
His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”
There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.
His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.
His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”
“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”
Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.
He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.
“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.
“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.
He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”
“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.
He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”
Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.
It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.
He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.
After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.
“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.
“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”
You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”
“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”
“Thanks, dipshit.”
“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”
The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.
The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.
He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”
He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.
After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.
He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”
And damn it, you really do believe him.
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danveration · 4 months
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Sleep well, amour Pt. 2
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: After falling asleep to his voice, you wake up and get confronted by Alastor. Later, you walk in on him sleeping.
Word count: 1523
Warnings: Mention of Alastor eating and k*lling a deer
part one
A/N: PART TWO IS HERE!!! I had SO many options wracking my brain on where to take this, but I picked this one! I hope you all enjoy it :’) let me know if you have any feedback, I’d love to hear it. Also, I’m currently working on all the requests I got :) as well as part 2 to that-no-good-first-man-on-earth
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You wake up, blinking and looking around. Momentarily forgetting where you are.
Shit. You fell asleep in Alastor’s recording room. Thankfully, he isn’t here right now.
Before you could get up, you notice a purple blanket on you. It seems to be the one that was on his coat hanger. Did Alastor put this on you..? The thought has you smiling and your cheeks reddening.
Alastor’s voice sure does have an effect on you. You look outside to see what time it is, but remember that it’s Hell and the sky is always the same shade of red. You’re going to have to get used to that.
Getting up, you put the blanket back on the hanger and look around some more. It feels some-what intimate right now to be in his space when he’s not around. You wonder how long you’ve been asleep for.
You walk over to his table and notice a red “play” button on his radio equipment and are tempted to press it. It surely won’t cause any harm to hear what he was talking about when you were asleep. You press it and listen.
“Haha! For any sinner, I know it’s a tempting question. But I-“ The recording fast forwards. “Nevertheless, I find it quite amusing that this technology box thinks he is on any sort of level to me! Call me crazy but the sinners have been taaallkinggg, and they think he sounds quite obsessed.” He laughs, knowing Vox is probably listening.
You smile at his voice and find it funny how he is a bit of a drama queen when it comes to his radio broadcasts. You know deep down he doesn’t actually care about the whole situation with Vox, but it’s still funny how he entertains it.
Looking to your right, you see a mug that has “Oh Deer” written on it. There seems to be a bit of black coffee still left in the mug. The “deer” reference made you giggle. You’ve always wondered about his past and how exactly he is part deer anyhow. Oh well, It’ll reveal itself with time.
You’re looking at all the other buttons on his equipment, wondering what they do, when all of a sudden you hear light footsteps on the other side of the door. It’s most likely Alastor. Nobody would willingly go to his room without permission.
The door opens slowly and in steps Alastor. You notice how he opened the door quietly, to not make make much noise. As he still assumed you were asleep. You smiled at that.
He looks ahead and sees you, immediately smiling. “Ah! My dear. You’re awake!” He claps his hands together, his cane leaning on his side.
“Hey Al. Um.. about what happened I-“ You start.
“Ah, ah! No need to explain yourself, sweetheart! Don’t go giving yourself a headache.” He cuts in and laughs.
He looks down at you and says, “you just find comfort in my voice, don’t you?” He asks, with a smug smile.
Your eyes go wide and you stutter. Of course it wasn’t the most secretive thing. Still, you didn’t think he actually knew.
“U-um. Well..” You say.
He tilts his head to side as if saying, “Go on…”
There’s really no getting out of this. Plus, you don’t think Alastor would actually care. He’d probably just find it funny.
“Yeah, I do.” You admit. “I find comfort in your voice, of course I do! I just.. I don’t know.”
You aren’t sure what to say, it’s a tad embarrassing.
Alastor begins to laugh.
“I certainly could tell! I find it quite amusing if I do say so myself.” He says.
He definitely doesn’t mind it, he has a soft spot for you. But he’s also a bit confused on why you even do. He knows his radio voice is unique, but nobody ever commented on it bringing them comfort. They usually scream and run away when they hear him. You’ve been there long enough to see him kill and do so many things that people describe as “horrible, satanic, terrifying” but you still find comfort in him nevertheless? He thinks it’s absolutely adorable!
“Amusing?” You ask.
He nods and says, “Amusing, darling! I mean.. you know who I am, do you not?” He laughs and continues. “Though you still find comfort.. now that’s an interesting fact, don’t you think?”
You shy away, looking anywhere but him. You’re comfortable around him, of course, but you’re a tiny but embarrassed of this whole situation. You know he is definitely loving his though.
He places a finger on your jaw and guides your head back to look at him.
“Uh, uh, dear. There’s no need to feel shy! I never said it was a bad thing. I’m truly honoured!” He says, smiling down at you.
You and him have been getting to know each other for a while now and you’ve just been going deeply and deeply more interested in him. You almost laugh at yourself because you sometimes act as if you did when you alive, how you obsessed over fictional characters and “fan fiction.”
You look at him and say, “Well, that’s good then.” You chuckle.
“Mm, it is isn’t it?” He says.
He thinks you’re absolutely pathetic, but in a good way. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you, this new sensation is something he never wants to get rid of.
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Later that day, Charlie wanted you to pass a message on to Alastor about the hotel reservations. You knew he was in his room because he mentioned that if you needed him, he’d be in there having some dinner (aka, deer). Which he has in his half room half forest. You really wonder how on earth he even did that. The wonders of being a radio demon!
You’re at his door, lightly knocking. You wait a few seconds but you don’t hear anything from the other side.
“Al?” You question while knocking again.
“Hm.” You think.
You aren’t sure if you should go in or not. Sure, the thing Charlie told you about could wait but you also wanted to make sure he was okay. What if he.. choked or something? You’re sure the radio demon could handle that but you just want to make sure.
“Al, I’m coming in.. okay?” You say while knocking once more.
You slowly twist the knob and push the door open. Peaking in, you see him on the other side of the room, in a chair.
“Alastor, are you alr-“ You stop yourself when you notice his eyes are closed.
Closing the door behind you, you walk up to him.
He’s currently sitting in the chair, his arm on the table and his head resting on his hand. He looks so peaceful. His mouth isn’t smiling and his face just looks so.. relaxed. You’ve never saw him like this before. He mumbles occasionally and his ears twitch every so often as he sleeps. You aren’t sure how he finds this position comfortable, but you smile at it nonetheless.
You don’t want to disturb him so you leave, now relaxed that you know he’s okay.
Right before you grab the knob of the door, you hear, “Y/n?”
You whip your head back and you see him standing up, looking at you with his smile.
“Did you need something, dear?” He asks, as if he wasn’t just dead asleep a second ago.
Of course, it makes sense he is a light sleeper.
“O-oh, no. Charlie just wanted me to tell you that the renovations went well and that the guys who inspect the place will be here tomorrow!” You say. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Ahh, alright! And nonsense! You couldn’t disturb me.” He says.
You look at him and smile.
“You know, you could join me if you want! I was just resting and then going to have some dinner.” He offers.
You perk up but then remember that Husk assigned you a task of picking up crates of whiskey for the bar.
“Shit, sorry. I can’t. I have to go get more alcohol for the bar.” You say with a frown.
“More? If I remember correctly, we just got new shipments in.. last week?” He says with a laugh. “Though I’m not surprised we ran out again. Husker is a busy man. Well, my dear. Some other time, then!”
You notice him looking back into the forest, eyeing a deer.
“Yeah, some other time.” You smile. “Have a good dinner, Alastor!”
He smiles back at you says, “Oh I will.” He chuckles, his radio eyes making an appearance as he looks back the deer.
“You have yourself a lovely day, sweetheart!” He says with a wave.
“You too!” Waving back, you then open the door and leave. Once you leave you hear shrieking on the other side of the door, definitely the deer that Al was eyeing.
You’re excited to have more encounters with him, and even take him up on the dinner offer! You remember him mentioning he wanted to introduce you to his friend, Rosie. You’re looking forward to it.
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chxrryhansen · 3 months
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘
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Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!
Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)
here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.
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Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.
Until Fury resigned that was.
Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.
Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.
Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.
Not that you had a choice anyway.
Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.
A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.
Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.
The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.
They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.
From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.
You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.
He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.
He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.
They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.
But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.
"Get on your knees."
"Wh-What?"
"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.
You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.
Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.
There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.
He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."
You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.
Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.
His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.
You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.
His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.
Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.
"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.
He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.
He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.
"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."
Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.
You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.
He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.
Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.
"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."
His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.
"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.
Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.
Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.
"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.
He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.
Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”
You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.
Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.
"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.
"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."
"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.
Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."
and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.
"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"
"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.
The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.
"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.
"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”
Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.
The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.
“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”
“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.
"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."
Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.
"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.
His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.
"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.
"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.
“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.
He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.
Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.
Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.
But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.
Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.
People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.
You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.
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brnesblogposts · 3 months
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Stuck
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bucky barnes x reader
a/n miscommunication & close proximity trope is all i’m gonna say, it’s very fluffy once well- read it and find out reblogs appreciated!!!
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“You’ve gotta be shitting me” Bucky speaks under his breath, frustration evident in his body language and tone. A feedback sound started on the speakers on the ferris wheel.
“Ladies and gentlemen there seems to be some technical issues with the ferris wheel, remain calm and stay seated and we should have it back up and running soon”
You heard a heavy sigh escape from Bucky as his head hung back in defeat.
“They said it’ll be fixed soon, won’t have to be stuck with me for long Buck” Trying to cut the tension that sat between him and yourself only earned a side glance from the man beside you.
You looked down to the car just beneath you “STEVE, NAT!! ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??!” Their heads whipping towards you as you spoke at a far too loud volume.
“WE’RE OKAY! YOU?” Natasha replied back and you gave her a thumbs up, her and Steve getting back to bickering and giggling about whatever they were talking about. Meanwhile you were sat next to Mr Grumpy-
“Can you stop moving,” he spat out without looking at you. Bold of you to assume you were getting somewhere with him, even on the brink of considering him a ‘friend’ but that idea was shot down quickly.
“I’m not moving, it’s probably the wind or maybe it’s you and you don’t realise” Tapping your fingers on the barrier that held you in place, he turned to you and gave you a bitter look which only made the situation more awkward and tense.
“How’d i get dragged onto the ferris wheel anyway” He huffs.
“Because, Steve and Nat are your best friends and also Nat is really scary and saying yes was easier than saying no” You looked down at the two as you spoke, their flirting ever so obvious even from your height.
A few minutes passed where nobody said anything, you both avoided eye contact and it gave you time to reflect on what you could’ve done to make Bucky so impassive to you, you’d barely talked to him because if you tried he disregarded you or made an excuse to leave as soon as possible. You really wanted to be his friend too. It’s awkward when the four of you go out and Steve and Nat obviously want to do things together as a couple making you stuck with Bucky and him with you. At least being civil is all you want, for Bucky to be able to hold a conversation with you longer than a few seconds.
“Are you cold?” His voice broke you from your thoughts, you were shivering and you hadn’t realised as you were so deep in your head. You looked at the goosebumps on your arms and turned to him,
“I guess I am, yeah.” you laughed at your ignorance for not noticing your body temperature drop. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky starting to take his jumper off.
“What are you doing?” You furrowed your brows at his action, there’s no way he was about to give that to you, he doesn’t even like you, you don’t think so anyway based on every interaction you’ve had with him ever.
“I’m giving you my sweater?” Now he was confused, it was quite obvious to him what he was doing, why else would he take off the jumper and sacrifice himself so you could be warm? He’s a gentleman first if anything. He got it over is head and handed it you, you took a second to take it as you were flabbergasted at his sudden kindness towards you.
“Oh.” You broke your gaze from him down to the jumper “Thank you,” you smiled gratefully and put the jumper on. The sleeves swallowed your hands, which helped because they were freezing before. Then you looked back at Bucky who now sat next to you in nothing but a black t-shirt “Are you not cold?” Once again furrowing your brows in his direction.
“Not as cold as you” He was looking straight ahead at the city view from your spot at the top of the ferris wheel. Reading his expression was impossible and you were really trying to—
“Okay well uh— thanks again.” You repeated your thanks as you snuggled into the jumper that now enveloped you, “So.. kinda awkward, huh?” You tried cracking a joke laughing a little as you did so which made Bucky turn to face you, analysing his features which you didn’t notice softened as he saw you smiling.
Bucky coughed awkwardly “Uh-“ He let out a small laugh too “Looks like Steve and Nat aren’t bothered by this disruption at all” His tone was lighter.
“Those two wouldn’t notice the world ending while they’re gazing at each other like that” You laughed again, Bucky liked that sound.
“So in love, it’s sickening” He retorted with a shake of his head and a smile which earned a glance from you, just a brief one before you looked back down at your sweater paws as they rested on the barrier, Bucky has noticed and he found it endearing, he felt warm whenever he saw you smile or heard you laugh and every time your thigh accidentally touched his due to your close proximity he swears a bolt of electricity travelled through him making his heart beat faster.
“I think it’s cute” You had a small pout on your face as you spoke, still looking down towards your two friends “imagine being stuck on a ferris wheel with someone you love, not the worst thing in the world in my opinion, it’s kind of like an impromptu date where you have no choice but to talk because the other option is incredibly awkward silence” You fiddled with the sleeves of the jumper.
“I guess, but what if you were trapped on a ferris wheel with someone you liked who you knew didn’t feel the same, that’s awkward all on its own” He was playing with a thread on his jeans as he spoke, you noticed.
“How would they know if the other person didn’t feel the same? Had they asked?” You inquired as the tension between you grew once again because the situation was too close to home.
“Isn’t asking embarrassing though?” Bucky asked breathily, like he was nervous.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t?” He looked at you.
“I mean the worst that can happen is they say no and you’re sad for a bit but you’d move on eventually” You smiled but you weren’t looking at him.
“Right, yeah” He coughed awkwardly again and the silence resumed until he broke it about a minute later “Uhm” clearing his throat again Bucky decided it was now or never “Are you doing anything Friday night?” He closed his eyes for a brief second because there was no going back now.
“No, why?” You looked at him and smiled, maybe he’d finally be your friend, that was progress and you could work with that.
“Would you uh- like to get dinner with me? Like a date..?” He avoided your gaze as he asked.
“What” It caught you off guard and you responded without thinking.
“Fuck” He swore to himself “sorry forget I said anything, I don’t know what was going through my-“ He began to ramble.
“Bucky no I mean, I thought you didn’t like me” His head turned to face you as he thought about your words.
“What? No I do like you” He furrowed his brows thinking back on the interactions you’d had where he hadn’t realised he’d been so nervous it came off as rude. “Shit i’m sorry, i’ve been an ass to you now that I think about it, I wasn’t trying to though, I thought I was uh- I thought i was disguising my attraction to you well because i didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I guess it came off dickish” He internally slapped himself at his mistake
“Oh, OH” The realisation and his admission hit you “Awe, Bucky,” you laughed at how silly it all was, if you’d have just talked to each other sooner this could’ve been avoided “Bucky I would love to go to dinner with you” You smiled at the man.
The ferris wheel suddenly began again and you were on your way down, both smiling like idiots and laughing whenever you’d glance at each other, two idiots that had liked each other this whole time who didn’t know it. You both stepped off the car and down the stairs smiling and giggling still and approached Natasha and Steve,
“What the hell happened up there?” Natasha laughed because she had never seen the two of you so cosy before, Steve raised a brow but you two only burst out laughing again and started walking ahead of them and snickering as they both stared in confusion and disbelief.
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etfrin · 2 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-four | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | murder, getting away with murder, minor character death, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, fingering (f. receiving), hints of edging, blood kink if you squint, creampie, virgin! Coryo lossing virginity | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 the end
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 the last chapter! I probably won't do an epilogue, i am not entirely sure on it yet! But this wraps up their story!! I hope you guys liked it! Make sure to reblog and give ne your feedback!
beta read by an angel (TRUTH) @nowitsmissing
thank you to everyone who was on this journey with me... I love you guys!
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Coriolanus finds Lucy Gray near the hanging tree. It was nearly evening. Lucy Gray's eyes were red. Coriolanus ignored the pity he felt. Soon, Lucy Gray would join Sejanus Plinth.
“Lucy Gray,” he hissed, taking her attention away from the tree.
“You'll need to leave,” he said, his voice faking desperation, “to the North. Sejanus would have wanted that.”
“What about you?” Lucy Gray asked, “What about the Covey?”
“The Covey will live, Lucy Gray, you know that. They're strong. They're survivors,” he replied, “as for me, I wish to leave with you. I can't stay in the place that took my friend.”
Coriolanus' eyes quickly filled with tears as soon as he finished. “It's all my fault,” his lips utter, “if only I could have stopped him.”
Lucy Gray looks at him, her face stricken with grief. She doesn't say anything but lets the tears fall down her cheeks. She pulls Coriolanus into a hug.
“The Peacekeepers will look for me, I'll stay in the cabin for the night,” Lucy Gray said. There was a cabin, near the lake, over the fence of the district. Nobody ventures that far except the Covey. Coriolanus and Sejanus only found out about its existence due to their connection with Lucy Gray.
He remembered all the moments he spent there with the Covey. It would be a good place for Lucy Gray to perish. Around all the greens and the music of mockingjays inside the forest.
“I'll meet you there tomorrow in the morning with supplies,” he said, holding Lucy Gray's hand, even giving it a friendly squeeze. He was afraid he was overselling the act but Lucy Gray was too sad to notice how over-the-top friendly Coriolanus was acting.
Lucy Gray nods and turns to leave. Her legs were shaky as she walked. Sejanus and Lucy Gray had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons. But everyone would point at her for the mayor’s daughter's death. It didn't end with Sejanus Plinths' death. It won't because the mayor is trying to root out every single rebel, and surely he won't keep alive the girl his daughter hated so much.
Coriolanus finds his way back to the base. It's night by the time he returns. He climbs up the stairs and walks down the hallway to reach your room. He knocks and waits for you to open the door.
You do.
Coryo tried his best not to get distracted at the sight of you. You were looking so pretty. You look beautiful to him all the time. “Hi,” he gasps out.
“Hey,” you smile, giving him space to walk inside the room. Peacekeepers knew by now that something was going on between him and you. They knew better than to gossip about it though. It was clear you had the power to do anything you wanted. And everyone knew not to mess with someone from the Capitol.
That is why Coriolanus knew even if he spent the night here. He won't get in trouble. He pulls off his Peacekeeper uniform and wears one of the big, oversized sweatshirts you bought from the Capitol. The softness of the fabric makes him shy. He felt like a boy again. It was a feeling he never thought he would enjoy. For a moment, he could pretend he was in the Capitol, in his home, before the games had ever happened.
“You look comfy,” you tease him, as you find your home in his arms.
“I am,” he murmurs, his lips kissing your temple.
“I talked to Lucy Gray,” he informs you, “You were right. She's going to the north and she'll stay in the cabin for the night.”
“Hmm,” you hum, as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft kisses to his pulse. Your arms around him, and his arms around you. Both of you caging each other. The heat of both of your bodies mingled into a pleasant warmth.
“Well, then my revolver will come in handy soon,” you whispered, a bit tired.
“They let you bring one here?” He questions.
“Special privileges,” you replied.
Any other day Coriolanus would feel jealousy pulling at his heart, a frown formatting on his face. Today, he just… didn't care. He didn't care that you had more benefits than him. He didn't care that you lived better than him.
You're his.
Could anything be better than that?
He doesn't think so.
“Typical,” he said, his head now on your shoulders.
“Uh huh,” you add, “Stay the night.”
“Of course, dove.”
You lay down on the bed beside him. His arm was thrown over your waist, and your legs tangled with him. You gently let your nails scratch at his buzz cut. He sighs, relaxing from your touch.
“Tomorrow is a big day,” you remind him, “We'll have to finish everything by noon and catch the train in the evening.”
“We?” He questioned.
“I talked with Dr. Gaul,” you revealed, a bit hesitant, “She wants you back.” You frown, “Don't let the news deter from our plan Coriolanus, it's important we leave no strings behind.”
Coriolanus blinks, trying to take in your words. A smile splits on his face. He couldn't believe this, he had thought he would have to wait for months before Dr. Gaul let him get back to the Capitol. Snow thought she would be petty like that. But you somehow managed to convince her otherwise. It was shocking, to say the least.
“I will go to the Capitol with you tomorrow,” he said. He repeats, “I'll go to the Capitol with you tomorrow!”
You giggled, “Yes, Coriolanus. You thought I would leave you behind? It took some… it doesn't matter. We'll have our happily ever after.”
“I can't believe it,” he whispers, his eyes shining with joy, even with the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes sparkling.
“You should,” you whispered, “now sleep, darling. It's a big day tomorrow.”
Coriolanus couldn't believe it. He pressed your lips against yours. “Thank you,” he lets out, “I love you.” Coriolanus takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your wrist, on the number tattooed on your skin. “I love you, my dove,” he whispered.
“I love you too, pretty boy,” you whispered.
Coriolanus pulls impossible closer as if he were trying to mold both of your souls together. “I am glad you're mine,” he said. He kissed your forehead. “You're mine forever,” he whispered, a hint of darkness, and obsession creeping into his voice.
It made you bite your lower lip as you heard the possessiveness in his voice. “I know,” you replied, “You're mine too.” You add, your voice muffled as your face was pressed into his chest, “Nobody can take you away from me ever again.”
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
In the morning, both of you quietly wake up in each other's arms. Coriolanus yawns, “Good morning, dove.” You hum something Coriolanus couldn't hear in reply.
It was so early that the sun had just begun to rise. However, he could hear the sound of rain. Coriolanus quickly gets out of the bed. He softly pats you on the cheek, smiling as you continue to fight the battle against sleep.
“See you soon,” he whispered, taking the revolver you had in your drawer and walking out of the room. He finds himself on his bunk bed, everyone else is sleeping, and he quickly begins to pack things inside of his bags. The supplies he told Lucy Gray about. When he is done, he briefly stops by in front of Sejanus Plinth's bed.
There was a box in which Sejanus Plinth kept his belongings. Coriolanus opens it to find letters, medicine, and two photos. One of Lucy Gray. Another was of Coriolanus and Sejanus, a photo taken from the time during the broadcast of the 10th Games. It seemed like yesterday.
Coriolanus Snow had no explanation for the tears that fell down his cheeks. Sejanus Plinth was dead. Snow had given Dr. Gaul the gun, and you made her pull the trigger. It's in her hands the blood of Sejanus truly was. Not on him nor you.
Coriolanus wipes his tears away. “She's coming soon to you, buddy,” he whispered to the picture. He wondered if Sejanus would thank him for his next actions, or curse him. Coriolanus doesn't think about it much, he leaves.
Soon enough, he reaches the cabin. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out. Lucy Gray opens the door, giving Coriolanus a polite smile. Lucy Gray lets him inside. He enters, looking around the old cabin he has been inside of many times. Coriolanus sets his bag down. Wondering about what he should do next. Should he wait for you? Should he take out the gun and shoot now?
Before he can decide his next actions, Lucy Gray pulls out a knife. “I think I’ll go dig up some Katniss since we got the fire going anyway. There’s a good patch by the lake.”
“I thought they weren’t ready,” he said. Katniss was another word for swamp potato. It grew around here, but just a few days ago Lucy Gray told him it wasn't ready for harvest.
“Two weeks can make a lot of difference,” she said.
“It’s raining,” he objected. “You’ll get soaked.”
She replied, “Well, I’m not made of sugar.”
Coriolanus lets her walk outside. It was a form of mercy, trying to give her some time to run. He knew that Lucy Gray's survival instincts were good. That was the only reason she had survived the arena.
But she won't be able to survive him.
Coriolanus follows her trail after a moment passes. She wasn't down the lake as she promised, but her footsteps were towards the forest. Coriolanus smirks as he takes the revolver out, and gets the gun ready for a shot.
“Let the hunger games begin,” he whispered, “may the odds be in your favor.”
Coriolanus continues to follow her trail quietly and quickly, using the training of being a Peacekeeper. His gun pointed in front of him, ready to be shot the moment he saw her. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out, his voice warm as if he wasn't going to murder, “Where are you? We need to leave soon.”
“Lucy Gray!” He turns when he hears footsteps and shoots, hoping not to miss. The shot met with flesh, the sound booming in his ear, much more overwhelming than the tap tap of the rain. He walks towards the body that is now in front of him. Red blood mixed with the rainwater on the ground, staining the greenery around them.
He shot her right in the chest.
Lucy Gray was dead.
She joined Sejanus Plinth in the afterlife and will spend the rest of eternity cursing Coriolanus. Snow couldn't find himself to clear. He felt relieved. No one can drag him down now. The only way for him was to climb the ladder and reach the peak. Coriolanus uses his feet to turn her dead body around. There was blood dripping down her lips, her dress red and her were nearly closed. She was nothing more than a dead body. Gone was the songbird.
Now it was time to get rid of the body.
He was grateful that the rain would cover the tracks. But he had to be careful as it was easy to slip and get hurt himself. He drags the body without any rush, he thinks of you, waiting in the cabin for him to come back. Both of you will go back to the Capitol. Snow will be together with his family, in the future you'll also become his family. Everything was going to be fine.
This was nothing but a simple stepping stone.
He could feel his arms getting tired but he continued to drag the body by her arms until he reached the edge of the lake. There was a boat. He wondered briefly if he should just take her on the boat and cross to the middle of the river to let her drown. But decided that it would be too much trouble, and pushed her to the river. A big splash occurs. And he could see Lucy Gray slowly but surely falling to her end.
Lucy Gray was gone from this world forever.
He throws the revolver into the river as well. The body would decompose in a matter of days. Everyone would think of her as a traitor. Even if the Covey comes to visit the lake again, they'll never know it's their beloved Lucy Gray's grave.
Coriolanus Snow reaches the cabin and opens the door to see you holding a Peacekeeper’s gun. The same gun he had used to shoot Mayfair and Billy Taupe. “Guess Spruce hid it here,” you grin at him. You were slightly wet from the rain, unlike him, he was soaking wet.
“Yeah,” he lets out, his shoulders relaxed, his face mirroring your smile. “We'll have to throw those in the lake too.”
You chuckled, “Let's not leave any stones unturned.”
Coryo couldn't take it anymore, the adrenaline was too much. “We won't,” he said, as he walked towards you until your back was on the wall. He takes the gun from you and throws it to the side. Neither of you flinch from the loud noise, the two of you too focused on each other instead. He closes the space between the both of you.
“But for now, I want you,” he adds, “No- that's not right. I need you, here.”
He doesn't wait for a reply. He crashed his lips to yours. You find yourself kissing him back. Your tongue exploring his mouth, he sucks at your bottom lip. Not caring that his teeth are digging into your flesh too harshly, that he's responsible for the coppery taste that occurs while you continue kissing.
“You sure?” You gasp as you break the kiss. A string of saliva connecting you both. Coriolanus doesn't reply, he finds his solace from the taste of your skin. He pressed his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing down your pulse. You softly moan, tilting your head to give him more access.
Coryo takes full advantage of that. He was going to claim you any way that he could. Carving his initials on your skin wasn't the only way after all. Cumming inside of you, giving your pretty red hickeys, the print of his fingers on your hips, even the soulmate tattoo you have on your wrist. All these are ways for him to fucking own you.
And own you he shall.
He bites onto your neck as if trying to tear out your flesh. He wants to consume you, soul and all. You cry out, your back arching. Your hips meet his, and he presses his hard bulge against you. He finds himself in between your legs. Your clothed cunt against his denim-cladded cock. You begin to grind against him, as he continues the assault on your neck.
The teeth mark he placed on your skin will remain for days. It will bruise on doubt. Coriolanus didn't have it in him right now to be gentle. He was too fucking drunk on you for that. All of his desires were rushing through, breaking his walls and overwhelming his mind.
“Fuck,” he curses as he realized his lips are red from your blood. His bites had broken your skin and now tiny droplets of blood were forming. He licks them all up and murmurs an apology. He pressed his lips on yours, painting your lips the same shade as his and making you taste yourself. His hips had slowed down the grinding against you.
He steps back and begins to undress. He lets his t-shirt and jeans fall to the ground. He takes his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. He grips the base of length, trying to control himself as he watches you follow suit.
He pulls you against him again and nods his head towards the floor. You understand his intention and lay down. He bites his lip, sudden nerves overcoming him. He doesn't know what to do despite the raunchy stories he has heard from his fellow Peacekeepers.
Is he supposed to hold your hand or your hips? Should he just push in? Isn't he supposed to prep you first? Or are you wet enough? Fuck… it wasn't the first time he was intimate with you. He hadn't gone all the way but he was familiar with your body. But most of the time he was overwhelmed with his desire to think about what to do or not to do. This time his mind was clear, he was focusing solely on you and he wanted you to experience nothing less of ecstasy from his touch.
“Coryo?” you question, bringing him out of his internal monologue. “Is there anything wrong?”
“I-” he doesn't want to admit, but he knows he has to, “I don't know what to do right now.”
“You can do whatever you like. I'll tell you if you mess up, sweetheart.”
“I know,” he sighs, his eyes on your tits, he licks his lips, “but I am-” He swallows, trying to explain, “I want you. I don't know how to take you. Everything feels like too much or too little.”
You sit up. You gently cradle his cheeks in your hands. “We have all the time in the world, Coryo. What do you wanna do first?”
“I-” He doesn't form a full sentence, instead he kisses you. His hand is on your nape and another trailing down your body as he softly nips at your lips. He dips down his hand in between your legs, he pressed his palm onto your cunt. He lets himself be coated by your arousal. His breath hitches as he feels your heat in such an obscene way.
“Oh,” he whispered as he pressed a single finger inside of your walls. “I missed this.” He remembers the night when he first felt your tight, slick walls like this. He was rough that night, a bit mean too. Coriolanus wasn't going to be the same today. He plans to worship you.
He begins to slowly thrust his index finger inside of you. His head on your shoulder, his lips kissing any inch of skin he could find as he continues to stretch you out with a single finger. Then he adds another one, he was met with resistance, but he pressed his thumb to your clit. That makes you gasp, your cunt squeezing around his fingers when his thumb begins to draw small circles on the bud.
“Relax, dove,” he whispered, giving you goosebumps.
He doesn't begin to move his fingers even when you whine impatiently, your walls twitching around his digits. Once he deems that you're relaxed enough, he begins to slowly push inside of your pussy, as deep as his fingers could reach. He was trying his best to get you ready for his cock.
His fingertips begin to press into your walls, trying to find that one spot that would get you drunk on him as much as he's drunk on you. He knows he found the spot when he feels your walls pulse around his digits like it had a heartbeat of its own. You gasp his name and he smirks. He whispers to your ear, “That's it, huh?”
“Yes!” You moan, “Faster!”
Coriolanus Snow obeys because he can never say no to you. He begins to fuck his fingers inside of you faster, slipping his ring finger inside of you as well. He thrusts his digits fast and hard, he groans as he sees your pussy stretched to accommodate his long digits. He keeps his fingers slightly curved so that with each thrust he would press into your g-spot.
“Fuck, fuck, you're so pretty.”
Coriolanus couldn't be sure if he was saying that to you, or your cunt. He continues to keep up his speed, the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy louder than of the rain. Coriolanus could hear you moan his name as he feels your pussy get impossibly tighter around his digits before your walls begin to spasm all over, locking his digits in. He doesn't pull them out, instead, he continues to press hard onto your spongy pleasure spot until you whine his name.
Your juices were now all over his fingers. He didn't waste a second to taste them. He looks into your eyes as he licks his digits clean. He runs his tongue between the spaces of his fingers, making sure he doesn't miss a single spot. When he's done, you pull him in for a kiss. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, you find yourself in his lap, his back pressed to the wooden floor.
Your hand pulls at the dog tag he wore. You use the necklace like a leash, pulling at it like he's a dog you're commanding. You wrap your fingers around it, your thumb caressing the metal pendant. “You're mine,” you whispered in wonder, “You taste of me.”
Coriolanus nods, agreeing to whatever you say. He just wants you! That's it. Ruin him. Ruin him for everybody else forever! You have that power. Take it and use it, that's all he wants.
You raise your hips, taking his cock in your hand. You pressed his tip against your clit, you gasped as you slowly began to rub his cockhead against your pearl. His pre-cum coating your bud, and soon all over your cunt. You were teasing him every time you let his cockhead get near your slit, but you don't let him slip inside of you. He lets out a whimper when you do it again.
Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyan
“Please-” he whines, “stop teasing.”
“Make me,” you smirk.
Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyance as if in retaliation he kisses you roughly.
“Don't-” kiss, “Play-,” kiss, “With-” kiss, “Me.”
“Not when I have waited for you for so long,” he adds.
His fingers pressed into your flesh. He gets a hold of his length and pressed it to your slit. “Can I?” He asked you, he wanted your permission. He needs your ‘yes’ before he takes you as his forever.
“Of course, Coryo.”
He begins to push in his tip, his length slipping inside of you with ease. He gasps as he feels your warmth all over his cock. The feeling is so overwhelming that he has to stop midway to not cum right away. He squeezed the base of his dick before he continued to push inside of you again, slowly inch by inch. He breathes through his mouth, his eyes closed as pleasure fills every corner of his mind. You felt perfect.
“You feel so good,” he whines.
His cock twitched inside of your walls. He bites the inside of his mouth, trying to use pain to distract himself from the mind-blowing pleasure. Meanwhile, you clenched your pussy as if to see how much his cock had stretched you. The two of you gasped from the feeling.
“Fuc- ah!”
Coryo pulls out a few of his inches and begins to thrust in. You moan out, feeling pleasure in your veins and seeing stars in your eyes. Snow's hands were on either side of your head as he balanced himself above you. His dog tag dangles in front of your lips as his hips continue to move. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his cock even deeper into you. Coriolanus lets out a groan from the feeling.
“I won't be able to last long,” he admits, his cheeks getting red. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't help but feel ashamed about how heavy his balls were with cum ready to be released inside of you.
“You will,” you whispered your hand on his nape. You squeeze it. “You will last as long as I fucking want, Coriolanus,” you said to him, pulling him down to meet your lips. The kiss was messy and open-mouthed. Another hand of yours was on his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. You were marking him in your own way. With long, red scratches.
Coriolanus slows down, ready to please you however you want. You moan into his mouth and he eats the sound up. Coriolanus thrusts his hips faster, unable to truly control himself. How could he when you made him feel this good? He couldn't decide on the pace. He wanted this to last hours. He wanted to cum.
He kept switching between fast and slow until he found himself with his back on the floor. You are on top of him, your hands holding his hands above his head. “Be a good boy,” you said to him before you began to ride him.
You grind yourself against his cock, letting his cockhead kiss your spongy spot with each movement of your hips. Your arousal was coating your thighs and now it was on his skin as well. You were so wet and messy. Coriolanus loved it. You use one hand of yours to play with his balls. Coriolanus could feel his eyes rolling back.
“Don't- I-” he cries out in bliss when you squeeze his balls gently. You hush him with a kiss, your hips moving according to your will. You had set the perfect pace. It wasn't too much for either of you, letting the pleasure be prolonged.
He knew you were close with the way your push was contracting on his shaft. He knew you were close because your eyes were closed and fuck, you were cock drunk on him. He knew you were close because you had slowed down, and now rocking your hips back and forth. The hold you had on his hands had loosened. He breaks free without a fuss and places his hands on your hips.
He begins to push his hips up, fucking his cock into you. You whine, your eyes opening as you see him take control again. His teeth pulled at his lower lip, silencing his groans as he continues to fuck into you in this position. You use one of your hands to rub at your sensitive clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.
You tense, your pussy tightening around Coriolanus’ cock. Your only warning was the moan of his name as your cunt begins to spasm around his dick. Coriolanus lets out a deep groan, his lower lip bloody from how hard his teeth dug into the flesh. He fucks you throughout your orgasm.
“Get off,” he whines, “I can't cum inside of you.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Coriolanus doesn't realize he's coming inside of you until he feels like jelly. He had stuffed you full of his thick, hot cum without a warning. But you had already stated you didn't give a fuck. So he supposed it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had you now.
Forever.
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
Hours later, you and Coriolanus find yourself at the train station. Ready to go back to the Capitol, once and for all. Commander Hoff had personally come to escort you both.
Coriolanus was about to enter the train. You were already inside. But Commander Hoff stops him, “Son.” Coriolanus stills, waiting to hear what Hoff has to say.
“Don't let her go. You don't know what she had to keep you safe.”
Coriolanus looks Commander Hoff in the eyes and nods. “I won't,” he promises, knowing damn well he will keep it with his life. Coriolanus gets inside the train after saying goodbye. He stops before he opens the door to the cabin you were sitting in. He pulls up the sleeve of his shirt to look at his wrist. He grins as he sees the scar reverted to the number most important to you.
It was today's date.
Coriolanus slides the door and walks to his future.
Coriolanus walks to you.
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casualhedonists · 3 months
Text
✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter six)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, roughhousing, overstimulation, mild bondage, insane amounts of teasing, some mild dubcon scenes/allusions to dubcon, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, hair pulling, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, eventual piv (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
chapter: 6/6
SERIES MASTERLIST
words: .......13.5k
a/n: WHEW what a wait. thank you, as always, for your patience this past month or so! as i’ve mentioned i’ve been busy as hell, but it is with many internal screams that i can say! welcome to the final chapter of this series!! what a ride we've all had these last few months! buckle up for like. essay length extensive smut and also plot. in varying order. as always, feedback makes my world spin round at rocket speed, and just. thank you guys for all the love ever since i posted chapter one last november (november me with a brand new sideblog had no clue this would become a Thing i finished let alone a Thing people liked!! that's all on you lovely humans. ily)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
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Heaven was his head between your thighs.
His hands on you, everywhere. Hot mouth pressed to your skin, your neck, your thighs, your cunt. He was slow. Thorough. Pulling cries out of your mouth that got louder and louder until your back arched on the bed and you lay slumped and panting, twisted in his sheets. Taken apart and stitched right back together.
It hadn’t started like this. Not even close.
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You woke to a soft light on your face, the curtains parted slightly. Your throat felt sore, and you were tired. Body heavy, slumped across a bed. His. It came back to you in fragments. The party. The photograph. His hand in your hair. His eyes after, apologetic and pleading. Falling asleep right here, next to him, but there was nobody beside you anymore. Your eyes adjusted to the room; you’d never seen it at this time of day, with sunbeams lighting up the walls. You could hear a soft tapping sound, like rain on the windowsill, but it was a bright and sunny spring day out.
Typing. That’s what it was.
Steady, satisfying clicks as the typewriter punched ink onto paper. You turned your head towards the desk across the room.
Coriolanus was sat there, focused, a breakfast tray pushed to one side. He didn’t notice you for a while, and you rolled over to take him in, a slight squint in his eye as he concentrated. You pulled your tired body up and leaned against the pillows, and he turned.
“Morning.” He said in surprise.
“Hi.”
This was strange. Like a warped sense of a morning after.
“Coffee?” He offered. “It’s still hot, I think.”
“Please.”
As he stood to pour from the French press, you took a look around you, eyes landing on the nightstand. A glass of water stood tall next to the silver chain he’d given you last night.
So innocent. If someone took a peek through a crack in the wall, they’d think you were a perfectly normal couple. Domestic bliss.
Not so much, you thought, as he walked over and handed you a cup.
He didn’t linger, but sat down at the foot of the bed, and that only made things stranger. He’d never been one to shy away from physical proximity, but here you both were, sipping just-hot coffee as he eyed you carefully. Like you were an animal in an enclosure, and he hadn’t quite figured out which approach to take with you yet.
“Are you working on something?” You nodded toward the cluttered desk.
“Just the usual. Work.”
“Oh? Didn’t know you worked in here.”
“I don’t, usually. Never have, in fact.” He sounded sheepish. This was entirely new. “But I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
Oh.
You said just that.
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
“I can go if you’d like. Leave you to rest.”
“No, that’s okay. Stay.”
His eyes softened a little, shoulders sinking down.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
You considered. You hadn’t really thought much about it.
“Tired, I think. This is helping. Thank you.” You sipped at the cup of coffee, careful not to spill it on his sheets. An oddly comfortable silence hung in the air.
“I called Cordelia. She’s coming over this afternoon, we can figure it all out. Print a story you’re happy with.”
“Wait, what? We don’t have an appointment for three more weeks.”
He glanced awkwardly at the floor, and cleared his throat.
“I thought you’d want to make it as quick as possible. It will be, and it won’t shine badly on you. I’ll get Lucille to pack your things, and if you don’t want to go back to your parents, I’d be happy to put you up somewhere in the city for as long as you’d like. It’s the least I could do after everything that I-”
“Coriolanus, stop.” You shook your head, bewildered.
“Can I ask you a serious question?”
He paused.
“Of course.”
“How the hell are you meant to know what I want if you’ve never asked me?”
He frowned, eyes darting from the floor, to you, to the floor again.
“I… Well, I assumed that-”
“Don’t assume.” You interrupted. “God, when will you stop assuming you know what’s best for me? It’d be nice to feel like I have a say in this. Don’t you see that if we do this, we’ll just end up right back where we started? I don’t want that, do you?”
“Doll, I think this would be for the best.”
“Why, am I getting too difficult for you now? You got someone new lined up ready to take my place? Someone less complicated? More complacent?” You snapped.
“Of course not, it’s not that.”
“Then why? Why do you want me gone? Because it’s pretty damn clear that you do from where I’m sat.”
He sighed, turning to face you, but looking at your lap. You gripped the cup with a vice, like you were trying to snap off the handle. You placed it on the nightstand.
“I’ve just been wondering if this has become about something… else, to you. and I wanted to say that if that’s the case, this can’t continue. Because… well, I’ve grown fond of you, and it isn’t fair to keep you hoping.”
Your confusion softened your sharp edges.
“Hoping for what?”
For whatever reason, he didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.
“Hoping that… I can give you something I don’t think I’m capable of. Or at least, not anymore. It’s not fair on you. I can’t give you what you need.”
“And what exactly is it that I need?”
He shifted, looking awkwardly to the floor. At first, your frown only deepened, then it hit you. A knowing smile crept onto your face.
“Oh my god… you think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
His frown only widened your grin. you were pretty sure you must’ve looked insane. Despite yourself, you let out a laugh, and his frown only deepened.
“When you… you’ve been upset lately. The other week at the luncheon, and then last night, I thought it was-”
“That I was, what, in love with you?”
A cocky, shit eating grin now took over your face.
He started a sentence, but stopped himself. You could see it on his face; he was completely thrown.
“So you’re not.” He checked.
“Oh, don’t look so disappointed, Snow. ‘Course not. That’s never what this was about, I mean, we have rules for a reason. Sure, we’ve been breaking them like it’s our day job, but not the golden one. Never the most important.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked a little sheepish.
“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” you repeated, “I’m not in love with you.”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. His shoulders sank down, like he was relieved.
“I see. That’s good, that’s… for the best.”
“So will you cancel Cordelia?”
“Okay. If that’s what you want., it’s done.”
You nodded.
“See, this is better. It’s a lot easier when you ask me things. And I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t exactly been the most talkative either.”
“It’s not exactly our strong suit.” He agreed.
“Yeah. You know, while we’re on the topic, there’s something else you can do for me.”
“Anything.”
“You can run me a bath. A hot one. With bubbles.” You added.
It was slight, but you saw it. He perked up.
“Okay, doll.”
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The bath was hot, and it smelt like the softer parts of him, like fresh linen and the spice of his cologne. Again, he didn’t linger, just ran the bath, saw you into the room and let you be. It was frustrating – while it was nice to soak in the hot water and feel your muscles relax, you wished he would just talk to you, instead of acting like you were something to avoid, something to walk on eggshells around. This change in his demeanour wasn’t a completely unwelcome one – you didn’t mind feeling as though you had the upper hand, and held all the cards for once – but you didn’t like being treated like you were broken, either.
You sank your head underneath the bubbles and stayed down there for a few seconds, the rush of water clouding your eardrums. It was a peaceful kind of noise, and when you came back up for air, you found yourself breathing a little easier.
You pondered. Processed, considering the steps to take next, rolling your neck out and stretching your feet to the edge of the tub. Anytime you thought you’d reached any sort of plateau with Coriolanus, something new would pop up out of seemingly nowhere. You hadn’t minded the danger at first, it drew you in and kept you hungry for more, but you’d grown tired, weary from the whiplash knotting your neck.
When the water cooled, you looked around, but couldn’t see a towel. You cleared your throat.
“Snow?” You called out.
Soft footsteps. Then, his voice from behind the door.
“Everything okay?”
“I just need a towel. I can’t see one near me.”
“They’re in the linen closet in the corner.”
You eyed the floor between the tub and the closet.
“I’d have to get out and drip bathwater all across the floor. Can you just come in here and hand me one?”
Silence.
“Please?” You added.
More silence. Then he quietly cleared his throat.
“Yeah. Okay, fine. I’m coming in, I won’t look.”
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
The door cracked open and he made a short beeline to the closet, unfolding a towel and holding it out. When he walked to the side of the tub, he looked off to the side like the colour of the walls was suddenly the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
You pulled yourself out of the water, shivering as the cold air hit you. Then you backed into the towel and took it from him, wrapping it around yourself, sinking into the soft cotton. He stood behind you, paused, seemingly suspended in place and unable to move. You heard him draw in a breath, inches from the back of your neck.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. His breath caught on the droplets of water gathered on your skin, and it warmed you and gave you a chill at the same time.
“I know you are.”
Then in a flash, you spun around, lips on his, hungry. He kissed you back like he had something to prove, and hell, maybe he did. His hands tangled in your wet hair and yours made for his shirt. The towel slipped to the floor and fell in a pile at your feet. One button came open, you broke the second, which flew into the air and landed on the floor with a tap. He pulled you in closer, hands all over you, and you worked frantically at the third, not caring if it broke, not caring about anything.
“Doll.”
You looked up at him, at his blown-out eyes.
“Want you to fuck me.” You breathed.
“I can’t.”
You jolted to a stop, catching your breath. He took a step back.
“What?”
He pulled in slow breaths, like he was trying to cool himself off. His eyes pressed shut.
“Not like this. Not until I know you trust me again. I don’t… I can’t hurt you again. I won’t do that. I need you to forgive me first. Completely.”
You exhaled slowly, then cleared your throat, lowering to the ground to pick the damp towel off the tiles. When you came back up, half-covered, he was staring at a spot on the wall again, breath laboured.
You tied the towel around you, and looked right at him as he looked away, eyes averted.
“You sure about that, Snow?” you drawled. “You sure as hell don’t look it.”
He swallowed thickly.
“I’ll let you get dressed. I’ll just be in the bedroom.”
You brought your hand to your lips, brushing over where he’d just kissed them once he’d turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. You eyed your pile of clothes with disdain.
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He was back at his desk when you walked out, wrapped in a shirt he’d offered you, hair towel in hand. He didn’t look as focused on his work this time.
“I cancelled Cordelia. So don’t worry about that.”
“Thank you.” You made for the bed, and climbed back onto it. “Rather just talk to you anyway.”
His jaw tensed. It seemed he was still doing everything in his power not to look at you.
“You know, there’s this thing called eye contact. Remember that thing Cordelia waffles on about? It’s important when you’re having a conversation with somebody. I’m a big fan, myself.”
His eyes shot daggers at you. But at least he was looking.
“And what did you want to talk about, exactly?”
You shrugged, and he glanced back at the desk, and pretended to study one of the papers there.
“I don’t know. All of this, I guess.”
Much to your annoyance, he didn’t answer. Your eyes swept the room again, and you brought the towel to your hair. The sun was high enough now to light up the silver chain on the nightstand, and you took it in your palm, turning it over.
“Did you mean it when you said I could have this?” You wondered aloud.
He looked at you again.
“Wasn’t sure if you remembered that.”
“Well, I do.”
“Then I meant it.” His words shouldn’t have made you smile, but they did.
“Will you put this on me?” You asked.
“Uh. Sure.”
The chair creaked as he pushed it back from underneath him, and he walked over to you cautiously, perching on the bed, taking the dog tag, then ever so gently brushing your hair to one side.
“Can I just ask-”
“Anything.” He said quickly.
The cool metal slid onto your chest as he secured the chain, falling low.
“When you were out there, did you…” you swallowed.
Say it.
“…hurt people?” You praised your voice for not shaking. The silence in the room was deafening. But he finally answered.
“I did what was necessary.”
“It must’ve been awful.”
“Yeah.” He said quietly. “It was.”
“Do you think about it much?”
“More than I care to admit. But it was a long time ago.”
You turned to face him.
“Doesn’t make it less real. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how hard it must’ve been.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. What matters is that I’m here now.”
You smiled.
“You didn’t get too bad of a deal of it either, President Snow.”
He put your hair back into place, fingertips trailing your shoulder.
“I certainly didn’t.”
You thumbed the cold steel, an odd feeling of satisfaction washing over you.
“Was it worth it?” Your voice sounded quiet, even to you. You were fully aware of the weight of the question, heavier still from the complete understanding that you barely knew what you were asking.
“Yes.”
It should’ve scared you, the surety in his voice. But it didn’t.
Warm breath caressed your shoulder blade, and it really shouldn’t comfort you, but it did. You cleared your throat.
“Thank you. For putting it on. I always get these things tangled.”
“My pleasure. I meant what I said though, sweetheart. No wearing it where anyone’ll see, okay? I need you to promise me.”
You turned your head, shifted so you faced him. You suddenly realised just how close your faces were, and your voice dropped low.
“I promise. It’s nothing new. We’re no strangers to secrets, you and I.”
Your noses were almost touching, and he was looking down at your lips. You drew in a breath, and inched in impossibly closer. You felt his breath on your lips, hot and shallow. Your nose bumped his.
And then his lips were on yours again. But just as quickly, he pulled away.
“Don’t.” You pleaded.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t. Not until I’ve fixed this. Please, just… tell me what you need me to do. I’ll do whatever you want.”
You sighed, pulling away.
“This is what I want, Snow. But…”
“Yeah?”
“I just… never knew it would get so complicated. I think for now, maybe I need a little time.”
“Okay. We can do that.”
“I might go home over this weekend. Spend some time with my parents. No tricks, okay? No messengers, no word from you, the entire time. I’ll come back here on Monday morning, and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided then.”
He nodded.
“That’s fine.” He cleared his throat again. “So you’ll leave tomorrow morning?”
“If that’s okay.”
He seemed as satisfied as one would expect with that solution.
“Yes. Of course, anything you want.”
“Thank you, Coriolanus.”
If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked a little disappointed by the formality.
“And Snow?”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“Before I go, will you lie next to me for a little while?"
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It was oddly intimate, the way the day stretched on. He lay next to you for a while, and you sank into the sheets and eventually dozed off. When you woke, he was still there, quietly tapping at the typewriter and poring over paperwork. You spent the rest of the day in his room, in bed mostly, with food being brought up to you which you shared in mutual silence or casual conversation. Lucille packed your bags, and you spent the night in his bed, a little distance between you. But when you woke up, you had to slowly pull away your woven limbs.
Leaving was a quiet affair. Snow gave you a chaste kiss goodbye, and Henry snuck you and your bags through the back exit and kept to backroads, so nobody would know who you were or where you were going. Your parents didn’t know why you were visiting either; they didn’t need to. As far as anyone was concerned, you were taking a short weekend trip to check in with your family.
The two days passed quickly. You spent the time reflecting, debating what your next move would be, and listening to your parents argue. You found yourself glancing at the clock by Saturday afternoon, and by Sunday night you were practically crawling out your skin ready to leave. You considered what he’d offered you; an apartment on your own, somewhere in the city. But the thing is, you’d grown used to his moods, to just having him around, if only to dig your fingers into and pry open, searching for secrets. Life would feel awfully dull without it. You’d never met someone who was a match for you, who challenged you. You wondered if he felt the same.
Monday morning rolled around and you let out a heavy sigh of relief as you climbed into the car. Henry glanced back at you, but didn’t comment.
The second the manor came into sight, your head clouded with doubt. Would he want you to stick around? You’d spent the last couple of days toying with all outcomes like some omniscient god, but until now you hadn’t considered the fact that Snow might’ve done some thinking through of his own.
But as you pulled up at the side door, there he was. Standing perfectly poised, waiting for you, and all your worries washed away as he looked at you. Henry opened the door, and Coriolanus offered his hand as you stepped out the car. He looked at you with the same intensity as he had that very first night in his room, when you’d finally dropped the charade, and you returned the stare. Even just feeling his hand on yours set your skin on fire.
When you finally got inside and it was just the two of you, he stopped you.
He looked regal before, proud and superior. Now, you could tell it was a façade, laced with a nervous discomfort.
“Well?” He prompted.
You looked at him. Took in the way his eyes couldn’t stay in one place for too long, the tightness in his jaw that only appeared when he was under pressure, and the slight urgency seeping through his otherwise controlled question, and realised then that you hadn’t been the only one going a little insane these past few days.
And now, you had the upper hand again.
“Upstairs,” you answered. “Your room.”
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When the door closed behind you and he paced towards the desk, you almost smiled at the parallel. It felt like an age ago that you’d strutted in here, dressed in his suit jacket with something to prove. You knew the cards you were about to play now like you had then, but your thoughts still raced.
Snow cleared his throat.
“So? Have you made up your mind?”
You waited for him to turn and face you.
“I have.”
“And?” So quick to reply. You’d never heard him so on edge.
You wet your lips, taking a step towards him. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying stretching this out a little, watching him squirm.
“I’ve decided that… I’m staying.” You said finally.
He let out an audible breath, almost like he didn’t care about you hearing his reaction anymore. Like he’d been strung out the entire weekend, just like you. Like he’d imagined this conversation in a million different ways. He stepped towards you. This was an old dance; one you knew well. You closed the gap between you, and his hand grazed your jaw.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He said. You held his gaze, he brushed your lip with the pad of his thumb.
“Can I…” His voice dropped.
“Not just yet.”
You relished the little frown that knitted his brows.
“I know you, Snow.” You continued. “You’re good at what you do. You’re better at this than anyone out there. You’re dedicated, and I think that… something tells me you’re going to be President for an awfully long time. I want to be by your side when that happens. I’m not going away when this arrangement suits me too. But I have terms.”
He watched you as if he was mesmerised, and you wondered if he even noticed the way you slowly walked him towards the bed. You hid your smile as the spell broke, and the back of his legs bumped the ottoman. He gazed down at your lips, just a little thrown off kilter.
“Tell me.”
You got closer, lifting your hands to the lapels of his shirt and giving them a tug, turning him so you were stood against the ottoman and he was facing you. He moved so easily, as if this was a dance, one you’d practiced a hundred times over.
“Let’s start with this. You said you’d do anything for my forgiveness, right?”
“I meant it.”
“Good.” You nodded, “Because there is something you can do for me.” Your hand traced his jaw, and he leaned into it.
“Name it.” He whispered, lips pressing against your palm. “It’s yours.”
You leaned towards him, faces close, noses touching, foreheads pressed together. You could feel the almost on your lips, could feel his breath. You relished in the feeling, that electric tension between the two of you. You held onto it, inhaled it like smoke, before cutting it loose.
“Kneel.” You breathed.
Feeling his brows twitch gave you a rush, and when you pulled back, he looked like art. You slowly moved down, sitting on the ottoman, holding his gaze. Then slowly, steadily, like he was walking a gossamer-thin tightrope, he shifted, nudging your legs open to stand between them, and lowered himself down to the floor, knees gently knocking against the hardwood one at a time. You give him a slow nod.
“Like that. Good. Stay there.”
Your legs parted a little further, and his eyes lined up with the way your dress lifted, bunching at your hips, exposing black lace with white trim, barely covering the space he seemed to lean towards.
He wet his lips, glancing up at you. Eyes bright but laden with want, so heavy he thought he might drown in it.
“Can I…” He whispered, and you felt it more than heard it, his hot breath tickling your thighs.
You smiled a little, and shook your head.
“Fuck. Please, doll.”
“Did I ask you to beg?”
“No. But… what can I do?”
You pulled your lip between your teeth as you considered.
“You can take these off. Slowly.”
You sighed when his palms brushed your hips, pushing your dress up then hooking soft fingers into the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. He was gentle, pulling back but staying oh so close to you as he pulled the lace past your ankles, tossed it to the side, and moved in again expectantly.
“And now?”
You pushed your legs apart again, just enough. Drew in a breath.
“I want you to watch.”
A sound slipped from his mouth, and you weren’t sure if it was just a shaky breath or a quiet curse. His eyes darted between your face and the heat between your thighs. If you couldn’t already feel the mess you’d made, the way his lips parted and his eyes went heavy-lidded would give it away in an instant.
His gaze followed your hand, unwavering as you slowly brought it between your legs, and lazily trailed your fingers towards where you were aching to be touched. Then with a gasp, you brushed your finger against your clit and starting drawing slow circles, slipping further down to push against your opening, slipping through the mess you’d made just from seeing him knelt on the hardwood. 
You kept your head tilted back and your eyes closed, touching yourself with Snow knelt between your legs incredibly brazen, even for you. He was mere inches away, laboured breath dusting the skin of your inner thighs.
But as you melted into the feeling, sinking deeper than you could imagine in just a few short seconds, you opened them again. And there he was, darkened eyes fixed on where your fingers ran messy circles on your cunt, and you let out a soft whine. It was enough to make him redirect his stare to your face, and you couldn’t help but stare back, pressing harder against your clit with a broken sigh. You planted your feet on the floor as you shifted your hips a little, getting slightly closer, making it easier for you to carefully swirl a finger around your entrance, then gently push inside.
“Fuck.” He breathed, rocking forward slightly, to which you shook your head, knee pressing against his shoulder, pushing him back. His pleading eyes drove you on, pushed you to fuck yourself faster, obscene wet noises filling the quiet space.
He looked wrecked; lips parted, eyes begging, glancing up at you. And it only made you all the more shameless, bucking your hips and crying out, gasps slipping from your mouth that you couldn’t deny were getting played up a little for effect. He stared on, looking so fucking small between your legs, so hard you could only imagine it hurt.
You weren’t sure if he noticed he was breathing in tandem with you, but as your breaths picked up, got a little strained, so did his. His eyes slitted, heavy with lust as he stared on.
You got a little cocky; let it go to your head. Nothing would ever beat the rush of adrenaline you felt from seeing the most powerful man you’d ever known giving into you, letting you set the rules. It was intoxicating.
“You okay down there, sweetheart?”
He sighed, slow and heavy.
“I…” He trailed off, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Is there something you need?” Your voice was breathier than you would like, control slipping from your fingertips, but it was still there and the way he looked up at you. His mouth opened again, jaw agape, on his knees like it was a silent prayer. You fucked yourself faster, mean, dripping down your fingers. He finally spoke.
“Please.” He whispered.
“What did you say?”
“I said -” he swallowed “- I said please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me touch you. Put my mouth on you, I won’t even use my hands. Just let me… baby. Come on.” His voice was raspy and ruined.
“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet? I’m not so sure.”
His breath was shallow, eyes wide and blown out.
“I’ll prove it to you. Just let me touch you, and I’ll do anything you want. Please, doll.”
You hummed, pretending to weigh it up in your head.
“Well, since you’re asking so nicely. Go ahead. But keep your hands to yourself.”
“Thank you. Fuck. Thank you, baby.”
He listened, inching in cautiously, like he was expecting you to change your mind, then he pressed his mouth to you and there it was.
Heaven.
“Oh fuck.” Your breath hitched in your throat.
You hummed as he dragged his tongue over your folds, setting your nerves alight, instinctively rocking into the pressure you’d been thinking about since you got him on the floor. His hands, you noted, sat dutifully on his thighs, gripping onto them like it took a physical reminder for him not to reach out and grab your hips, push his fingers into your soft skin and own you.
As welcome as that sounded to your foggy mind, this was about proving a point. You were the one calling the shots here. So you rocked gently against his face as he kissed your clit, lapping at the heat between your legs, only pulling away at intervals to catch his breath, the daylight making the mess on his chin glisten, only to dive back in again, movements slightly limited by the lack of his hands, which you could see was bothering him.
You couldn’t help but tease him a little between gasps.
“I have to say I missed this. Seeing you underneath me.”
He looked up at you. But there was little defiance in his eyes, just want. Want so depraved that it sent a flush through you, making you feel a little unmoored.
“If I didn’t know better, Coryo, I’d say you were enjoying this.”
Face buried between your thighs, a broken whine sent a little shock through your core. You moaned, getting a little strung-out, a little breathy.
“Is that a yes?”
You felt him nod.
“Good. Glad to see you’re putting up less of a fight this time. It wasn’t so hard, now, was it? Giving in?”
This time, his eyes contained a little more fire. He pushed his tongue firmer against your clit, cutting off your question with a gasp. A few moments passed, and you heard him hum.
“Is there something you want to say, baby? Go ahead.”
He pulled back, catching his breath again.
“Still don’t want me to use my hands?”
You shook your head.
“Then can you… if it’ll feel better.” He glanced at your hand, resting lazily on your thigh.
“What?” You knew what he was getting at, but he shot you back a look as if to say, don’t make me say it.
“Don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Then say it.”
“Put your hand in my hair. You can… be rough, if you want to. I don’t mind.”
Your smile turned into a sly grin.
“You want me to pull your hair? You sure?”
“I’m sure. I don’t… I liked it, last time.” He confessed quietly.
“Liked what?” You pushed.
He took a steady breath, looking down at the velvet seat you were perched on. He gritted out the words steadily, pointedly.
“When you sat on my face. I liked it.”
You pressed your lips together to hide your smile.
“I know you did.”
He paused, looking down at the floor. Then he looked back up. You brought your hand to his hair, fingers running through the soft strands. He started peppering kisses along the insides of your thighs, something he’d been too desperate to consider when you’d first given him permission to taste you. Now, they sparked the fire even more, and as much as you liked the careful attention, you guided his head to where you needed it. Keeping his words in mind, you gave a slightly rough tug on his hair, and he responded with a pained hum that edged you closer.
At one point, you saw his hand shift to try towards his pants, but you yanked his hair in response.
“No touching yourself yet. Or I’ll only let you watch, okay?”
You built up a rhythm, growing careless with the tugs on his hair so that you felt pressure in all the right places. Your fingers pulled harder as you got close, and you could hear his shallow breath as you took what you wanted from him.
“Fuck. Coryo, I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that. You wanna make me cum?”
He nodded as best as he could with your hand gripping tight in his hair, and the motion only brought you closer, legs growing weak and tired, hooking over his shoulders now that you’d let him closer. You felt the ache build, almost painful with how long it had been, and you felt yourself snap, spinning out of control as your hand tensed, then fell from his hair. Then his hands were on you, gently this time, smoothing over your bucking hips with a level of control that you melted into as the feeling washed over you. He didn’t stop, pressing his tongue against you harder as you fell apart, shaking like a leaf as he worked your cunt until your cries bordered on screams.
“Fuck. Oh my god, that’s it, I’m…” You broke off into a shout, something so outlandish it sounded foreign to your own ringing ears, but you were too far gone to care. You could vaguely feel yourself grabbing at him as he pulled away, at his hair, his hands, anything, as you slumped back onto the bed. Slowly, he propped himself up, placing a knee between your legs and leaning over you. And his eyes, heavy and wanting, had you aching all over again.
He held back a little, clearly still in the space you’d pushed him into.
“Can I…” He whispered, those desperate eyes fixed on your parted lips as you caught your breath.
“Yeah.” You gasped, and he lowered his head towards you.
This time, he kissed you softer. Still hungry, still wanting, but slow, methodical, like he wanted to relish it. Almost like he wasn’t trying to own you, but in that moment, you could almost go so far as to believe the contrary. And your head swam with pride, feeling his lips on yours as he gently pressed you into the soft mattress.
But you didn’t sit in the feeling for too long.
“Was that okay?” He gasped.
“Yeah. More than okay. But you used your hands at the end there, baby. You know what that means?”
His eyes narrowed as his head cleared a little.
“Lie on your back for me.”
He obliged, dropping onto the mattress and shuffling up to lean against the pillows.
“I missed you, you know.” You murmured as you followed suit, hovering over him to get another kiss.
“I missed you too, sweetheart. Thought I was gonna go out of my fucking mind with how much.”
“Yeah?” You smiled.
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”
“I hoped not. Glad I was right.”
You smiled again, and shifted closer towards him.
“I could always show you how much I missed you, if you wanted.” Your eyes darted down to the front of his pants, the outline of his hard cock pressing against the material. He went a little quiet again, nodding a little, and you grinned. Climbed onto your knees so you were just a little above him, then swung a leg over one of his to sit carefully on his thigh. You paused for a beat.
“I won’t touch you until you tell me to, baby.”
He sucked in a breath.
“You can touch me.”
You tutted.
“What do we say?”
“Please.” He added quickly.
Without a word, you leaned in, brushing a hand over his cock, starting gentle, but quickly adding pressure. You could tell he was holding back, jaw clenched and eyes fluttering as he tried to control his breath.
“Not getting shy on me again, are you?”
He didn’t answer, just met your eye and you took it as a challenge. Unbuttoned his slacks and with a glance and a nod, slid them down his legs. You licked your palm slow, making sure he was watching closely.
“Fuck.” He breathed.
“Well, if you’re not gonna talk to me properly, I’m just gonna have to work harder then, aren’t I?” You drawled as you slipped your hand underneath his boxers. There was a soft thump as his head dropped back onto the headboard and he cursed as your fingers grabbed the base of his cock.
“Like that?” Your mouth pulled into a sly smile.
He hummed, breaking off into a sigh, lips parted and eyes towards the ceiling as you fisted his cock. I’ll take that as a yes.
You swirled your thumb around the head of his cock, gathering messy precum that had gathered at the tip from your teasing, and it hit you then that most of your interactions until now had been psychological, toying with words, with ideas and almosts. You knew by now what made him tick, which words you could use to push him to the edge, but you’d barely had the chance to touch each other. But you were a fast learner, and you knew what you wanted from this.
You wanted to make him fall apart.
So you picked up the pace, and it must’ve ached with how fast you were fucking his cock with your fist, but his determination not to lose his cool made it all the more exciting. It got wet, and that was one thing his composure couldn’t hide. It egged you on, shifting your own hips on his tensing thigh as your sore cunt pressed against the muscle.
“You can hold back all you like, but I can tell you’re fucking close.”
His eyes fell shut in a lust-clouded haze, breath picking up. His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned. You were tempted to take it down your throat, really see how he held up then, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet, and you were on a high learning just how to make his body respond to your touch, how to make him weak. So you worked your wrist and felt his legs jolt a little, and you knew it was a matter of seconds.
“If you want to cum, you’ll have to ask nicely. I don’t know how generous I’m feeling just yet. Convince me.”
“Jesus.” He gasped.
“No, just me. Go on, baby. Beg me. You wanted to earlier, right? Now’s your chance.”
An honest-to-god whine left his mouth, voice cracked and completely fucking ruined. You slowed your motions.
“No, baby, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close, please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me cum. I fucking need it, I did everything you said, I got on my knees, I fucking… fuck, I did what you told me, didn’t I? Everything you asked? And I didn’t touch myself, I haven’t… fuck. All weekend, I haven’t-”
You pressed your lips together.
“Poor thing. You’ve gone this whole weekend without cumming?”
“I was a little fucking preoccupied.” He gritted out.
“Over little old me? You shouldn’t have.”
“Please,” he repeated, “I need to cum. I did what you wanted, doll, I- shit-”
Satisfied, you picked the pace up again, obscene wet sounds filling the room as his hips rocked a little into your hand as he got close again. Too far gone now to hold back, his face contorted in pleasure, eyes fixed on you. Then, in a seemingly small motion as you leaned into him a little, the dog tag that had been sitting tucked under your dress - and had stayed hidden against your skin all weekend - slipped out, the pendant swinging into the air beneath you, and as Coriolanus caught sight of it, you felt his hips tense, then his cock was twitching and spilling into your hand.
“Shit, that’s so… oh my fucking god, doll.”
You pulled your hand from his boxers and brought it to your mouth, cleaning it off a little.
“You really did need that, huh?” You smirked, and he sighed.
“Yeah. I really fucking did.”
You nodded at his boxers.
“Can I take these off now?”
He pressed his head into the headboard again and nodded, so you carefully pulled them down his legs. Panting and overheated, he unbuttoned his shirt as you threw the fabric to the floor.  What he didn’t expect you to do, though, was put your hand back on his still-twitching cock that sat tired and used against his stomach. He flinched a little as you palmed it, and you looked at him mischievously. Started to move your hand again, slow and steady, but firm.
“That’s… baby. Stop, I already came, I… fuck.” He winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”
You chuckled, voice turning a little dangerous.
“Oh, you thought we were done?”
“Doll, that’s not – shit – that’s not fucking funny. It’s sensitive, I…” It turned into an uncomfortable hum, but you felt him twitch under your palm, slowly getting hard again. His leg gave a little involuntary kick, much to your satisfaction.
“I… what the fuck.” His voice went quiet and strained, and yours got menacing.
“Oh, you can take it, can’t you? Thought you said you liked me taking the lead a little. You can handle it, can’t you, Snow? Or do you want me to stop?”
“Mm. That’s… was different. Please.” You kept going, a rush washing over you as you wondered if he even knew what he was begging for. You got more daring, rubbing your palm over the tip, and grinned when he cried out.
“You want me to stop? Just say the word. I will.”
He was half-hard again, more cum leaking from his tip as you sped up just a little.
Eyes squeezed shut, he shook his head frantically as the rest of him trembled.
“Didn’t think so.”
His face was twisted like he was holding on desperately, trying to maintain control as you relished in his permission, and palmed him harder.
“Jesus fuck.” He said, voice getting louder now, legs twitching and hips bucking up in little jolts you were certain he couldn’t stop if he tried. You had him now, pliable like clay between your fingertips, shaking apart.
“Is that too much for you?” You taunted, getting cocky now.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snapped, but it fell flat when his voice broke halfway through the question. You laughed.
“I know exactly who I am, Snow. I’m the girl you’re gonna be stuck with for a long time, and I’ve got some demands to make. So listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once. You know what happened last week?” You were aware you were starting to sound almost as insane as him, but you didn’t care.
“You don’t ever,” you spat, “do that to me again. If you do, I swear on all of Panem, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”
He whined, desperate, so far gone you weren’t sure he was fully listening.
“Say you fucking understand.”
“I… I understand. Fuck. Please. I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so fucking sorry-”
“You’re lucky I’m giving you another chance. From here on out, you only get to treat me like a whore when I tell you to. Okay?”
“Yes. Yes, okay. I understand. I’m… shit.”
“This is a partnership, starting now. We help each other. We trust each other. We talk to each other. We don’t go behind each other’s backs, or fuck around with other people. Okay?”
“Okay. That’s… doll, can you slow down just a little? You’re… I’m…”
“You’re gonna cum again?”
He nodded, chasing his breath. You leaned towards him, lowering your head to his chest and dragging your tongue against his collarbone.
“Good. You can cum again, Coryo.”
“Thank you. Thank you - fuck. That feels… I’m-”
“You gonna cum all over my hand again, baby? Do it, I’ve got you. You can cum now.”
The second time he came was with a pained cry, painting your hand until it dripped down your wrist and onto his stomach. When you finally released your grip, he slumped down and sighed, aftershocks still jolting through him.
“You heard what I said, didn’t you?”
“I did. And I understand.”
“Good.” You murmured into his ear, and you felt goosebumps rise on his torso, “Then I think we can come to an agreement.”
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The week went by in a blur of whispered words and tangled limbs. He rarely left you alone, and you barely felt the time pass, every waking moment spent together, flesh on flesh. When he worked, it was at the small desk in his room, and he took plenty of breaks to lounge in bed with you or run you baths.
You learned each other’s tells, growing comfortable touching each other, but Snow stuck to his word, much to your annoyance.
Not until you trust me again, he’d said. Wasn’t it clear enough by you staying?
You’d all but moved into his room, sending Lucille back and forth with hampers for your clothes, which now hang in one side of his closet, or sat folded in his previously empty drawers. You felt closer to him than you ever had before, and the two of you had skin littered with bruises which made you grateful you didn’t have any public functions to attend for quite a while. He’d stopped leaving you to go into the city and work, instead managing people from afar, and letting them get on with their jobs so he could weed out the weakest links.
For the first time, it felt a little like he was yours. Or as much yours as he possibly could be. And as you spent more time together, not just half-dressed and desperate, but talking, really talking, you slowly started to feel like you could be his, too.
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“Tell me it feels better than he did. When you were together.” He whispered one morning, when you’d not long woken up and he’d immediately ducked under the covers to get between your thighs. He paused, fingers inside you, looking at you intently, and at first you were confused as to what he meant. You heard the tinge of vulnerability in his voice, and took the cue.
“You really think you deserve that? After everything?”
“No.” He whispered, eyes dropping down again.
“So what do we say?”
“Please.”
“One more time for me.”
He spoke up, voice gorgeously wrecked.
“Please. Tell me it’s better.”
“That’s good. And since you’re being good, I’ll tell you. He didn’t…” you swallowed, catching yourself, “He didn’t really like doing that. what you’re doing.” Your facade cracked a little and you glanced off to the side, not sure what reaction you were expecting.
“Really?” His voice was dumbfounded. It made you laugh.
“You know, Snow, a lot of guys don’t. They’re lazy about it. Want to get it over with, get to the real thing.”
A wide smile pulled at his lips, wolfish.
“Who wouldn’t want to do this?”
“Easy for you to say, handsome.”
He grinned wider.
“Can I try something?”
“I don’t know. will I like it?”
“I think we both will.”
Your voice dropped to a whisper.
“Okay, Coryo.”
His smile only deepened, pulling into an excited smirk as he gripped your hips once more, lightly kissing your thighs as he got closer to where you wanted him.
You gasped as his tongue worked you, and when you came, he kept going, easing up only after you’d fallen apart more times than you could keep count.
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“Can’t believe you still won’t fuck me.” You pouted one day, as he sat at the desk with a pen in hand, scratching against paper.
He turned around to face you.
“I told you why. Not until-”
“I trust you again, I know. But how do you know that? I could trust you just fine and you wouldn’t even know it.”
“I’ll know.”
You hummed.
“Or,” you started, slipping off the bed and pacing towards him, “you could just fuck me now and call it square.”
He chuckled.
“Nice try, sweetheart.”
You pulled a lip between your teeth as you stood next to him, and he moved his chair out towards you. You smoothed a hand over his dress shirt, and grabbed a hold of his tie. Then you hooked a leg over both of his and lowered yourself onto his lap, face right next to his. You’d grown comfortable with being close to him, and while it still felt electric, you could handle it better. You rocked your hips on his as you got comfortable.
“Feel familiar?”
He hummed in response.
“I’m getting flashbacks.”
You smirked.
“Can I take this off?” You tugged at his shirt.
“Only if you play nice. No acting up, okay?”
“If you say so.” You shrugged, making quick work of the tie and buttons. Once the shirt was off, your lips were all over him, trailing over his chest and neck, tongue tracing lines across his collarbones.
“You don’t have to be anywhere for the next week, do you?” You murmured into his ear.
“No.” His breath hitched a little.
“Good.”
With that, you closed your lips around his pulse, and sucked.
While you littered his whole torso with bruises, and your neck was given a few of its own, you started rocking your hips lazily against him, playing coy like you didn’t know what you were doing, like you couldn’t feel him rock hard between your legs.
“Now this really is taking me back.” His voice strained when he spoke.
You only hummed in response, lace panties bunching in an all-too-familiar way. But you didn’t work your hips like you had something to prove this time, you went slower, taking your time, but staying deliberate in your movements. Your lips met his, breaking away only to breathe, then again when you felt his hips roll a little and his breath get laboured.
You rocked your hips harder, nice and firm. You could feel his cock twitch through his pants, right up against the wet spot forming on your panties. The friction had you shaking.
“Feel good?” You breathed.
“Yeah. Feels real fucking good, sweetheart.”
You smiled as your head lolled back, gasping loud to make sure he really heard it.
“You know what would feel even better, though?”
He mumbled something back but you didn’t catch it, lost in the haze.
“Think it’d feel better if you were fucking me for real right now.”
You didn’t expect the broken moan that escaped him, hands gripping your hips hard. Like the thought of it was enough to make him shatter.
“Baby,” he warned, “don’t.”
“But it would be so easy.” You pressed, “pushing my panties to the side and fucking into me right now.”
“Doll-”
“I know you want to.” you whispered against his ear.
“Do you now?” His strained voice told you everything you needed to know.
You nodded. “Mhm. I know you do. I also know that it’s driving you crazy, having me this close, but not able to take what you want. You must be going out of your mind, you know how I know?”
“How?”
“Because I am too. I’m tired of this rule, Snow. Let’s just forget about it, and fuck me already.”
“Get up.” He said firmly. You started.
“What?”
“You heard me. I said get up, sweetheart.”
You climbed off his lap and stood, cautiously, legs shaking from how close you’d gotten. He did the same, towering over you a little as you failed to hide the smile on your face.
“Get on the bed.”
You took in a breath, shaky with nerves.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
You sat back on the bed, peering over the mattress as he ducked down to pick up something from the floor.
“What are you-”
“Eyes closed.”
“Okay.” You shut your eyes, then felt him get close to you, his lips meeting yours as he knelt in front you, mattress dipping as he shifted. His hands brushed your arms, slowly pushing them behind your back as you melted into him, and before you could open your eyes, you felt the smooth silk of his tie wrap around your wrists and pull.
“What-”
“You want to act up, doll? Fine. Let’s see how many times I can make you cum all over my fingers before you’re begging me to stop.”
His hand slipped between your legs, pushing your lace panties to the side and pressing a finger into your wet cunt as you cried out. Your eyes pleaded at him, desperate.
“But why can’t you-”
“I said,” he repeated, pressing his finger into the spot that make you see stars, “not. Fucking. Yet.”
He spent hours fingering you open, making you cum until you cried. Then he cleaned up your tears and kissed like you were his whole world as you fell into an exhausted sleep, his words floating around in your head.
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The black box was tied with a crisp white ribbon, and sat waiting for you on your bed. You approached it with caution, thumbing the piece of card on top of it. It was a note written in ink.
Wear this tonight. Think you’ll suit it well.
-       C.S
You’d gone into your room to collect something of yours to take to Snow’s room. You rarely went into your room anymore, most of your things had found their place in his, much to your satisfaction.
It was the first day in about two weeks that Coriolanus had finally had to leave the house to go into the city, but he’d promised it would just be for the day. It was also the first gala you had to attend since you’d made your decision, which you were slightly nervous for, but mostly excited to get out of the house, because although the sacred oasis that his room had become, it would be nice to have a change of scenery.
And that brought you back to the beautifully wrapped box lay in front of you. You were buzzing. You turned the note over in your hands, pulling it to your face to breathe it in. It smelt like newly printed books, and something distinctly him.
You recognised the label on the box, it was one of your favorite designers. You pushed the lid away to reveal the most beautiful dress you’d ever laid your eyes on – and you’d seen some impressive pieces.
It was a dark crimson red with gold embroidery, soft as silk. You unfolded it gently, letting the fabric spill out towards the floor. It was a little more revealing than anything you currently owned, with a deep slit up the leg and a plunging neckline, waist cinched, but the rest of the dress was floor length. A smile crept onto your face.
After counting down the hours, it was finally time to make your way downstairs. Snow stood in a full suit, waiting at the bottom of the staircase.
“You look beautiful.” He remarked.
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” You smiled in response.
You met at the foot of the stairs, and he took your hand in his.
“Thank you for the dress. It’s gorgeous.” You added, not sure why you were lowering your voice in your own lobby.
“I knew it would suit you. Now you’re almost ready to go.”
“Almost?” You frowned, not sure what you could possibly be missing.
Coriolanus lifted his hand to pull the white rose from his breast pocket. He examined it, then lifted it to your hair and tucked it gently behind your ear. Your lips parted in surprise, and your hand reached up to meet his.
“But it’s your signature. I couldn’t-”
“I know. But people won’t be looking at me tonight. They’ll be looking at you. And this way, when they do, each and every one of them will know that you’re mine.”
That knowing smile crept back onto your face, and you leaned in to press your lips to his.
When you pulled away, you thumbed his tie, realising the color matched your dress exactly.
“I’m sensing a similar theme here.”
“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been seen out in public. It’ll be good to show up like this, show a strong front, not leave any doubters.”
You hummed.
“And when we get home?”
His stare drew you in; you could get lost in it and never find your way out.
“That depends.”
Your gaze lowered to his lips, then back up again.
“Missed you today.” You said.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“You promise?”
He smiled.
“I promise, sweetheart.”
“Snow?”
He hummed in response. Your hand felt like it could melt into his, thumb brushing your palm.
“What would you say if I told you that I trust you now?”
His hand stilled. His eyes bored into yours.
“I’d say… that I believe you.”
You held your breath in, letting the anticipation wash over you.
“Later?” You whispered, and he nodded.
“Later.”
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The ball was one of the most extravagant you’d seen, large chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fountains of champagne dotted around. The health minister had outdone himself, and when you said so to Snow, he muttered a comment about him spending more time planning parties than doing his real job. But he smiled to all the right people, and his hand in yours calmed your nerves as a large procession saw you into the ballroom.
You danced until your feet turned numb, spinning on the ballroom floor, every time Coriolanus put his hands on your waist or wrapped his hand around yours drawing you in further, bringing you closer to forgetting everyone was watching you when his eyes were on yours, each stare becoming some secret language you were now terribly well-versed in. He didn’t let himself get distracted this time, quickly gravitating back to you any time he got pulled away into a conversation, and you basked in the attention, the two of you flirting to high heaven. When you’d spun until you were dizzy, he went to get you a drink, and you stepped off the floor of twirling couples.
It was then that you saw your mother, standing anxiously to one side, the stem of a champagne glass pressed between her fingers. Your parents rarely made it to these functions, but apparently, they had made time for this one. Suddenly aware of your frown and not wanting to arise suspicion, you plastered on a false smile and swanned through the crowd in her direction.
“Oh, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Of course I am, mother, I wouldn’t miss it. Is everything alright?”
She glanced around the two of you nervously, fiddling with her glass. You touched her shoulder and gently guided her further into the corner of the room. You rarely saw her this distressed, usually the picture of grace and poise.
“What’s wrong?” You pressed.
“Have you heard from Nathaniel?”
Your brows furrowed.
“Nathaniel Greene? Not in a long time.” You figured the little stunt of yours from the month before should go unmentioned.
“I heard from his parents the other day. They’re completely distraught.”
“Why? What on earth happened?”
For a second, echoes of threats that had long settled to the ground popped back into the forefront of your mind, and you swallowed thickly. You sat down in two small chairs at the side of the room.
“They can’t begin to understand why. Perhaps it was work, perhaps he was gambling, or in debt, but nothing could possibly explain such a cruel fate.”
“Mother, tell me what happened. Is he…”
Her hands shook, and you took the glass of champagne from her and placed it on a nearby tray.
“He’s not dead, my darling. It’s worse. A messenger came to his house late the other night. They asked him to pack a bag, and they took him away. To… I can barely say it.”
“Mother,” you gritted, “tell me.”
“A peacekeeper, of all things.” Horror filled her voice. “They sent him away to the districts, for the next twenty years. But what could he have done? I can barely understand it. Can you imagine? A young man of his standing, wasting away in that place? His family is ruined.”
Right then, the crowd around you parted in a way that could only announce the presence of one person.
“Sweetheart, is everything okay?”
You lifted your head to meet cool blue eyes and a slightly suspicious stare. From where you sat, Snow towered over you both, drink in hand.
“Everything’s fine.” You replied, “my mother isn’t feeling too well. Do you think we could find my father and have him take her home?”
He nodded at an Avox nearby who stepped dutifully away without missing a beat, and a server offered your mother a tray with a glass of water on it. You stood and faced Coriolanus, conscious of the now very interested crowd, and nodded to the large double doors that stood to your right.
“A word?”
He followed you in cautiously.
“I just heard something interesting.” You started.
He stood up straight, setting his jaw when you finally turned to face him. Even though you were barely alone, just a closed door between you and hundreds of people, it felt electric to be standing so close to him again with nobody watching you.
“What’s that?”
Playing it safe. An interesting move.
“Oh, just some rumor about an old friend of ours.”
“Who would that be?”
You smiled.
“I thought it was funny you asked about him the other day. Were you worried if I left you I’d go back to him?”
“Not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t play coy, Coriolanus.” You drawled. “You sent Nathaniel off to be a peacekeeper so I couldn’t go back to him.”
His stony façade fell through a little.
“And if I did?”
The deep frown you’d plastered onto your face for your mother’s benefit fell away, and your lips curved into a smirk.
“I’d say... well played.”
He blinked.
“You’re not upset?”
“Over him? Barely.”
“You’re - ” Snow paused, “so you’re not angry that I sent him away? The districts are hell, you know.”
“I’m sure. I don’t care, Snow. If anything, I’m impressed.”
“Why?”
You shrugged.
“He had it coming. He slept with my closest friend a week after we ended things. He never knew I found out. I’ve just been waiting, really, for him to get what he deserves. I doubted you’d let him off without a warning. There I was thinking you’d lost your touch for a while.”
You wanted to bottle the feeling you got from his eyes burning into you, with something that tasted like admiration.
“I nearly did let him off, for your sake.” He confessed. “But... if that's the case, I'm glad I changed my mind."
“So am I. It was that weekend I left, wasn’t it?”
“Damage control." He said tightly, "You can’t blame me.”
“Thought so. Good work, Snow.” You stepped towards him and revelled in the apprehension on his face with a smirk. “It’s a shame for his family, but they were never particularly nice. Collateral, I suppose.”
“You really don’t care at all?”
“Does it look like I care?”
“No.”
“I think you can read me as well as the next person. So I don’t care. Is that so tragic?”
He shook his head, bewildered. A strange smile appeared on his face.
“No, that’s… that’s good.”
You smirked as a thought popped into your head.
“How long do you think he’ll last out there?”
“Who knows? I hope you’re not banking on him ever coming back.”
You fiddled with his tie, smoothing it down.
“Never. We can’t all be Coriolanus Snow, can we?”
“Certainly not.”
You stepped even closer, and his back bumped softly against the wall. His gaze fell to your lips. You'd painted them a red so deep it was almost black, matching the dress.
"You like the color?" You asked.
"Yeah. Reminds me of when you kissed me in front of everyone and I couldn't get it off."
You laughed.
"Well, it was one way of getting your attention."
"It drove me fucking crazy, you know. It's all I thought about when I jerked off for weeks."
Fuck. Your eyes went a little heavy, laden with want.
“I hope this hasn’t changed our plans tonight.” You murmured.
“Has it changed them for you?”
You shook your head quickly.
“No. You?”
“Of course not.” He brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face.
“Good. Because now he’s out of our way, I’m tired of this party. I want to go home."
His eyes darkened a little and he drew in a breath.
“I’ll go say my goodbyes.”
With one of his hands on the doorknob, you stopped him.
“Snow?”
“Yes?”
“I don't want you to be nice. Later, I mean.”
If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was just a few squeezes shy of breaking off the doorknob.
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Your body slammed against his bedroom door with a force. His hands travelled under your clothes; wanting, needing to touch. You sighed and gasped at the feeling, his cold hands on your skin shooting chills through you, tugging off your clothes, kissing your neck, taking all that he wanted but still desperate for more. The rose had long fallen from your hair and lay, forgotten, on the hardwood. He kissed you with purpose, like he was once again trying to prove that he owned you, all the while understanding that he couldn’t. Maybe that’s what pushed him to touch you, to kiss you like it was the last time, like he was scared you’d float away somehow, even though you both know that wouldn’t really happen.
You understood it, because you felt the same way about him.  
You revelled in it, in the way his hands wrapped around your back, lowered to your legs, and lifted you up to push you harder against the door. His lips travelled across every square inch of bare skin he could find, your dress pushed down to your waist, lace bra exposed.
“Take it off.” He whispered, and you arched your back, reaching for the clasp and unhooking it with lightning speed. The lights were dim in his room, casting shadows that danced as the two of you moved together. Your head fell back against the solid wood as Coriolanus licked a trail up your neck. It was depraved, more passionate than anything you’d felt before. You could hardly think, blood pumping through your veins faster than you could stand. The only thing louder than the rush of blood in your ears was the sound of your breath mixing, hot and heavy as you took, impatient and without apology.
You cried out as his hips pressed harder into yours, and you could feel his length pressing up against you for the hundredth time. Except this time, you could finally let yourself imagine him inside you and trust that he wouldn’t turn this into another round of the game you’d thought endless. You squeezed your legs around his hips.
“Bed.” You gasped, and he grinned, wolfish and thrilled. You were the luckiest girl in Panem, to get to see him look at you that way.
“Been waiting to get this dress off you since I had it made.”
“Don’t tear it. Be gentle.”
“With you, or the dress?”
You narrowed your eyes as he carried you to the bed and placed you down on the mattress.
“Thought I told you that already.”
He was careful with the dress, slipping it over your hips and draping it over the back of the desk chair. When he came back, you were propped up on your elbows, legs bent at the knee, stare unwavering, panties the only thing left to take off. He was still wearing too much, shirt messily undone, pants still fastened but barely concealing the tent beneath them.
“You sure about this?” He checked.
“That a trick question?”
“Doll.”
You laughed. 
“Yes, I’m sure. Take off your shirt, handsome.”
He pulled off the white shirt methodically, and you shifted onto your knees to pull off his belt and toss it to the floor, eager to speed things along. You took in his toned chest and let your gaze sink down to his boxers, where his cock stood painfully hard beneath the material.
“Can I…” You prompted.
“Fuck. Yes. Please.” He sighed as your nails trailed up the bare skin of his thigh and brushed softly over his cock.
You smiled at the addition and took one last glance at his face, anticipation clear on his features that morphed a little in the near-darkness. Then, you pulled the material down his legs and his cock sprung free, and you forgot that you’d done this before, that you were used to this, to him, to being with him in almost every sense. It all slipped away, and as your hand reached to touch him with nothing between the two of you, it felt like the first time you’d ever done it. The breath he sucked in as you started to push the precum around his tip urged you on, making you brazen, and you readjusted your knees on the bed and got closer, then licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip.
“Oh my – fuck.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face, grateful for the darkness.
“That okay?”
He laughed, something dark and untethered.
“You fucking know it is. Such a fucking tease.”
“Wouldn’t be such a tease if we’d done this sooner.”
“Somehow I doubt that, sweetheart – ah.”
He was cut off by you taking the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucking hard as you gripped the base. You pumped your hand a few times and revelled in the sounds he made, choked out grunts and broken sighs, mixed with the occasional curse or a cry of your name.
You felt his hand gently brush against your hair, ever so cautious.
“Can I…”
“Mhm.” You hummed in the affirmative, and he sighed, all low and shaky as he pushed his fingers through your locks, not guiding, just careful pressure on your scalp as he let you take the lead.
“Baby,” he gritted out, “I don’t know how much longer I can… fuck, that’s-”
He sucked in a sharp breath as you stopped, pulling off, lips swollen. You looked up at him, stunned as he caught his breath.
“Coriolanus?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we turn a light on? I can’t… I want to see you.”
In the shadows, you could just make out the glint of his eyes and a dumbfounded smile.
“Of course.”
He stepped away, kicking off his boxers, and you watched him reach over the desk to switch on a small lamp. It lit up his face and you took him in, a thin cast of sweat shimmering across his face and chest. When he turned, you glanced away like you hadn’t been staring. He caught on with a grin.
“Like what you see?”
Such a dick.
“I’d like it better if you were over here.” You mumbled as he paced back towards you.
“You’re the one who wanted the light on, sweetheart. Now I know why.”
“Shut up and kiss me, Snow.”
“Coryo.” His breath danced against your lips as he closed in, lips sealing against yours as he pushed you back on the bed.
“Coryo.” You repeated with a smile when he pulled away kissing down your neck and chest, feeling the shape of the name in your mouth.
Then his hands were on you again as if they’d never left. More heat pooled between your legs as he trailed his hands down your thighs, and you let your head fall back as his fingers pressed through the seam of your panties.
His breath got shaky again as his fingers pushed the scrap of wet fabric to the side. You gasped as his thumb went straight to your clit, determined, rubbing tight circles against the hard nub.
“Oh my god, Coryo, I-”
“So fucking wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?”
It was too much all at once. You pressed your lips together tightly and nodded. Beside yourself, your left hand pressed against your mouth to muffle your moans.
Then he fucking stopped. Your hand fell from your mouth, and you felt the lace get pulled down your legs.
“What are you…” You trailed off. The dim light let you make out his face and you could see his expression now, wanting, but careful, methodical.
“Open your mouth.”
When your lips parted, a little in response, but moreso in surprise, the two fingers he’d been using on your clit slipped into your mouth, pulling your jaw open as his other hand propped him up. You could taste yourself, hot and heavy, spilling onto your tongue.
“I want to hear you, baby. You can’t cover your mouth like that if I’m gonna hear you.”
You nodded, brain a little dead.
“Good girl. Now I don’t have a free hand, know what that means?”
You cried out a little, tongue trapped beneath his fingers.
“Touch yourself, doll. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you nice and fucking close, okay?”
A little self-aware with him hovering right above you, you snaked a hand between your legs, but when you saw the look on his face you stopped wasting time, pushing two fingers inside yourself, heel of your hand bumping your clit as a whine slipped past your lips.
He kept talking, whispering hot and heavy into your ear, dragging his lips over your neck, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, every touch burning your skin like it was molten. When you’d lost yourself enough, mouth still parted; his fingers gentler now he’d made his point, he ducked his head lower, trailing his lips over your tits, placed his mouth over your nipple and sucked. Your moans got louder, feeling like every inch of skin he covered was hardwired to your cunt, your fingers getting tired and sloppy as you got yourself closer, dripping down your thighs.
You made a sound and he glanced up at you, pulling his fingers from your mouth.
“Just fuck me. Please, I can’t wait anymore, Coryo.” You whined, trying desperately to slow down your breathing.
“Poor baby. Couldn’t make yourself cum first?”
You shook your head, any more and you were sure your eyes would start to water.
“That’s okay, doll. I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.”
He lowered himself down towards you, arms either side of yours, crowding you in. Then his hands travelled down, lower, and your eyes rolled back, mouth agape as you felt his cock press against your entrance.
“Fuck.” You whispered, and he was strangely quiet. You blinked, and looked down at him, and you’d never seen such a pained look on his face. His lips parted, eyes heavy and slitted as he looked down at where his cock rubbed up and down like he was in a trance, slowly nudging your clit and getting himself wetter, tip glistening in the dim light.
Desperate for friction, you started rocking your hips, aching for him to push inside of you.
“Not just yet.” He breathed, voice strung-out and insane. “I won’t make you wait much longer, baby.”
“Please. I need you to fuck me. Don’t make me fucking beg.”
Usually, you’d see a sly smile appear on his face, but he just pressed his eyes closed as if the thought was going to send him over the edge. It was the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. Then, finally, you felt his cock catch at your entrance, and slowly press inside. You gasped at the pressure, at the size of him, and he was barely even moving.
“That’s it, baby.” He breathed. “I’m right here.”
He shifted his hips a little, and you clawed at his back, nails digging in until he hissed, rocking your hips to beg for more. You didn't want him holding back, not when you'd waited months for this. You strained your neck lifting it from the bed to whisper in his ear.
“I meant what I said, Coryo. Don’t be fucking nice.”
It was as if something in him snapped. Like he was holding on by a single thread, and you’d send him spiralling out of control. His hips jerked forward and you cried out as he filled you to the hilt, then rocked into you again, picking up a pace that was almost punishing. You tasted it, still wet on your lips, clung to your skin, and now, deep inside you.
Danger.
“So fucking pretty. Does my pretty girl need to get fucked, huh? Just like that?”
You could barely form words, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in further, feeling pinned open and beautifully used. Your cries melted together in your head until you could only understand bits and pieces, and as he fucked you, unrelenting, you felt your back slide up the mattress. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure they must’ve drawn blood. His forehead pressed against yours,
For a second, he slowed, looking down at you.
“That okay?” He muttered.
You nodded, frantic, barely there.
“Yeah.”
He sped up again and your legs grew weak. He reached his free hand down to grab hold of your thigh and push it higher, the new angle making you see stars, clenching around him impossibly tight.
“Good fucking girl.”
At some point, as you exchanged fewer words and more heated glances, you felt your hand slip from his back and come to rest against over his on your thigh, to hold it in place. He took it in stride, taking it in his, fingers interlacing as his thumb brushed yours.
You didn’t think much of it. How could you? Not when he was stretching the walls of your cunt as you gripped him like a vice. Not when you could barely hear the words coming from either of your mouths. But oddly, it was the gentle contrast that pushed you to the edge as he fucked into you just like you’d asked, hard and unrelenting, mean.
Despite it all, it was the thumb that brushed yours that had moans spilling from your mouth as you both took exactly what you wanted from each other. It sparked something in you, something that let you know you were safe here, that there weren’t any walls between you anymore, no twisted games that wouldn’t benefit you both equally.
“I’m close.” You gasped as his cool blue eyes spilled into yours, and you knew he was all yours.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? I can feel it.”
You nodded silently, muscles in our thighs tensing around his back, the hand that was twisted into yours now falling onto the bed beside you. He gripped it tighter, and fucked you harder, with a point to prove. When your eyes slid shut in ecstasy, right on the edge of falling apart, he squeezed your hand, palms hot and clammy against each other just like the rest of you.
“Look at me, baby.” He urged, fighting for breath. “You’re so fucking close, I need – shit – need to see you when you cum for me.”
It wasn’t hard to keep your eyes open, to keep them on him when he looked like that, like he was carved by the fucking gods, brow scrunched and shining with sweat, eyes bluer than ever, lips parted in an o shape. It was the prettiest sight you’d seen, and your hand tensed around his when you came, trembling like a leaf, mouth parting in a shout you barely heard, eyes focused on him, only him as he fucked you through it.
"Fuck, that's it, doll. Like that? Right fucking there?"
You cried out in response, and as you spilled apart, you heard your name slip past his lips through your ringing ears , followed by a string of curses, each one filthier than the next, not letting up once as he followed you over the edge, hips stuttering as you felt warmth fill your walls and his head fall down onto the pillow beside yours.
A few moments passed as you let the feeling wash over you, feeling the wonderfully sore, sticky mess between your thighs after he pulled out. You heard him catch his breath, then tumble onto his back by your side. You sighed as you stared at the ceiling, then at him, and with a smile realised he’d been looking at you.
“Like what you see?” You echoed. He smiled, coy.
“You know I do, beautiful.”
You sighed, satisifed.
“Keep calling me beautiful, Snow, and I might start thinking you want to fuck me.” You teased. “Wouldn’t want to give a girl the wrong idea.”
He laughed, bright and loud. A few more seconds passed, and you hummed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little annoyed I didn’t get to ride you.”
He swallowed then smiled, almost awe-like, transfixed. It was a feeling that you’d gotten used to over the past few weeks, but it felt new this time. Different.
“You’re not done?”
“Are you?”
He glanced at your lips, then back up again, voice earnest.
“Not with you, sweetheart.”
Your voice dropped to a whisper.
“Good. Then lay back. Head on the pillow for me.”
He obliged, blonde curls spilling over the fabric. You liked it when he grew his hair out a little, you thought as you hooked a leg over his waist. His hands came up to touch you, but you pressed his wrists back into the mattress.
“No touching, Coryo. You hear me?”
He nodded, eyes darkening again, and you lowered your head to kiss him, deep and slow. Felt yourself meld into him with a smile as his cock hardened against your thigh.
From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the white rose he'd given you, discarded haphazardly on the wooden floor.
And something inside you just knew, you’d never get bored of this.
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a/n: hope you liked it. thank you again for the love and for screaming along with me this whole time <33
taglist: (more in the comments) : @superchatnoir07 @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904@pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @ohstardew @ohmeadows
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jaylver · 6 months
Text
I WANNA BE YOURS — P.SH
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synopsis: hiding your secret relationship with sunghoon from your brother, jay, proved to be quite a challenge. that was until you’ve had enough of it, and sunghoon had to prove himself that he wants to be yours.
pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader
genre: brother's best friend au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, humour
warning(s): profanities, slight suggestiveness
wc: 1340
a/n: sorry for the inactivity (currently going insane) !! as promised, here's the hoon drabble, apologies in advance if it's lacking 😭 not my best work imo. will be back after tomorrow since it's my last paper (yay) so please wait for me hehe. as usual, feedbacks and reblogs are much appreciated ! love you all !
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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This was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Who said it would be a good idea to get involved with your brother's best friend? Nobody. Exactly. 
You found yourself somehow being tangled with Park Sunghoon ever since a party your brother and his friends held. He was only two years older than you and you've known him for practically your whole life. Your brother, Park Jong Seong, had known Sunghoon ever since they were kids, so he was definitely far from a stranger. 
Coming around your house almost every day, dinners during festivities, holding parties when your parents were out of town, Sunghoon's always there no matter what the occasion was. It didn't help that he was nice to you too. Constantly giving you friendly smiles and acknowledging you when your brother chased you away during their 'bro time', he was a sweetheart.
Eventually, you knew you were in hell once you discovered your teeny tiny crush on Sunghoon was real and existing. To be fair, he was gorgeous, paired with an even prettier personality. 
Yet, Jay was there to cockblock you and stop your chances. Look, he's a great brother to you, but he made it clear that you were 'off-limits', whatever that was. You couldn't believe it either. 
Being the typical little sister, it was natural to defy your big brother and do exactly what he told you not to.  Unbeknownst to him, you've gone behind his back and got with one of them. That explained why Sunghoon being in your room was wrong, especially when he's in your bed.
"Fuck—what about Jay?" You rasped out in between kisses, feeling the touch of his lips travelling down your throat.
Sunghoon groaned, his hands on your waist tightened momentarily. "He's not going to know I'm in here. I snuck in from your window anyway,"
"He can suddenly barge in,"
"You have your doors locked,"
Those words might seem nonchalant, but it was more than what it meant. 
The times he's spent in your room, knowing each and every part of it, the crevices of your sheets to the feeling of your skin on his. It wasn't just something simple. Neither was the fact of your door always being locked.
"I–I don't know," you suddenly turned uncertain, pushing yourself up and having him stop. 
"Hm? Are you okay? Something's up?" His face morphed into a look of concern, worried at your abrupt change in emotions.
"It's just—" you sighed, not knowing how to approach it, "I wish we could be honest to Jong. I don't want to sneak around anymore, Hoon, it almost feels like you want to keep me a secret,"
"I don't, Y/N, I would never want that," he ran a hand through his hair, proceeding to take yours in his. "I want to be with you, hell, I want to tell everyone that. I wanna be yours,"
"But? What even are we?"
Right, you got to the question that everyone feared.
"Your brother. I don't know when I can do it,"
Frustration etched deeper into your face. "Hoon, if you don't know when you'll do it, then maybe, maybe, you just don't want me like that, or that you're scared to admit your actual feelings and continue to toy me around,"
"No—"
"Goodnight, Sunghoon."
You turned over onto your side, frowning deeply. It was time for him to set his shit right, and he was going to have to figure it out himself. 
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The next few times you saw Sunghoon after that night was when he came over to hang out with your brother. He has been texting you, to which you reciprocated dryly. He even got you flowers, your favourite snacks and even waited for you outside your bedroom door, but all of that wasn't enough for you to forgive him.
Why couldn't he just tell Jay the truth? If it was you, you would've already said it, but since Sunghoon was reluctant, you didn't. This was frustrating.
What's more frustrating was having Sunghoon seated next to you at the dinner table during dinner. You could feel him casting glances at you, nervousness emitting from his body quite obviously. 
You were acting nonchalant, almost too nonchalant that it even had Jay casting glances between you and his jittery best friend. However, he said nothing.
"Hoon, pass the salad to Y/N," your brother said from Sunghoon's side, nudging him. You glanced up at the mention of your name, meeting Sunghoon's slightly widened eyes and confused stare. 
"I—uh—here," he took the bowl and passed it to you, chewing the insides of his mouth. 
How could you be mad at him when he looked like that? Sunghoon's starry eyes that never failed to soften your heart, the moles that decorated his face which you've traced in the night when he was asleep, he was your Sunghoon, or so you thought. 
"Thanks," you said softly, offering a smile that he warmly reciprocated. 
As you took the bowl from him, you felt the feather-like touch of his fingers grazing against yours, sending electricity up your senses. You locked eyes with him again, this time an equal want and pining evident in both your gazes.
He was the first to cough and retreat his hold on the bowl. You were snapped out of your momentary daze and also let out an awkward cough, scooping the salad into your bowl to shake off the feeling he gave you just now.
Once dinner was over, you took the very first chance to escape back upstairs, heart beating quicker the way up, and there was probably a reason for your anxiety. Sunghoon.
"Y/N," almost as fast as he had popped into your mind, he appeared behind you, probably followed you up. He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and you turned around, mouth slightly agape. "I figured we should … talk,"
You took in his words, nodding slowly. "We should,"
"I'm sorry," he said without any hesitation, a hint of desperation laced in both his gaze and voice. "I was wrong for not putting a label on our relationship, I should've treated you better, you're everything to me. My heart wouldn't stop beating whenever I see you, you've completely bewitched me, you've drove me insane,"
Sunghoon heaved in a breath, stepping closer. "Secrets I've held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. I told everything to Jay,"
"You—what?"
"I did. I realised what you said was right and I told him. He's cool with it, Y/N," Sunghoon smiled, and it was the same smile he only had whenever he's around you. 
"Really?"
"Really," he intertwined your fingers with his, pulling you close. "I wanna be yours, Y/N. You have my deep devotion, always,"
"Gosh, I want you to be mine—need you. I like you, a lot, like crazy a lot. I wanna be yours too,"
"You genuinely drive me insane," he leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, his lips edging closer. "Tell me if I can kiss you, pretty girl,"
He's kissed you many times, but this round, it hits differently. "You can,"
It didn't take Sunghoon another second before crashing his lips onto yours. He was pouring his pent up frustration, angst, desperation, and love into his kiss, almost kissing you as if there was no tomorrow.
As things escalated, you pushed him into your room, letting him spend the night where he smoothly asked you to be his girlfriend, which you agreed to, duh. 
All was well between you and Sunghoon. You even got together and started planning out dates. It was meant to be.
On the other hand, Jay spent the night with music blasting in his ears. He had already suspected something between you and his best friend, but to find out it had been happening for months? It was shocking. But, he wasn't opposed to it.
He just has to make sure to close his eyes whenever you two are around together. Couples, ew.
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
☆ permanent taglist (open):
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552 notes · View notes
feralforriddle · 4 months
Text
nobody makes me feel things.
summary: tom riddle x y/n, first person. tom starts to get really confused as to why he was feeling so many things for the sweet ravenclaw girl. but he seems to soften up pretty quick, leaving you just as confused.
a/n: my first ever fic! please give feedback if you enjoyed in the comments. this is probably super messy but i just kept typing lol. i hope u enjoy :3.
ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:・+*:ꔫ:*﹤˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
'what do you want.' he says, staring at me with his dark, cold glare. i gulp, immediately regretting my decision. picking at the skin around my nails, i pluck up the courage to ask him.
'um, i was just wondering if you were still tutoring people?' i ask, looking up at him anxiously. he stares at me for a second, seemingly very confused. or is he happy? angry? honestly, it's really hard to read him. impossible even.
'yes. i do, why?' he steps closer to me, looking down and crossing his arms. it's almost like he is trying to kill me. doesn't he realize how handsome he is?
'i am struggling at the moment in potions, a-and i know you're really smart in that subject. i was wondering if you'd help me?' i ask, trying to sound confident but failing miserably. why is it so hard to talk to him? obviously everybody knows what tom is like. he has almost zero friends, and he doesn't seem to care about making any.
but i have always been intrigued by him. always watching and admiring from afar. always found him exceptionally handsome. never found any courage to talk to him, though. so now is my chance to get his attention.
do i really need help in potions? not really. it's definitely not my most successful class, but i could probably still pass without his help. but the idea of him teaching me, maybe he could show me how to make potions too, standing behind me and guiding my hands-
okay, no. i am getting truly distracted now.
i have just always been so infatuated with him. my friends call me crazy for trying this, and that they have never seen him interested in any girl before him. i have seen him glance at me before, staring a little longer than just an accidental glance. so part of me is really hopeful he sees me the same way. and i don't have enough confidence to just ask him out, which is why i thought a study session would be good.
'i can help you. what is it you need help with the most?' he says, surprisingly softer. a slight glint in his eye. it did not last long though, he returned to his usual glare.
'mainly brewing the potions, getting things perfect. sure, i get it right but, you always seem to make them perfectly' i say, complimenting him lightly to see his reaction.
i did not get much of one.
'yes, mine are perfect. i can help you. i will ask professor slughorn if we can use the potions room after class hours, he won't mind i'm sure.' he says, nodding down at me once.
i smile brightly up at him, 'thankyou tom! i'll meet you there today around 6pm then?' i ask, beyond excited to get to spend more time with him.
he nods, squinting his eyes lightly at me before turning around and leaving. he certainly is a unique boy. i turn to return to the great hall and finish my lunch.
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i was itching for 6pm to come faster, wiggling in my seat in my final class of the day. i need to make sure i look pretty, too. i am incredibly nervous to see him, and be alone with him too. my cheeks go red at the thought. i am probably thinking of this way differently to tom, he probably isn't even excited. but i don't care, i just wanted him to see me, to notice me.
as soon as class ended, i sprinted back to my dorm to get changed and freshen up. putting on a clean white shirt, my slightly tighter one for no particular reason at all. and my ravenclaw skirt, pilling up a little further up my thighs than normal. i do light makeup, and ruffle my hair and im ready. this is very unlike me. i never dress like this, and to be honest i feel embarrassed but i want to catch his attention somehow.
it's 5:50pm, so i grab my study books and quill, and head quickly to the classroom. he arrives just seconds after me.
'hi tom' i smile.
he stares at me for a second, glancing down at my outfit. 'what are you wearing?' he says, glaring at me for a second.
'just my uniform..' i frown, looking down at myself.
tom's head erratically turns around, checking nobody is around. 'you walked down here like this?'
'..yes?'
'get inside, quickly.' he opens the door for me, and i rush inside, very very confused as to what is happening.
he looks at me again as i sit at the desk where he clearly prepared things. 'why did i have to rush in here?'
'because i don't want anybody else to see you like this.' he grunt, putting his books down before sitting beside me.
'why's that?' i say, a little hope bubbling inside of me that maybe it's because he only wants to see me like this.
'you ask too many questions. lets just focus on this' he says, avoiding eye contact with me.
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the whole study session i was incredibly nervous. i couldn't write properly because my hands were shaking so much. my cheeks constantly red through the whole thing. i sigh as he packs things away, 'thankyou for helping me, tom'.
'it's okay' he says nothing else before heading to the door.
i don't know why, but he seems even less interested after that. he is barely talking to me, his body language is just telling me he is uncomfortable. maybe he figured out my little plan and it put off by it? maybe he really just doesn't like me back. maybe i'm just not confident enough for him?
perhaps i should stop trying so hard.
i grab my own things and walk to the door with him. 'i-i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable tom, i'm sure you figured out what i was doing' i say with as much courage as possible. i feel ridiculously embarrassed. he looks at me and says nothing.
his face indicates nothing. nothing whatsoever. i take a deep breath. looking at him with glossy eyes, rushing out of the potions classroom and back to my dorm.
i jump on my bed, pushing my face in the pillow and letting a few tears go. i thought it would work, i really did think he might like me back. i was stupid to think so. he doesn't really feel anything for anyone. and i made such a fool of myself, trying to flirt or complimenting me, wearing this revealing uniform. oh god i want the ground to swallow me hole.
i just curl up into a ball and fall asleep soon after.
tom on the other hand, is left feeling very very confused. he doesn't know why he feels this way, why did he get a pang in his chest when he saw my glossy eyes? why couldn't he seem to breathe properly around me? he has never felt this way for anybody and he doesn't know what to do.
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the next day i head to breakfast, nervous about seeing tom there. he always sits at the end of the table alone, so it's inevitable he will see me as i walk into the great hall. i try and get there as early as possible, hoping i arrive before he does.
but no, he is sat there, and his head shoots up the second he sees me walk into the hall. my cheeks flush insanely red, my hands beginning to sweat a little as i feel his burning gaze on me.
i rush to the table, sitting by myself at the end too, not really wanting to tell my friends what happened.
tom sees me sitting alone and furrows his eyebrows. before even thinking, he stands up and walks over to sit directly opposite me on the ravenclaw table. i look up at him and panic.
'why are you sitting alone?' he says, staring at me.
'um, i just didn't feel like talking to my friends this morning' i gulp, frantically trying to avoid his gaze. he glances down to see them all staring with their jaws dropped.
'pathetic.' he mutters.
'you think im pathetic?' i say, eyes softening at him.
'no, quite the opposite' he mumbles, nodding his head down the table. 'that is pathetic'. my cheeks flush a little as i giggle at him. looking back up at him, i give him a soft smile.
'why did you come over here, tom?'
'because i don't want to see you sitting by yourself.' he says, taking a bite of his breakfast. 'come on, eat something. we have class soon'.
i do as he says, of course, but i am also extremely confused as to what is happening. from how he was acting yesterday, to this? i am very confused. but secretly i am really enjoying this.
'so, how about another study tonight?' he says bluntly. my eyes nearly shoot out of their sockets and my heart nearly came out of my chest.
'o-oh, um sure' i smile, covering my nerves.
'and you can wear that little outfit again. just don't let anybody see you on the way'. i nod quickly at him. and we quietly had breakfast together. he walked me to my class, which left my hiding my smile under my hand in class.
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i take a deep breath as i wait for tom to arrive outside of the class. i tap my feet on the floor in anticipation. my god, am i nervous.
'get inside, quick' he says, opening the door for me again.
i smile a little, rushing inside and sitting back in my normal seat. but there is nothing here set up to study like last time. he raised an eyebrow at me and slowly walks over as i look at him confused.
'what are we doing today tom if there isn't anything here?' i ask, turning to him as he sits beside me.
'oh i think we both know studying isn't the reason we are doing this' he says, turning to me slightly.
i almost choke on the air.
'i don't know what you've done to me, but i can't stop thinking about you' he sighs. 'it's awful, really. i haven't ever felt this way before, i was up most of the night figuring my feelings out. now i worry i am stuck, wanting you with me at all times when i can't'.
'yes, you can'. i jump to answer. 'just give me the word and i'm yours'.
'mine?' he hums, as i stand up and stand in between his legs, looking up at him.
'yours'.
he puts his hand on the side of my face. 'i hope you know what you've gotten yourself into. I'm not easy, darling'. he sighs.
'i'll get used to it' i smile.
'if i see any other man in the same proximity as you, i can't promise i won't hex them'.
'id like that' i hum.
'come here' he murmurs, pulling me closer into him, connecting his lips onto mine. and i melt. i've been wanting this for so long. his tongue swipes against my bottom lip, deepening the kiss as my hands wrap around his neck, pulling him to stand with me and wrap his arms around my waist.
'lets go back to my dorm. i have my own dorm because i hate everyone.' he mumbles against my lips. i giggle at him, pulling back and nodding. 'lets go' i agree.
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the next morning, i walk into the great hall for breakfast. tom's eyes find mine as he gives me a very small, but cheeky grin.
he stands up and walks over to my table before i can sit down.
he grabs my chin, pressing a kiss against my lips softly right in front of all my friends. as if to prove a point.
'see you in class, baby'.
i smile at him as he walks back to the slytherin table. i look down at my friends,
'what on earth?!' they shout.
✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥
a/n; and we're done! please give me feedback if you liked this, or not. my first ever fic ahh! <3 love u angels.
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nicksbestie · 3 months
Note
Hiii could i request a Johnnie Guilbert x gn reader where johnnie has a giant crush on reader and reader flirts w him and flusters him
Yes!!! This was so fun to write bc it's my first fic for this fanbase, so pls give me feedback!! and send in more reqs!! <3
Hallway Crush
word count : 1909
no warnings!
pairing : johnnie guilbert x reader
enjoy! <3
School had never really been Johnnie’s thing.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t good enough to pursue an incredible education, it was just that he didn’t normally have the motivation. He wasn’t dumb, he was incredibly intelligent, but he just didn’t have the energy to push to show it most days. He was the kid who always passed, very average but not stellar grades, but every now and then shocked his teachers and classmates with pulling out a top of the class grade. He would laugh and call it his magic trick if you ever asked him about it. However, music was his thing, and because of that, he took every musical arts related class that he could during his years in high school. 
He was a quieter kid, with a much more alternative style of dress, and because of both of these factors, he was a bit of a loner. He wasn’t disliked, per say, but he wasn’t popular, and he didn’t go out of his way to attempt to gain a large group of friends. He had a few friends his age who went to other schools that he saw quite often, and those were good enough for him. He didn’t see a point in trying to put himself out there, so to speak, when he was quite comfortable where he was. Quality over quantity, right? That, of course, didn’t mean that there weren’t times in his life where he wished that more people adored him like they do for a lot of the popular teenagers. 
Sometimes it helped to be more on the outcast-y side. He could get away with silent observation, learning things that nobody had any idea that he knew about. He was a kid people talked so much around, but not to. They weren’t worried that their secrets would be spilled or spread around in any sort of way because they didn’t believe that he had anyone to tell them to, or that anyone would believe him in the first place. But other times, he wished he had more of the school, or at least his grade’s, support. Like now, when he had a massive crush on the most popular student in the entire school. Maybe, if he did, he would have more of a chance. 
He tried not to think about it a whole lot. It wasn’t good for him to dwell on things, as he had learned early in life. It caused his mental health to struggle if he stewed on a specific negative topic for too long, and even though the topic of a crush isn’t inherently negative, the fact that he didn’t feel like it would ever go anywhere was. Being that he didn’t have a lot of friends at the school he was at, he wasn’t a stranger to staring looks and laughing sometimes. He wasn’t exactly bullied or picked on, but when people ran out of new, fresh, drama to talk about, it was easy for them to turn to the kid who was never really speaking to many people. 
He used music to escape his own head, and he always had. It had been a coping mechanism of his for so many years, before he was even old enough to realize what it was, or what had caused him to need it more and more. He was incredibly musically gifted, a natural talent within the dexterity of his fingers for guitar, and it was always a calming thing for him to partake in. Sometimes he wrote his own music, but most times when he just needed a quick release, he would pick a song that he had been resonating with lately and strum through it a couple times. He would get lost in the feeling of the music and the feeling of the strings underneath his fingertips. It was always a thing that caused him to completely lose track of time, and he loved it. It was always a perfect thing to enjoy something you were also so good at. It kept that passion for it alive.
The music room was where he went during his free time. He couldn’t drive, and luckily, his free periods lined up with the music free periods, so he could always be found in that room, playing something on his guitar in the back corner. He also went there during lunch, preferring to spend the time doing something productive for his music. He really wanted to go into a career in music, and he was working so hard to achieve that despite many of the struggles he was facing at the same time. He poured his heart and soul into every song, every piece, that he wrote, and even when he didn’t like the music very much, he was proud of his ability to be vulnerable and put it onto the pages. That had taken a lot of personal growth for him to realize that to put good songs and things that he was proud of into the world, he would have to bare parts of himself for view.
It was during this part of his day, lunch time, when he was sitting in the music room, playing on his guitar. He was the only one in the room, and like usual, he was sitting in the back, not wanting to disturb anyone who could potentially choose to walk in. And after about ten minutes of the lunch period going by, there was someone who walked in, and Johnnie wanted to curse all ancestors before him for this type of bad luck. It would be the one person that he wanted to see more than anyone else in the school, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have been able to really talk to without humiliating himself. Only his luck. 
He didn’t speak to you when you walked in, but he did offer a kind smile when you looked up and made eye contact, before looking back down at his guitar and continuing to work on his own music. You had stopped by the music room because you had a music project that had to be completed, but you weren’t very musically inclined, so you felt very grateful that you didn’t have to present it, only had to turn it in. However, you did still have to make an effort, but you didn’t have a guitar at home, so you were stopping by to use the ones in the music room. You only knew a couple of chords, but it was the most that you knew on any instrument, so it was your best option. All you had to do was come up with a simple melody, a short strumming pattern, and that would pretty much be it, but for someone who wasn’t great at music, that was harder than it sounded. 
And it sounded pretty bad. Johnnie would never have said that directly to your face, but if you had turned around and watched him in the back corner, you would have been able to see him slightly grimacing whenever a chord sounded particularly bad. He wasn’t judging, necessarily, he remembered very well when he had been playing the exact same way, and if he felt anything, it would just be sorry for you because he could see on your face how frustrating the chords sounding incorrect were for you. After about ten more minutes of this, he stopped playing his own guitar, quietly watching and listening to the chords you were attempting to play. He listened to a couple shaky renditions of them, and attempted to play them on his own instrument. 
As soon as he did, you turned around, noticing how he froze as soon as your eyes were on him. 
“No, go on. Please. That’s exactly what I wanted it to sound like. How did you do that?” 
Taking a leap of faith, he got up to move across the room, pulling a chair up next to you and reaching his hands out. 
“May I?” 
You handed him the guitar, nodding, intently watching the way that he adjusted it on his lap before beginning to play it again. 
“You’re not pushing the strings down hard enough, and your fingers are too far away from the fret. That’s why it sounds so… that’s what you need to fix for it to sound a lot better.” 
You laughed, gently taking the guitar back. 
“Sounds so bad, it’s okay, you can say it.” 
He smiled, a blush gently dusting his face. 
“I wasn’t going to say bad. I was going to say buzzy but I felt that might be slightly insulting.” 
You shook your head, taking his advice and focusing on repositioning your fingers the way he had instructed. Strumming downwards, a smile broke out on your face when the first chord sounded so much better. Confidence boosted, you moved to the next one, wincing when it sounded worse than the original. His kind expression didn’t disappear, and instead he moved closer, a question in his eyes before he spoke it. You attempted to hand the guitar back to him, assuming he was going to ask to hold it again for a demonstration, but he quickly cut you off.
“No, keep everything where you are. Can I touch you?” 
You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. Despite your opposite styles and aesthetics, you had always found the style that Johnnie wore incredibly attractive. It wouldn’t fit you the way that it did him, but it looked so damn good on him, and apparently, he was oblivious to that fact. You wouldn’t have called it a crush at first assumption, but maybe that’s exactly what it was. You hide those feelings, throwing on a cocky look and smiling at him. 
“What exactly are you asking for?” 
He stammered in defense before noticing that you were smiling at him, and the dusty pink that had been on his face now turned a much darker red, and he just shook his head, looking back down at the guitar, refocusing. However, you thought if you were going to be getting closer to finishing this project, you were at least going to have a little fun while you were at it, especially with such a pretty boy right in front of you. 
“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. I’d say yes regardless, though.” 
His head snapped back up, an unbelieving laugh slipping out of his lips. 
“You can’t just say things like that.” 
You smiled at him, motioning for him to continue what he was doing, and he did. He moved around behind you to adjust his arm on the guitar as well, and gently moved and applied pressure to your fingertips before telling you to try strumming it now. 
“Why not?” 
He shook his head, instructing you to test out the chord again before replying. 
“You just can’t.” 
The chord sounded wonderful in comparison to what it had sounded like thirty minutes prior, and you were so grateful for all of Johnnie’s help. His head was right next to yours, a gentle smile on his face, a little bit of pride, and a lot of blushing prompted your next question.
“Can I kiss you instead?” 
He turned his head to stare at you, nearly wide-eyed, shocked with the realization that this wasn’t a dream, it was actually happening. This time, he didn’t hesitate to reply. 
“Yes. That you can do.”
266 notes · View notes
screamforyani · 11 months
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family ties
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pairing ↠ miguel o’hara x (f) shapeshifter!reader
genre .. warnings ↠ angst, violence, recurring mentions of death and murder, shapeshifter!reader, non-spiderperson reader, enemies to lovers esque, parenting!au, neighbor!au
summary ↠ six years ago, your ex-fiancé and the father of your baby was killed in a fatal incident involving the head of alchemax. ever since then, you’ve devoted yourself to a life of crime to take care of your daughter. by day, you fall deeper in love with your neighbor, and by night, you come face-to-face with spider-man.
word count ↠ 14.5k
a/n ↠ most of this is set in mc’s universe so anything’s canon here. this is a repost!!!! feedback is appreciated!!!!!!
if anybody asked, you would tell them that doing a crime lord's bidding was nothing to write home about. it was assignment after assignment to keep a roof over your head and putting up with a nineteen-year-old (at least you think he's nineteen) with a reckless mouth. his tongue had gotten him into unimaginable trouble, that was for sure. not just him, but you. curse you for being benevolent enough to not let the poor kid die.
but on the other hand, it could sometimes be rewarding. sometimes.
the venue was sizeable and bustling with rich people. as expected, given the occasion. rod malone-fisk would be hosting an event with his daddy’s money, though most significantly, somewhere upstairs lodged their family’s priceless gemstone.
drawn to your partner’s chest, you could easily pass for a lovely rich couple eager to stuff yourselves full of expensive appetizers, which you had to subtly swat hobie’s hand to keep him from grabbing. he was sporting a tailored red suit to tone with your deep crimson gown, each of you donning masks to match (given that it was a masquerade). 
it was strangely foreign to see hobie outside of his typical punk fits. none of the boots and chains and leather jackets - which looked cool on him, not that you would ever admit it - though he still had his unshakable attitude.
your partner in crime scanned the menu with disdain. “have you seen the menu? what the hell is a beef bourguignon?”
“you butchered the shit out of that,” you told him none too politely, wincing at the horrid pronounciation. “and stop being a baby. i can make you something later if you want.”
hobie dramatically put his hand over his heart. “you know, you treat me like your own son.”
“somebody has to,” you mumbled under your breath.
hobie obviously heard that, and before he could make a comment that would more than likely blow your cover, marsai interrupted through your ear pieces, “um, guys?”
hobie, sobering, asked, “any updates, mar?”
“i just hacked the surveillance system. as expected, the door to the diamond room has tight security. now, i can get you a distraction in roughly two hours, but the rest of the weight is yours to pull.”
marsai was your guy in the chair and that was her way of saying that she could get you both in, but she couldn’t get you out. 
“got it,” you said. 
for half an hour, you and hobie pretended to give a damn about what rodney had to offer, other than his father’s precious gemstones. even through the mask you could tell hobie was bored half to death by the monologue and the second it was over he didn’t hesitate to drag you to the dance floor.
the plan was etched into your memory. including the initial, backup, and safety plan. you were just waiting for marsai to give you the go-ahead. biding your time, one would put it. then you’d bolt upstairs, steal the gem, and book it.
this boring event being a test of your patience was your only concern. it gave you too much time to fret, to worry about what meadow was doing and if she was alright. of course, she’s alright, you thought to yourself. you left her in the most trustworthy of hands. nobody else would do.
“marsai, you’re killing me. it’s been fifty-leven hours,” hobie groaned impatiently for only you and the woman in his earpiece to hear.
you snickered tiredly and added in agreement, “give me any more chances to drink vodka and i might not be able to walk in a straight line. let alone carry out the mask.”
“okay, okay. give me, like, five minutes.”
devon, your getaway driver, tapped into the line and said, “hurry up. i’ve been waiting outside for like an hour.”
“only an hour?” you asked curiously. to be honest, he had been so silent that you’d forgotten he was even there. 
“oh, yeah. i got hungry and went for a burger.”
hobie snarled, voice dripping with obvious envy, “lucky you.”
you laughed.
not even a minute later, the fire alarms began to cry, alerting everyone about a potential fire. you immediately made a beeline for the stairs in spite of the crowd of people flocking towards the exit. you wanted to throw your stilettos over the railing and possibly hit rodney square in the head.
hobie was right behind you. the diamond was in a room down the hall on the far right end of the corridor. it was the perfect place to corner a potential thief.
you looked suspicious running the opposite direction as everybody else, but fortunately for you and your partner, everyone was too scared for their life to question you. even if they noticed, they sure as hell wouldn’t stop and ask why. not with their lives in jeopardy. 
marsai announced in your ears, “most of the security have evacuated their posts, but there’s a couple coming upstairs. they’re not far behind you.”
“i’ll take care of it,” hobie said without leaving much room for argument. he spared you one little look before spinning on his heels.
you drew your gun from the slit in your long gown and continued to pace down the hall, never stopping no matter what. time was most valuable in predicaments like this and you had very little. you needed to be calculated. 
there was no security guarding the door when you arrived. piece of cake, you thought to yourself smugly. and jotted down a mental note to definitely reward yourself with a sickly sweet desert after tonight. 
barging inside, you instantly spotted the gem and wasted not another second to swipe a tiny device from your thigh holster, hurling it at the glass case. it ruptured on impact, shattering on itself. you swiped the jewel and turned.
another voice spooked you and abruptly said, “thank you. i’ll take that.”
the stranger didn’t even let you get a word in before he was snapping the priceless gem out of your clutches, and in a blink, he was running for the door. it only took one glance for you to recognize your unexpected company as the masked vigilante known as spider-man. 
you hated that guy. kind of. on the one hand, you weren’t against him making new york city a safer place for your daughter, but on the other hand, all he did was get in the way of your work and you needed to be able to provide for her.
you aimed your weapon, but spider-man was quick to smoothly slip to the side, quite literally dodging a bullet without even turning around once. “nice shot,” he taunted, pursuing his escape unscathed.
hot on his heels, your stilettos clicked loudly against the cool marble floor. spider-man couldn’t even made it out the door before you were on him, sending him off of his feet. he swore under his breath but never dropped the gem, and you feared he would destroy it with with his grudging clasp. before you could move again, he stole your gun no longer strapped to your thigh, grabbing it with his webs and tossing it across the room.
“how clever,” you snarled, snatching the gem and running the opposite direction.
the masked self-proclaimed superhero charged after you with featherlight, nimble steps that you matched with a graceful agility. you didn’t bother to try to take back your weapon, because you weren’t aiming to wound or maim and there was no need for a body count. 
the two of you danced around the broken case, careful not to slip in glass shards. it reminded you of children playing tag. with you holding the weapon now, you were undoubtedly it.
spider-man pranced around the glass, walking in a circle. he could have easily taken you down and he knew it. he was bigger than you, quicker than you, and stronger than you, but he didn’t particularly want to use his strength on you.
“i don’t want to hurt you,” admitted spider-man in a way that almost came off as a warning. he was stepping around you in the way someone would walk around a sleeping dragon.
you scoffed, “oh, don’t worry, baby. you won’t.”
the feeling was not mutual. you promptly grabbed some glass shards in your black gloves - never taking your eyes off of him - and chucked them his direction. the stranger missed them narrowly, dancing out of their way. you had to give credit where credit was due. this human spider was better than any opponent before him.
in the second it took him to skate out of harm’s way, spider-man inched closer to you, enough for the diamond to be at arm’s length of his body. you slid, the jewel taking to the air. he smoothly caught you and the diamond in his arms all in the same breath, and your shock granted him a few seconds leeway for escape.
for a second, you were too stunned to take action. then, you noticed he was getting away and it wore off as quickly as it came, with you right behind him. 
you took off one of your stilettos and chucked it towards him with superhuman speed like a weapon, and he swore again, whirling around quickly enough to catch the other one before it could strike him too. “woman, you’re insane,” he hissed, eyeing you darkly as you approached him.
“i’ve heard that one before,” you teased, eyes still on the prize. “do better.”
you reached for his mask and he quickly caught your hand before you could reveal his identity, though with your spare hand you snatched the jewel while he was off guard and made a beeline for the exit, your bare feet slapping against the floor. jesus fucking christ, where the hell was hobie when you needed him?
spider-man flung the broken glass case in front of the door with his webs in a final attempt to prevent you from fleeing, immediately giving chase. it was too bad that you had already suddenly shifted towards the window, making him stop short of the broken shards, and stood at the edge of the tall window with the gem pressed to your bosom.
“this has truly been fun, spidey,” you told him, just as you fell out of the window. 
and he would have caught you. he would have stopped going easy on you, would have wrapped this tango up if it weren’t for the fact that you were nowhere to be found. he peered out of the window and saw nobody falling to their death. he crawled up the building and swung from place to place, but it was like you had disappeared in the shadows.
literally.
crawling undetected across the gloomy crevices of the building before taking to the air, you made it to the other side of the building and to the getaway car.
hobie was sitting in the backseat and was baffled when he heard the gem drop just before he saw a jet-black raven that he recognized as your go-to bird identity. “oh, hey,” he said coolly. “how’d it go?”
you transformed back into your original form and hobie glanced away. it was never a process he wanted to look at. not some perfectly animated transition like in the movies. you ignored him and said, “devon, drive.”
“it’s about time,” devon said, speeding off.
“my bad. i had a surprise guest,” you droned, massaging the balls of your feet while hobie placed the gem in the front seat and even wrapped the seatbelt around what would’ve been its chest if it had one. which wasn’t the most brilliant idea, given that rodney was definitely going to report it missing and though the windows were tinted, the roof of the car was down.
devon pushed, “as in?”
“as in spider-man,” you replied coolly. jesus, your feet were killing you. marsai should not have let you walk around in stilettos for hours.  no matter the reward of your sacrifice.
hobie was none too pleased by the intervention. “how in the hell did he know we were going to be there?”
you could see devon’s baffled face from the rear-view mirror. “that’s something to have marsai follow up on.”
you shook your head, bemused and engrossed in thought. your first encounter with spider-man. how exciting. “he caught me when i was about to fall even after i threw glass at him.”
“you were about to fall?” hobie asked, amused. “what is it you always say? never get caught slipping? you quite literally-”
“never get caught slipping. i know. thanks,” you finished, finally clicking your seatbelt into place. 
“aw, shit. she’s in love with spider-man,” devon quipped, earning a sharp glare from the backseat.
hobie laughed. obnoxiously. 
“can you guys shut the hell up already?” you hissed. “i’m just surprised. he treated me better than the two of you even as i came for his life.”
“alright. don’t call us when he throws you in a prison cell,” hobie said blankly.
you rolled your eyes.
the drive was longer than usual because devon wanted to ensure that there were no cops tailing him, aimlessly coasting around town for a while until ultimately taking a very elusive route to your house where he eventually dropped off you and hobie, who didn’t hesitate to remind you about that dinner offer.
when you opened the door to your house, you barely even stepped inside before meadow forwent her coloring book and ran over to you, shouting, “mommy!”
“hey, baby,” you said, watching her short arms wrap around your leg. “how was your day?”
“it was fun. tt took me to the park and she said we can go again tomorrow!” meadow exclaimed giddily, literal stars in her eyes. nothing made you more soft than the sight of your baby girl at the end of a long day.
“that sounds like loads of fun,” you told meadow, gently patting her back.
meadow went to hobie next, calling out for him, and he picked your six-year-old daughter up in his arms. “‘ey up, cheeto. did you make any friends at the park?”
cheeto was the nickname hobie had given your daughter four years back after he saw her eating a bag of cheetos. for whatever reason, it just stuck. everyone called her that, even you every now and then.
“i did,” meadow said, noticably less enthusiastic than before. and it took a lot to get your daughter down in the dumps. she was just so full of life and you wanted her to hold onto that innocence for as long as she could. “but there was this bully. he wouldn’t let me get on the swings.”
that got hobie’s attention, as well as yours. he sat her back down, flexing his muscles and making punching motions. “what? do you want me to handle him for ‘ya? look, i learned some new moves.”
meadow was her giggly self again, watching hobie box the air. 
you, on the other hand, were not happy. you crouched to be eye-level with her and said gently, “if there’s somebody bothering you, cheeto, i can always take to their parents.”
“that won’t be necessary,” came another voice, and you quickly glanced up to see your best friend of many years, lani lee. she was also the one and only person you trusted to babysit your daughter, although you would consider letting hobie watch her for forty-five minutes maximum. “i already talked to the little boy and his parents. he won’t be bothering her any more. i made sure of it.”
“what would i do without you,” you said, standing up to pull your best friend in for a hug while hobie entertained meadow. 
“die of paranoia, probably.”
you rolled your eyes, though she wasn’t wrong. it eased your nerves a lot bit to know your daughter was under the watchful eye of someone like a sister to you. you pulled back, noticing she had her purse in hand, and asked, “you aren’t staying for dinner?”
“oh, no. i can’t. i have a… date,” lani said, the fleeting pause and her constant awkward glimpses between you and meadow making her implications obvious. 
hobie, who also got the memo, snickered. “a date, you say?” 
“stay out of grown folk’s business,” you and lani said simultaneously. 
“mind you, i’m nineteen! i can drink!”
“in london, yes. in brooklyn, no,” you said under your breath, almost hoping he didn’t hear you. you weren’t inclined to have this conversation for the umpteenth time.
“well, i’m gonna head out. you kids have fun,” lani said, slipping out of the house before hobie could make a quip. 
instead, hobie turned to you and asked, “yo, mind if i crash here for the night?”
“you know you can stay whenever you want, hobie,” you told him, heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner. 
“sweet. i’m going to go settle down and i’ll watch cheeto while you cook.”
that’s sweet of him, you thought. you acknowledged him with a nod and immediately washed your hands.
after steaming up the kitchen and donning a more casual outfit you called the youngins out for dinner. hobie, the gentleman he was, helped you set the table and the three of you ate dinner together as if you were one big family. you didn’t mind it. usually, meadow was fed and asleep by the time you got back from work, so you warmed up whatever lani had cooked and ate alone. if lani had time, she’d stay to chitchat, but what was even more rare was you getting home early enough to eat dinner with your daughter.
you made sure lani had whatever resources she needed to take care of meadow and herself. she insisted that you didn’t need to compensate her, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t thank her enough for stepping in when you couldn’t be there like you wanted.
meadow got sleepy after dinner, like she usually did after eating, and you tucked her in, whispering, “goodnight. mommy loves you very much.”
“goodnight. i love you, too. very much,” meadow said sleepily, snuggling her favorite stuffed animal. it was a dragon named cheeto junior, much to your amusement.
you giggled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and turning on her nightlight before shutting the door behind yourself.
then, you grabbed a plate you’d set aside and wrapped up and you even made a total of twenty steps to the front door before hobie appeared out of nowhere - you could of swore he was washing the dishes a minute ago - and asked nosily, “is that for the miguel guy you’re crushing on?”
“jesus fucking christ, hobie. i’m not crushing on him,” you said, maybe a little in denial. sitting at the table eating dinner with someone other than your shadow made your chest hurt, which factored into the denial. “he just helps out a lot. mows the yard and… stuff.”
“and stuff,” hobie repeated with air quotes, because apparently you needed an echo, as if you weren’t loud enough. “that’s rubbish.”
you groaned, “look, i’m just repaying the favor. not that that’s any of your business. go to sleep, kid.”
hobie threw up his hands, mumbling, “fine, fine. but only because i’m knackered.”
you slipped out the front door, somewhat antsy, not that you would ever admit it. you just got all jittery around miguel for whatever reason. maybe it was because he was attractive, which you had no problem admitting. very attractive.
you remembered the first time meeting him. 
it was a saturday and you were cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing down every surface and wiping every dish clear of stains and clearing out the fridge. you’d only taken your eyes off your daughter for a second before you looked back up and noticed her absence. 
your heart immediately sank with panic. “meadow?” you called out. 
no answer.
you had to have flipped over the entire living room and been on your way to her bedroom before you realized the front door was more than a little cracked just as you passed by the foyer, impenetrable fear spreading through your body like wildfire.
you immediately stepped outside of your house, frantically calling out, “meadow!”
“is this who you’re looking for?”
you spun around eighty degrees, spotting meadow walking through your yard with your neighbor. you sighed out in relief, rushing over to swoop your baby girl in your arms. “sweetheart, i’m so glad you’re okay,” you told her. then, you your tone turned chastising. “don’t you ever leave this house again without me or tt, you hear me?”
meadow looked confused for a split-second, but seeing your brows furrowed with worry and your features tensed with panic, she seemed to have understood that she had messed up somewhere along the line. “‘m sorry, mama.”
you sat her down, noticing the dollar bill in her hand. “now where on earth did you get that?”
“i asked mr. o'hara if i could have a lollipop but he said it’s very bad to take food from strangers, so he gave me a dollar.”
that was when your vision panned to your next-door neighbor, miguel o’hara, who was standing there with a small smile on his face. your eyes were watering and you tried not to let them fall, repeatedly telling him, “thank you.”
miguel shook his head, a palm flat on his hips. “it’s no problem. i just wanted to make sure the little girl got back home safe.”
ever since that moment, you’d been extremely grateful for miguel. to say nothing of the fact that he did a bunch of yard work out of the sheer kindness of his heart. he insisted multiple times that he didn’t need any reward, but you had to argue. there was a chance you might not have ever seen meadow again had he not brought her back to you. if you lost your daughter, you would have nothing left.
so, your idea of compensation happened to be food, which miguel didn’t mind at all. you loved to cook. you used to cook all of the time, every meal from breakfast to dinner.
that was a while ago, though. standing on his front door now with a hot plate in hand, you tried desperately not to go down memory lane. 
not too long after, miguel opened the door and spotted you standing in his doorway. “good evening.”
“good evening, miguel. this is for you,” you said with a polite smile, extending the plate. 
“thank you,” he said graciously, accepting the food with a matching smile. “may i ask what for?”
you didn’t really know the answer yourself. the yard had already been mowed and there didn’t seem to be any other issues that lani couldn’t take care of herself. “just in case you were hungry or something. but if you’re not, you can always save it later.”
“i’m starving,” miguel replied, smiling with his eyes. they were beautiful. much like the rest of him, you might add. his broad shoulders and dark hair and the way his muscles poked out of his t-shirts.
“well, then. that solves that,” you said with a laugh. “have a goodnight, mr. o’hara!”
“you, too!”
miguel watched you back off his doorway, just until he was certain you were safely back in your house. you could feel his eyes on you like a sixth sense, but didn’t dare turn around, shutting your front door behind you.
“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t checking him out?” came hobie’s voice from your couch. 
rather than startle, you took off one of your slippers and said, “you have until the count of five. one, two, three-”
“c’ya,” hobie said, darting down the hall. 
you shook your head and let out a sigh.
EARLIER THAT DAY…
miguel shook his head and heaved a breath. 
peter, who had taken a kind of passion to his job, was none too thrilled by the news. “you let a thief wanted in forty-two counties get away?”
“forty-three,” lyla chirped.
miguel glared, on the verge of letting out an animalistic roar. normally, this would be something miguel yelled at the others about, so it was a very unwelcome change of pace. “we have a back-up plan,” miguel reminded, pinching the bridge of his nose. “i’ve got it under control.”
“you sure that you’ve got it under control?” gwen asked, definitely pushing miguel’s buttons in ways that she shouldn’t have. “and not-”
“stop,” miguel hissed. “everyone go. i need to be alone.”
nobody wanted to contend with that tone, so gwen dragged miles out of the room in case miguel decided to take his anger out on him, with peter quickly following. jessica stayed behind, closing the door behind them, and lyla was, well… a computer.
miguel really did have a plan, because of course he did, he was never without one. in fact, not having a plan to follow made him lose his mind. so it was safe to say it wasn’t the fact that his mission had failed that was making him upset. it was you.
“hey,” jessica said, brushing his shoulder. “what’s on your mind?”
“i’m fine,” miguel said a little more harshly than intended, though it was to be expected with him. 
jessica snickered, putting her hands on her hips. “well, when you say it with that mean ‘ole tone of yours, i know you’re lyin’.”
look at him. a grown man sulking. it was hilarious, not that jessica would say that aloud. right now.
not too many people knew the actual plan. jessica knew. lyla knew, because of course she did, but miguel deliberately told the others that the plan was to catch you because you were a threat to the multiverse. which was the half truth, but the part about you potentially destroying the multiverse was just feeder for the birds. he didn’t want them to ruin things.
in reality, he did intend to catch you, but not because you were going to destroy the multiverse. he wanted you to help them save it. he’d been watching you for a while now, gauging your power. battling you for the first time was merely a test. he could have taken you down in no time if he wanted, left you for the cops to grab, but that would only put a dent in his plans.
miguel had seen what you could do. now, he was ready to bring you in.
TWO WEEKS LATER…
you were running, a bit more comfortably than last time considering this thiefing ordeal didn’t require you to wear painfully long heels and a dress with a huge slit down the front. just your typical mask. you burst out of the door that led to the rooftop, heaving, given that you’d just ran up what felt like fifty flights of stairs.
you were just about to shapeshift into your signature jet-black raven until you felt something stick at your feet and realized you couldn’t move. glancing down, you saw red webs, and threw your head back with a groan. not good for takeoff, you thought, in spite of the fact that you absolutely could not get caught. maybe you could still fly, but if the webs got stuck to your feathers, it was game over.
spider-man emerged from the shadows of night, moonlight glimmering on his suit. “going somewhere?”
“well, not anymore, looks like,” you grumbled, irritated. 
little did the police know, you had already dropped off the stolen item. so you would still get your next paycheck. though the expenses for having to get you out of jail could’ve potentially taken a toll on it, depending on how benevolent your boss was feeling.
spider-man chuckled, approaching you. “what did you steal this time? an emerald? a ruby?”
“wouldn’t you like to know?” you hissed.
“you got me there,” replied spider-man, although there was a kind of arrogance in his tone that really pissed you off. “i’m not letting you get away this time.”
you cackled, almost like a witch. “you can deter me, spider-man, all you want,” you told him, trying to break out of the webs, but to no avail. “but i’m unstoppable.”
spider-man took one look at you, struggling to free yourself from your restraints, and cackled. “here. let me help.”
you sucked in a breath when his talons started to protrude from the tips of his fingers, but they were gone after the mere three seconds it took for him to slash the thread of string to bits. you stepped back an inch, as if you were testing your freedom. then, you threw him a baffled look behind your mask. there was no reason why the same man trying to catch you just set you free. unless it was a trap.
now was your moment. you could have shapeshifted and been on your merry way, but something told you to stay put. just for now, as if you were going to miss something. 
“i think she went up here, boss!”
hearing those voices, your first instinct was to take flight, but spider-man had different plans and you quietly gasped when he shoved you behind a wall, placing a sheathed hand over your mouth. it was the only part of your mask that wasn’t covered. breathing issues.
there were footsteps. you glanced at spider-man, who was looking at you. the two of you said nothing, but there had to have been a billion thoughts warring through your mind and they each blurred into each other. 
“don’t move a muscle,” spider-man growled, stepping from behind the wall and approaching the police. for whatever reason, you listened, despite the fact that you should have fled while you still had the opportunity. some nerve this guy had telling you what to do.
spider-man donned his friendliest tone, greeting, “everything alright, sheriff?”
“we got a tip that a woman ran this way,” the sheriff said, glancing around the rooftop. now would probably be a great time to shapeshift into a chameleon. or literally any small critter.
“i didn’t see a woman. i can assure you it’s just me up here,” spider-man said, scratching his head. “but i can help you find her.”
the sheriff seemed to mull it over, from the brief pause you noticed him take, but ultimately responded, “no, no, that’s okay. you do enough around here, spider-man. we’ve got this one.”
“alright. you have a good night, sheriff.”
your eyes flickered, hearing the footsteps of the sheriff and his team fade. did spider-man just protect you - again?
“why did you do that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him from behind your mask. you didn’t like this guy, if it wasn’t obvious enough. you felt like he was trying to get you off guard, and that made you dig in your heels even more.
“because if anyone’s gonna turn you in, it’ll be me,” spider-man said in a low tone, cornering you against the wall and trapping you in front of his chest. “i want to take you down all by myself.”
you snickered. that had to have been the most amusing thing you’d heard all day. you placed your hands on his shoulders, purring, “really now? you think you can take me down?”
“i know i can,” he told you, his words whispering to you with the rustling of the wind. “and i will.”
“hm,” was all you said, bringing one of your hands down his chest. he sounded so certain. 
spider-man cocked his head. you couldn’t see, obviously, but there was a little grin dancing on his lips. “do you touch every guy like this or am i special?”
“i loved a man once,” you told him. not that it was any of his business. you cloaked the wistfulness in your voice with sultriness. “didn’t end too well for either of us.”
spider-man paused, like he was surprised by the sudden confession, but wasted no time to recover. “is that why you’re here?”
you chewed your lip. he was right on the money. “i’m here because i choose to be.”
“but if you had the chance to be something else, something… better,” spider-man started, tracing your lip with his concealed thumb. “you would take it, right?”
of course, you would. those kind of opportunities just weren’t something everybody was fortunate enough to have. you had it all and then you lost it in the blink of an eye, watching it all crumble before your feet. if you were being honest, you were cheating death.
“i guess we’ll never know,” was all you said before breaking out of his arms and jumping off of the building. 
spider-man watched you, but he knew you would be alright even before he saw the raven come up and disappear into brooklyn’s dark evening sky and he couldn’t tell you apart from a star.
THE FOLLOWING DAY…
with your line of work, you had quite a few days off. but that was because you didn’t have a fixed schedule, which was a blessing and a curse wrapped into one. when your boss called, you answered. even if it meant having to haul ass out of bed at four in the morning.
today was one of those days off. you insisted lani didn’t need to do anything, sending her money to make sure she was set since she was basically your daughter’s full-time babysitter. you made meadow breakfast, dropped her off at school, and went back home. 
thinking about meadow and if she was safe always made you nervous. since you could afford it these days, you enrolled her in a private school. it didn’t hurt, even if she hates the uniform at first. you just wanted to decrease the chances of something bad happening to her.
miguel was on his front porch when you pulled into the driveway, your houses not significantly far from each other. every now and then, you let your eyes wander, and then you let your mind wonder why a man as fine as himself lived all alone.
“hey,” miguel said, waving you over. “you’re home early.”
“so are you,” you replied, shocked that he was home. this was a man that worked a typical nine-to-five, so he should have been gone longer than you, technically speaking. though he did tend to disappear often. “i admit i was a little curious when i saw your car still parked when i went to drop meadow off.”
“off day,” was all miguel said, flashing you a full set of teeth. jesus fucking christ, this man had a mesmerizing smile. “what are your plans for today, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“oh, you know. just catching up on sleep and throwing something on the stove,” you told him offhandedly. like any other working individual on their day off, you just wanted to rest. “there’s nothing like a nap on a full stomach. what about you?”
miguel rubbed his nape. “well, i was going to do some extra paperwork and some work around the house, but your plan sounds better than mine.”
you chortled, because you couldn’t even politely disagree. “in that case, you can always come over, if you’d like. no one’s home but me and i don’t bite.”
though you didn’t realize until it was too late, miguel had gotten very close to you. you could feel his warmth on your skin, although your bodies didn’t touch. his arm was just shy of yours. “no, no. i couldn’t,” he said. 
you waved him off. “of course, you could. you’re not a parasite, miguel. we both give to each other.”
“are you sure it’s okay?”
“positive. we’re both grown adults. you don’t need anyone’s permission but mine to come over to my house, you know,” you joked.
miguel visibly mulled it over, his brows furrowed in deep thought, almost as though he thought you were going to eat him or something. but then he bobbed his head and said, “sounds like a good time.”
you broke into a smile that you hadn’t made in years, leading miguel to your house. ironically, it was the first time he had been inside. you hadn’t had any indoor issues that you or lani couldn’t take care of on your own so far, which meant he stuck to yardwork. foolishly, you were a little nervous.
“tidy,” miguel remarked while he followed you to your kitchen. you didn’t see the way he smiled at the tiny pairs of shoes on the rack in the foyer. he noticed that there were a lot of pictures of meadow hanging around, ranging from when she was a mere infant until now.
“very. thank god for lani. i used to think i was a good, but that woman is a different breed of clean,” you said after washing your hands, grabbing a bunch of ingredients from your cabinets and refrigerator. 
miguel observed from behind your island, leaning up against it. “you two seem very close.”
“i trust her with my life. and my daughter’s life. she’s like a sister to me,” you told him, smiling. for a split-second, miguel swore he saw something wistful. “she almost was.”
“almost?”
“almost,” you whispered, plopping a bag of peppers onto the counter. 
miguel didn’t press. if you wanted to talk about it, you would. the two of you weren’t exactly close, no matter how blurry the lines between just friends and neighbors had gotten over the years.
reading the room, miguel expertly shifted the subject, “what are you making?”
the stars were back in your eyes as you gushed, “it’s a family recipe. my mother used to make it all the time. i feel bad now for complaining about how much she did when i was a kid. it’s mouthwatering perfection.” you deliberately left out the part that you felt bad because you would never get the chance to eat her food again.
“i hear you,” miguel replied, watching you cut the peppers. he didn’t like how sharp the knife was. “let me help.”
you brushed him off. “it’s fine. sit down.”
“i wasn’t asking,” miguel said sternly, his feet already moving. 
you blinked. “oh. okay.”
miguel maneuvered around the island, grabbing your waist while he walked past you, which admittedly made butterflies flutter in your gut. you chided them, begging them to keep the excitement to a minimum, but it was no use when you saw miguel had rolled up his sleeves and taken the knife out of your hands.
you pretended to look at the vegetables, though it couldn’t have been more obvious that you were watching his bare, exposed forearms and the taut muscles tense with his every movement. then, reminding yourself that there were other things you could have been doing, you tried to concentrate on the meat.
absentmindedly working, your thoughts were still on his arms, though for more chaste reasons. there were some lingering scratches on his skin, like he’d gotten into a fight or two. you wondered if he was taking care of himself. 
something particularly paralyzing hit you when you realized that that was all you could do - wonder. you didn’t really know miguel, nor did he know you, and you had long convinced yourself that it was better that way. you kept your family a distance from others until they bared their souls to you.
miguel was different. there was an air of familiarity to his presence. like he had half a soul that was completed by yours.
after forty minutes of what felt like reckless conversation featuring the two of you cooking instead of the other way around, lunch was ready and it was noon. you offered miguel wine and chattered over a meal and through your wine drunk haze. 
good thing he only lived next door.
“you know, you cook the best food i’ve ever tasted,” miguel told you, not a single sign of insincerity on his face. 
you perked up, glancing at him from across the dining table. what a kind gentleman he had been, refusing to let you set the table. or carry the dishes over. “really?”
“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it,” he said. “such great flavor.”
“thanks,” you chirped, breaking into a broadening grin. “i’ve been hoping to pass it down to meadow so that the legacy doesn’t die. she loves watching me cook. her grandmother would be proud.”
miguel cocked a brow. “no other family?”
you shook your head, fidgeting with the near-empty wine glass now that you’d finished your meals. “nope. my mother was single, my father is god knows where, so it was just me and her for the longest. and you know how i said lani was almost my sister?”
“mm-hm,” miguel hummed, brows furrowed as a sign he was listening deeply. 
you sucked in a breath. you had never admitted this to anyone before. “she was my fiancé’s sister. he, uh, yeah. work incident. six years ago.”
miguel’s features softened, the ache on your face conspicuous. hurt recognized hurt. he grabbed your hand from underneath the table, gave it a gentle squeeze, and said, “i’m sorry that happened.” 
“me, too,” you mumbled.
you deliberately left out the part that you were involved in that incident. it was a dinner at alchemax with the man you were about to start a family with and his boss, who had sent the rest of the company home. you wished you would have seen it coming, wished you would have known your drinks were spiked before your almost husband sipped from that glass.
the dosage had killed him, but mutated your dna. you should have died. it was a miracle your unborn baby at the time survived. instead, you turned into a shape-shifting entity, a mere test subject.
though there weren’t any signs, you were always wary, wondering if meadow had been affected by the dosage, but the doctors declared her very healthy at birth and during checkups.
“i lost my family, too,” miguel confessed, much to your and his mutual surprise. “i wasn’t always a lonely old man. i had a wife and a daughter.”
that piqued your interest. “have you looked again?”
“have you?”
that was fair. “no,” you said. not particularly, came a voice in your head, but you didn’t let it speak. “mainly because i have a daughter. i’m careful who i bring into her life. and with work, i don’t have the time to do background checks on who i date.”
“you’re a good mother,” miguel said after a moment or two. “meadow is lucky to have you.”
you smiled gently. “i like to think so.”
minutes of conversation turned into hours with miguel, but you didn’t forgo your plans of napping. almost the second you put on the movie, both of you were fast asleep, your head on his shoulder. 
when you woke up again, your head had fallen to his chest and his arm was tightly secured around your waist like a seatbelt. it wasn’t time to pick up meadow, you had set a time just in case you got a little too distracted, but you noticed a text from lani insisting that she would drop your daughter off since she was in the area of her school and wanted you to rest.
for a little while, you let yourself wallow in the feeling of miguel’s warmth and the sound of his soft snores. it wasn’t very often that you actually let yourself enjoy things.
you were too paranoid. too vigilant. it was nice to put your guard down for a second.
the doorbell rang after a while and you felt miguel’s arm flex protectively around you. he was awake.
“it’s lani. she dropped off meadow,” you whispered, feeling his protective grip slacken. your heart fluttered at how instinctively cautious he was over you.
standing to your feet, you opened the door and greeted your daughter. you made small talk with lani at the door before she said she had places to be and drove off. 
“hi, mr. o’hara,” greeted meadow when she entered the living room, plopping on the couch to watch cartoons. 
“hey, cheeto,” miguel greeted gruffly, sitting up. “you don’t have any homework to do?”
“nope,” meadow said, popping the p. “we don’t have homework on friday’s.”
“oh, silly me,” miguel said, making you poorly stifle a laugh.
meadow giggled, too. 
miguel cocked his head at you, standing beside him, leaning against the arm of the chair. “who are you laughing at?”
you raised your arms defensively. “nothing.”
“i said,” miguel started, donning a playfully monster-like tone, probably for meadow’s amusement. you gasped when he switched your positions, though he was rather gentle when he pushed you into the couch. “who are you laughing at?”
when his fingers started to dance over your skin, you couldn’t even get the words out, convulsing in a fit of giggles as he tickled you and pressed you for answers. you squirmed and writhed, laughing uncontrollably.
“meadow,” you called out for help, but she simply covered her ears and kept her eyes glued to the television screen for all the times you tickled her. but you saw her lips twitch into a mischievous grin.
there was almost tears in your ears at this point. miguel’s fingers were merciless, almost killing you with how much they made you laugh. 
“oh my god, miguel, quit it…,” you chanted, your cheeks hurting. 
“what’s the magic word?”
“stop.”
“wrong answer.”
“please,” you blurted, a line of tears rolling down your face as you writhed beneath him. “please!”
miguel let up, at last pulling back from your frame as your chest heaved and you tried to catch your breath. meadow lifted up her hand and high-fived miguel, both of them looking like nothing but trouble.
miguel plopped back on the couch, asking, “are you okay?”
“i almost pee’d myself,” you admitted through ragged breaths. 
both miguel and meadow laughed. 
once you could breathe again, you called meadow into the kitchen for an after school snack since she insisted that she wasn’t very hungry. “mom,” she called out, standing beside you. “a boy told me he liked me at school today.”
any other parent would have had a heart attack, but you knew your daughter well enough, and asked expectantly, “and what did you say?”
“that he’s icky,” she told you with a straight face. 
you snickered in amusement. “atta girl.”
“do you like mr. o’hara?”
now that almost gave you a heart attack, but you feigned some kind of semblance of calm, asking, “what makes you think that?”
“it just looks like it,” meadow chirped, but she was quick to get distracted by the snacks in the pantry and asked for a blueberry muffin.
but that was the million dollar question. did you like miguel o’hara?
THE NEXT DAY IN DOWNTOWN BROOKLYN…
“it’s about time you got here,” was the first thing hobie said when you arrived at the warehouse.
the abandoned warehouse was rusty and run-down, and it wasn’t too much of a leap to make that it hadn’t been used in years. you swore you saw a critter scurry away upon your entrance.
“hello to you too, hobie,” you greeted levelly. “cutting to the chase, where’s michael fontana? you didn’t leave a live body alone, did you?”
hobie scoffed, “ay, do i look like an amateur to you? follow my lead.”
you followed hobie through the warehouse littered with clutter, boxes cast aside that were presumably filled with old junk and spiders. the job was supposed to easy. tie the guy up, press him for answers, and relay the information. it could have been a one-person job, but your boss preferred having multiple witnesses.
hobie’s fingers curled around a doorknob, turning it and pushing the door open. but the room was void of life. your brows furrowed, glancing up at hobie, uttering, “there’s nobody here…”
you screamed when you felt somebody grab you from behind, assuming it was an escaped michael fontana. this is why you don’t hire nineteen-year-olds, you thought grumpily to yourself.
struggling in his arms, you shouted to your partner, “hobie, the gun!”
hobie didn’t move a muscle, much to your shock, shooting you an apologetic wince. “sorry, mate. it’s nothing personal. i actually like you,” he said. “but boss’ order.”
you glanced back, the sting of brutal betrayal settling in with the mind-numbing realization that the person grabbing you wasn’t michael fontana.
before you could shapeshift, you felt a needle poke your arm and hissed, just a grand total of seconds before your body went slack and the world around you vanished.
when you regained consciousness, the first thing you noticed was how bright it was in whatever room you were in, sunlight filtering through the blinds. the second thing you noticed was that your hands were cuffed behind the back of whatever chair you were now sitting in, followed by the pain flaring through your right arm. 
glancing around, you opened your winced eyes. an interrogation room with an outdoor window. that was a first.
“she’s awake!” you heard someone calling out, craning your head to spot two teenagers. if you had to guess, they didn’t look over seventeen. the boy waved, but the girl tugged his hand back down.
they must have heard someone coming, but they moved out of the way, letting them cross the threshold between their room and yours, the door already open. like they knew for certain that there was no way you could escape.
spider-man came to sit in front of you, across from you. your last memory was of him standing behind you. you narrowed your eyes, sneering, “you.”
you didn’t wonder how he knew who you are, remembering hobie had betrayed you. he must have been ratting you out for the longest. marsai had been looking into how spider-man seemingly always knew when and where you’d strike, but found nothing. you guessed you had your answer.
“not me,” spider-man said, deactivating his mask. “me.”
shock paralyzed you, not that you could move very much in the first place. this had to be some kind of dream. or, better yet, a nightmare. “miguel?” you gasped.
it all made sense now. the disappearances at random hours of the day and ungodly hours of the night. the scratches and bruises you sometimes noticed on his skin, and lord knows you hadn’t even seen half of them. it was because he was out fighting evil, out fighting you. 
“i’m not your enemy,” miguel said, his voice stern like it had been in your kitchen.
“yes, because only my ally would set me up, drug me, and cuff me to a chair,” you droned, voice dripping with sarcasm.
you shifted as much as you could,  uncomfortable at the thought of being drugged. the last time it happened, you lost a fiancé, the future you always wanted, and - on the brink of death - turned into a shape-shifting creature. you were also a little hurt, not that you would show it on the surface. you’d trusted miguel, even liked him, much to your daughter’s suspicion.
wondering how long he knew was even more maddening. this man was posing as your kind next-door neighbor all the while knowing where you were and what you did when you left your home everyday. and all of it was for what - to capture you and cage you like an animal?
miguel lolled his neck. you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, weighing him down. “it was for your own good. you would have tried to shapeshift and get away from me, no?”
you chewed your lip, saying nothing. you didn’t want to admit that he was right. much to miguel’s amusement. 
“about that,” came one of the two teenagers, the boy, you noticed. “we really wanted to ask you about being a shapeshifter. i mean, that’s so cool. i’ve never met a shapeshifter before.”
“most people haven’t, kid,” you said stiffly. “who are you two?”
“i’m miles morales,” the boy introduced himself, stretching out his hand for you to shake. 
wiggling your fingers behind your back, you droned, “my hands are kinda tied here, kid. literally.”
miles made a face, immediately rushing to uncuff you after miguel unceremoniously tossed him the key. 
“i’m gwen stacy,” the girl said as your cuffs slackened and your hands were freed. “can you please tell us what it’s like to be a shapeshifter?”
“no, no, and no,” miguel said for you, clearly against the idea for whatever reason. 
“but why?” gwen pressed. then, an idea hit her and she looked to you, continuing, “miguel didn’t mean any harm. he has a good reason for doing all of this.”
“i’d sure like to hear it,” you mumbled under your breath.
“miguel hasn’t really told us, either,” miles added. “i mean, i thought-”
gwen covered miles’ mouth before he could say anything that would undo and hender their progress and convincing either you or miguel. 
from the looks if it, though, miguel was unimpressed to begin with, a blank look on his face. “whatever you’re trying to do, gwen, it’s not working.”
“it’s her choice,” gwen reminded, returning her attention to you and clasping her hands together against her chest. “please, please, please? we won’t bother you ever again.”
you glanced at miguel, who was glancing at you, both of you trying to read each other. there seemed to be a telepathic communication going on between you both before miguel visibly relented and you said, “alright, fine. go ahead. shoot.”
“can you shapeshift into anything?”
“animals and other humans, but not objects. and only living things that i’ve stored dna from.”
“do your senses get enhanced, like superhuman?”
“my senses depend on whatever - or whoever - i’m inhabiting,” you explained. “like, if i were to shapeshift into a bat, my hearing would be keener. but when it comes to humans, i only don their appearance.”
“do you have weaknesses?”
“next question,” you mumbled. of course, you did. your abilities were impaired when you were sick or injured, and downright disarmed it you consumed or came into close contact with something that you were allergic to. it was your kryptonite, not that anyone needed to know that.
“how long can you stay in shapeshifting form?”
“depends on my health.”
“alright, that’s enough,” miguel said. “both of you. out.”
strangely enough, miles and gwen didn’t argue, seemingly content with your answers. they bid you goodbye and left the room chattering amongst themselves.
you cocked your head, meeting miguel’s stare. “well, cap, what’s your motive?”
miguel got comfortable in his chair, like he was about to give you a monologue. “you’ve been on our radar since you mutated. i was going to just lock you up and throw you with the others at first, since i assumed you were hurting innocent people.”
“you think daddy’s boy and his family are innocent?” you asked with a hint of amusement. 
“rodney malone-fisk?” 
you groaned at that name. “you call him rodney. i call him a spoiled brat.”
“i know what his family did to you. what they took from you,” miguel started, making all the blood drain from your face. “your fiancé didn’t just die in a work incident. he was killed as a lab rat. fisk was trying to test out a mix that would grant him dimension-traveling abilities but it ended up being a shape-shifting solution instead. you were supposed to die, too, but the dosages weren’t measured properly.”
you said nothing. there was nothing that you could say. just thinking about it made tears sting your eyes.
miguel grabbed your hand over the table, squeezed it like he had the other day. there was tenderness he had for you that he hadn’t felt in a long time. you understood him. “you know why i asked if you had the chance to be something better, would you take it? because i know that you’re more than this. you’re not a bad person. you just do bad things to survive.”
“i can’t,” you whispered, swatting his hand away. “everything i touch, i destroy.”
that miguel understood on levels he didn’t want to nor care to admit.
you fought the tears with all your might. after your fiancé died, you lost everything you had. except for your family. you had meadow and lani and built a safe haven for them from the ground up, swearing to protect them with your whole heart.
“i want to give you that chance,” miguel said stoically. “on a silver platter. i want you to join us.”
your eyes flickered. “join you? to do what?”
“you obviously have useful skill that could be put to better use. but kingpin and his son are going to destroy your universe as you know it if nobody stops him. and if anyone deserves to take him down, it’s you.”
that got your attention. kingpin wanted to destroy the universe? your fiancé always talked about his boss wanting to cross different dimensions, but you never thought it was humanly possible.
though considering you could shapeshift, you figured anything was possible nowadays. but your major concern was your daughter, your eyes widening with the realization that you should have been with her already. you could feel a tingle, sensing that something just wasn’t right. 
you didn’t say a word as you immediately hopped to your feet and ran out of the door, miguel immediately giving chase, but you ultimately disappeared into a crowd of spider-people and although it couldn’t have been too hard to differentiate you from them, you were already on the loose.
running as fast as you could, you didn’t stop, although you didn’t really know where you were going and with all the many spider-people roaming around that resembled each other, it felt as though you were running in circles.
then, you came face-to-face with hobie, and scowled.
“move,” you hissed. 
hobie called out your name. “ay, mate, no hard feelings.”
“all the feelings i have for you right now are hard,” you snarled, pushing past him. you would be affording miguel the same amount of animosity when you were certain your daughter was safely in your arms. right now, he was in your way, and anyone stopping you from being with your kid was going to be met with a snappy attitude.
“wait,” hobie called out behind you. 
you turning around, pointing an accusing finger towards him, and snapped, “i was supposed to be back with my child by now and because of you i’m not. so unless you’re going to help me get to her, i suggest you move out of my way.”
“that guy sucks anyway,” hobie said, not having to even think about which option he preferred. “follow me.”
you hesitated, because he was the whole reason that you were even here, but eventually followed him down the hallway, careful to move quiet and stealthily. you were also wary that it could be trap, but truth be told, you had no other way out.
though you probably should have questioned how or why it was so many of them, that was the last thing on your mind. lani was probably worried sick about you. you didn’t have a clue what time it was, but it didn’t take a genius to know that hours had passed, and you said you would be home way before now. 
the hall broadened towards its end where you saw a gathering of spider-people, all looking like they were scouting somebody out. “blast, he’s got them looking for you,” hobie grumbled under his breath. he walked you back around a corner and handed you something around his wrist. “here, take this.”
“what the hell is that?”
“it’s a wristband. it’ll open a portal to your universe. but you’ve gotta go now,” hobie explained, tapping some kind of button. 
you were more than a little surprised when an orange warp portal opened.
“go,” hobie said, glancing around for anybody. “i’ve got your six.”
hearing footsteps approaching, you neared the portal and almost entered, but there was a gnawing question that you couldn’t ignore. you whipped around, asking, “where do your loyalties lie?”
“in myself,” hobie answered without a second of hesitation. “and in the people that mean the most to me.”
you scoffed. “what happened to boss’ order?”
“i’m my own boss. that was in your best interest,” hobie replied, leaning against the wall. “c’mon. get outta here.”
turning around, you sucked in a breath, and walked through that portal. 
BACK IN BROOKLYN…
you returned right back at your house, just near the road. glancing around, nothing looked too out of the ordinary. lani’s car was parked in the driveway, meaning she had to have been there. didn’t she?
running to your house with all of your speed, you prepared to search yourself for your keys, only for your heart to drop when you realized that the door was already wide open.
heart racing, you burst through the foyer, and the first thing you saw when you entered your living room was lani sprawled out on the floor, a puddle of blood beneath her. 
“lani,” you gasped out, crouching down beside her. 
lani’s eyes were fluttering, a tremble in her weak voice as she whispered, “i tried to stop them.”
“stop who?” you asked, trying to stop the blood flow. she had been shot, lying here for only god knew how long. you threw off your jacket and pressed it to her gut, apologizing when she winced out in pain. 
“kingpin’s men,” she croaked. “they took meadow. they want you.”
you gritted your teeth, bristling with anger. hadn’t that man taken enough from you? you let him get away with killing your fiancé, but your daughter was crossing the line and you’d show him the mistake he’d made. even if it cost you everything. “where?” you asked. 
lani lifted up her arm, and that was when you noticed that it was also coated in blood, but there were symbols carved into her skin. 
it was the symbol of an abandoned alchemax building.
“go,” lani said, tensing as though it took all of her strength to say that one syllable. your fingers were clenched into fists. you would kill everyone involved with your bare hands if you had to. 
“no,” you balked, shaking your head. “i can’t leave you like this.”
lani grabbed your hand, lacing her fingers through yours. “your daughter is more important.”
thinking about what they could have been doing to meadow right now made you shudder with a fear you had never felt before. 
“i’ll take her to a hospital,” came a voice from behind you. you turned immediately, recognizing it. there stood miguel, still clad in his spider-man suit. “go save your daughter. i’ve already sent the team.”
you stood, coming face-to-face with miguel, and hissed, “if anything happens to her…”
“i know,” miguel said, as if he understood you wholeheartedly. “go.”
miguel scooped lani up into his arms, and it hurt you when she hissed in pain. you turned to her. “i’ll come back for you.”
lani smiled weakly. “i know you will.”
and with that, you were out the door, shapeshifting into your signature raven and flying across town.
the abandoned alchemax wasn’t exactly old. it was the building where your fiancé was killed and they covered up the incident as the result of faulty equipment, which ultimately led them to build an entirely new facility. you landed on top of the building that somehow hadn’t been demolished yet, transforming back into yourself when your feet were against the ground.
there wasn’t really an entrance all the way up here. the rooftop door was blocked and bolted as preventative measures. guess i’ve got to make my own door, you told yourself, undeterred.
spotting a stray piece of metal debris, you wielded the pipe in your hands. there was always the option of the lower-level entrances, if you wanted to get caught immediately. kingpin’s men were probably staking the place out, waiting to ambush.
you stepped back, holding the pipe, and charged towards the door as you shattered the window open, glass shards flying everywhere. cautiously stepping over the glass, you fitted your way through the gap you’d created, craning your head downwards until your feet plopped against the floor.
you were in. 
there were two halls on either side of you and though you didn’t really know which one went where, you followed your gut and took the path to your right.
the whole place was eerily dark and empty. duh, it’s abandoned, you cogitated. not that it made things any better. all you could hear was yourself, your own feet against the cold floor, though it would be naive to believe you were truly alone.
someone was here. kingpin’s men were everywhere but nowhere at the same time, waiting for you to make yourself known. and miguel had told you that he sent the team that should have been here by now, making you wonder how they got in and if they’d been detected.
you couldn’t explain it, but it felt like you were being watched, like there was somebody on your heels ready to strike you in your back when you least expected it. though to be honest, you always felt that way. always alert. never safe.
what you would give to live in peace again, to rest your heart and mind even for just a second. but you couldn’t afford not to be careful, not when you had a daughter to live for.
walking by a door, you cried out in shock when somebody grabbed your arm in pulling you inside, instinctively shapeshifting into a venomous creature, but withdrawing when you saw that it was only hobie and his friends.
“i almost killed you,” you hissed to him after donning your normal appearance again.
hobie threw his hands off, feigning innocence. 
there were two people you didn’t recognize tagging along with them. gwen shut the door, while a lady approached you, introducing, “i’m jessica. i work with miguel. and listen, we really need your help.”
your brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”
“kingpin’s making this weird space-traveling machine that’s really a doom machine because he’s gonna kill everyone,” some kid rambled. “oh, i’m pavitr.”
miles looked surprised, like nobody told him what was going on, and asked, “you got evil kingpin in your universe, too?”
“unfortunately,” you mumbled. 
“he’s out of control. he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” gwen told you frantically. “we’re making a device that will deactivate the accelerator but it’s taking some time.”
“so what?” you asked, trying to get to the point. “you want me to stall him?”
“he’s got cheeto,” hobie reminded. “there ain’t no telling what he’ll do to her if somebody doesn’t stop him.”
you gritted your teeth, filled with unadulterated rage. god, you felt murderous. you tried to speak levelly, “so, what’s the plan?”
“we split up into pairs,” jessica said. “we find where he has the accelerator. that’s where he’s keeping your daughter.”
hobie declared, “i dibs miles.”
miles didn’t protest. jessica insisted it was best if the younger ones were supervised, so she volunteered to take pavitr and the device that they were cooking. which left you with gwen. “guess it’s just you and me, kid,” you said, stepping out of the room.
“i think it’s really cool that you can shapeshift,” gwen told you while you stealthily crept down a hall with her. “i mean, it sucks how it happened to you, but…”
“shh,” you whispered, tugging her behind a wall. she seemed surprised, but then she heard the footsteps, too.
someone was coming.
“i’m gonna do something really weird,” you told her lowly. “and i need you to play along.”
“what are you…”
you shapeshifted into kingpin. 
“oh my god. that is really weird,” gwen mumbled. 
you grabbed her arm none too gently, reminding her to play along, and approached the man that was working for kingpin. “found this one lurking around.”
“i knew i heard something from over here,” the guy said, shooting gwen a scowl. “you want me to take her off your hands, boss?”
“take her to the accelerator. now,” you ordered, handing gwen over, who was doing a good job at looking dejected. “i’ll follow behind.”
the man didn’t hesitate to follow orders, leading you to the room where the accelerator was. that was far too easy. 
it was a lot of walking. apparently the accelerator was at the very bottom of the building, beneath the first floor, heavily guarded by kingpin’s men. it was a good thing you were wearing something even better than a hyper realistic costume.
the room was white and starkly bright compared to every other inch of the place, though all of that could be chalked up to the fact that it was the only room in the whole building currently using energy. and lots of it, too.
when you finally saw your daughter sitting in a small cage above the accelerator, between bars like an animal, you almost killed everyone in the room. instead, you kept your cool, ordering the dude to unhand gwen.
“anything else, boss?”
just as you opened your mouth to speak, the unimaginable happened. the door swung open, revealing the real kingpin, who seemed more than baffled when he saw you standing there. until it hit him that he knew of a shapeshifter. 
“you fool,” kingpin bellowed, glaring at the man. “that’s her!”
“fuck,” you swore under your breath. 
the man turned to you, watching you visibly break into a sweat, and called out, “hey, you’re not my boss!”
that cry got the attention of everyone in the room, all of kingpin’s very armed men. you gave gwen a look and shouted, “now!”
gwen started to shoot webs, restraining men that turned to put their weapons on you, and you shapeshifted into a wolf, attacking the man that had been under the impression that you were his boss until he was nothing but a bloody course. 
and the cycle repeated. kingpin ordered more of his men to move in and attack you, keeping his distance seeing as you were currently in a form of a wolf that could bite his head off if she so pleased. some of his men took him somewhere else in the room, away from you, and crowded him defensively. 
all the while, your five-year-old daughter was watching. she was almost six, and she was brilliant, and she was watching you attack with something that surprisingly wasn’t fear. almost like she thought she was watching a movie of some sorts, anticipating the next scene.
you were trying to get to her, but kingpin had made it so that if you really wanted to, you would have to get through him first.
blood quickly started to pool around and it wasn’t yours. there were bodies everywhere, dropping like flies. though you desperately wanted to cover your daughter’s eyes and spare her from the horror of seeing multiple people die at your hands in real time, you were in too deep of a rage to stop and nothing would keep you from fighting.
then, it happened. you didn’t move quick enough. the bullet tore right through you, making you howl out, and you glitched back into your true form. the wound was there, blood dripping around your calf.
gwen gasped, coming to your side, but she was caught and forcibly restrained. 
“mom!” meadow cried out, gripping the metal cage bars. 
kingpin cackled in amusement. “bravo, bravo. you know, i really do have to applaud the show you put on right there. this could have been painless if you would have just complied.”
“let my daughter go,” you snarled with vitriol. 
“i will,” kingpin said, like she was the most insignificant part of this little scheme of his. “after you give me what i want.
“what don’t you understand? i don’t have anything,” you shouted, fingers reaching to your wound and becoming stained in your own blood. “you took everything from me!”
“the code, woman. what’s the code?” kingpin hissed. “your fiancé was working on it. he cracked it. the code to the accelerator.”
for a second, you genuinely had no idea what he was talking about, until it hit you. your fiancé talked at length about a device at work that he’d been programming under his boss’ order, but he wanted to sabotage it. he said that it was unsafe. that kingpin didn’t realize the mistake he was making. it was an underdeveloped device that could destroy the whole planet.
you quickly realized he’d been talking about the accelerator. he’d worked many long days and nights on it and still thought that it wasn’t ready for use. that was what kingpin had been developing for all these years, completing your fiancé’s unfinished business.
“damn that code,” you snapped irritably.
kingpin was furious, and started to ramble, “your fiancé died at his own hand. he signed a contract. it isn’t my fault that the mix killed him, but if you don’t telling me everything i need to know about this damn machine, i’ll kill you and i’ll kill-”
“boss,” interjected one of kingpin’s men. 
“don’t you hear me speaking?” roared kingpin. 
“but boss, the baby,” the man started. “she’s gone.”
kingpin’s eyes flitted up to the cage, immediately noticing the absence of your five-year-old daughter. “what? how did she escape? what did you do?”
“i didn’t do anything, boss, i swear! i…”
the man’s words interrupted by a blood-curdling cry as a small but ferocious animal attacked him to the ground.
it was a baby wolf. and more importantly, it was your baby.
“capture that thing!” roared kingpin. 
not on your watch. you mustered the strength to rise to your feet, snatching a gun out of the man closest to you and briefly knocking him out with it just before doing a complete three-sixty and shooting in every direction.
all the while, meadow was agile and too quick on her feet, and it didn’t hurt that she was super tiny. you jogged over to gwen, wincing as you limped over, dropping to the ground to avoid facing the barrels of guns and shooting at the men that were restraining her.
gwen wiggled her arm, probably sore from how tightly they were holding her. “thanks.”
“thank me later,” you said, panting for breath.
“wait!” gwen called out behind you. “you’re hurt. can you still shift?”
you exhaled a sigh. “remember when you asked me about my weaknesses?”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
when you turned around, you saw meadow still kicking ass. just a second later, one of kingpin’s men grabbed her and your maternal instincts immediately kicked in, ignoring all of your pain and suffering to parade over there and take action.
it was like you blacked out. you didn’t even know what happened. one second, you were marching over there, and the next, meadow was safely in your arms and the guy that had dared to lay his bare hands on her was floored with more than a couple of broken bones and was certainly no longer breathing.
“are you okay?” you asked, cradling her to your bosom. 
meadow nodded, nestling closer to you. you were almost elated to tears, unable to describe the relief you felt knowing that she was okay. though it was a shock, you were pleasantly surprised that she had inherited your ability. 
worried, but pleasantly surprised.
“do i need to make any other examples of what happens when you come between a mother and her child?” you shouted out, watching a couple of men cower.
in the next second, there was another shattering noise, like the one when you broke into the building through the window. and then you quickly realized that it was a window being smashed into, fractured glass pelting everywhere.
there was a blur of blue and red, but you still recognized it, especially when the intruder’s feet skidded across multiple faces, successfully knocking them out, until he dropped his red string and came to a land before you.
“miguel,” you gasped, more than a little surprised.
“lani is fine. they said she’ll make it,” he said, knowing that you would ask. that was what was most important to you right now. “i didn’t leave her alone. her mother came.”
you nodded, content with that. you weren’t on speaking terms with lani’s mother - she’d never liked you - but you knew she cared for her children deeply and that was all that mattered in that moment.
“oh, how sweet. a reunion,” kingpin barked sarcastically, looking at you both with pure hatred.
miguel’s jaw clenched noticing your injured form, and he immediately caged you and your daughter behind him, bellowing back, “we can either make this really easy or really hard.”
kingpin cackled. “hilarious! i was thinking the same thing.”
miguel growled, reaching for the person nearest to him, and you covered meadow’s eyes when he went to rip them to literal shreds. she had shapeshifted back to normal now, still as tiny as ever, though.
dropping the guy’s remains, miguel glanced around, red eyes making contact with the startled ones of kingpin’s men. he didn’t have to say anything else. they all immediately surrendered, even the ones intended to be defending kingpin. 
“you know, good help is really hard to find these days,” kingpin groaned.
“save it, doucheface,” gwen said, swooping in to wrap him in her webs.
the doors burst open, revealing jessica and pavitr holding an orange, radiating deactivator, followed by hobie and miles.
jessica gave a nod. “it’s ready.”
“catch!” exclaimed pavitr, throwing the device in the air. 
you caught it in your hands. if anybody deserved to destroy this machine, it was you. and you wanted to do it with kingpin helplessly watching, just like how you watched your fiancé die in front of your own eyes, unable to help.
“say goodbye to this piece of shit, kingpin,” you taunted, handing meadow over to miguel as you approached the accelerator. 
“no!” kingpin roared, restlessly flailing in his restraints, but to no avail. 
nothing felt as satisfying as when you latched the deactivator on the accelerator. the whole machine started to groan, jerking in place, and you backed away. the surface started to crystallize and you watched in pure uncertainty of if this was even going to work. 
for a whole minute, the entire room was deadly silent, only watching. like nobody could tell if it was starting up or breaking down. then, it started to ebb out, atom by atom.
piece by fucking piece.
“it’s over!” gwen exclaimed. 
you bobbed your head. it really was over. this was closure.
“i’ll handle him,” jess volunteered with a sigh, throwing kingpin an unimpressed look before glancing between you and miguel. “y’all got things to hash out.”
you avoided miguel’s eyes.
THE SEVENTH FLOOR OF BROOKLYN HOSPITAL…
it felt like hours that you were waiting inside the hospital lobby, so the second that the nurse came up to you and told you that lani was finally available for visiting, you politely thanked her and attempted to rush the whole way to her room with meadow in yours arms.
“lani,” you exhaled when you opened the door to her room. 
“hi,” lani rasped. she was hooked to lots of different things, paler than usual. though, to be fair, she did almost die. meadow rushed over, handing her a bouquet. “oh, wow, are these for me?”
meadow bobbed her head, beaming proudly. “i picked them all by myself.”
though her every moment was obviously taxing, lani flashed a smile. “you have a great eye, meadow. how’d you know tt loves pink?”
meadow giggled. 
you stepped closer, feeling your heart warm and a tear escape your eye, but you quickly wiped it. “i’m so sorry.”
lani gave you a displeased look. “oh, quit it. this is absolutely not your fault.”
“but it is,” you insisted. “i should have known this day would come. it could have been avoided. you should have left town like your mom or...”
lani called out your name and grabbed your hand with all of her strength. “hey, hey, hey. listen to me. you are my sister and i love you so much. i don’t care what the law says or what happened and what didn’t. there is nothing that would stop me from being there for you and i’d take so many bullets for you both.”
your eyes dampened with tears. 
“it already happened. it’s over,” lani whispered. “let it go.”
you bobbed your head, squeezing her hand back. she was the strongest women you knew, though you had a feeling she would have a contrasting opinion.
meadow inspected the stitches on lani’s arm. “tt, what are you going to do about the stitches?”
lani made a face, as if to say that that was a good question. “well, that scar is for sure never going to fade away and i will indefinitely have some scientific research company’s symbol craved into my skin, but on the plus side, i ironically think i’m officially over my fear of needles. so i’ll probably get a tattoo.”
meadow’s eyes were glimmering and she looked to you. “mommy, can i get a tattoo?”
“when you’re old enough, sweetheart,” you cooed, gently patting her on the back.
meadow pouted.
you threw lani a skeptical look, scoffing, “you of all people are seriously thinking about getting a tattoo?”
“not just thinking about it. i’ve decided,” lani told you matter-of-factly. “i figured that if i could survive a knife in my skin, then a needle is nothing. it’s like i unlocked a superpower.”
you shook your head in disbelief. leave it to lani to always make something out of nothing and the best out of everything. “speaking of unlocking superpowers, you won’t believe what happened today...”
lani furrowed her brows, trying to guess, but when she saw you wiggle yours, all the pieces came into place. “no way.”
you grinned. “yes way.”
“i want to see,” lani said, glancing towards meadow. 
“she can’t do it on command yet. trust me, we tried,” you replied with a chortle. “but i saw it with my own eyes. my baby’s got a gift.”
lani breathed out a sigh of bliss. “she sure does.”
speaking of gifts, there was a knock on your door, followed by an exclamation of, “special delivery!”
you recognized that voice, and seemingly so did lani from the smile on her face. even meadow looked happy. you went to go open the door, revealing miguel, dressed in normal clothes for a change. 
he approached lani, carrying a care package that he sat on her bedside. “i hope i’m not intruding. i wanted to give you a get well soon gift. i got you some chocolates in there, by the way, but don’t eat them too soon. they make your blood sugar levels increase, i heard.”
he definitely heard that from lyla, but he wasn’t going to mention that part.
“thank you, miguel,” lani said, glimpsing through the bag. “how you’d know i love ferrero?”
“someone mentioned it in passing,” miguel said, scratching his nape. 
your heart fluttered. he remembered something that you mentioned in passing?
lani nodded in approval, ever so grateful. there were also some soft blankets in there on top of other things. “well, i appreciate it.”
“it’s no problem,” miguel responded, then he glanced towards you, an unreadable look in his eyes. “we need to talk.”
“right,” you drawled. “lead the way.”
miguel turned his back, heading for the door. before you walked out, lani mouthed to you, “he’s a keeper.”
your heart skipped a beat. 
you closed the door behind yourself, looking up to meet miguel’s eyes. “well?”
miguel kissed you. in front of all of the hospital staff roaming the halls, in front of the loose patients, but you didn’t care. all you gave a damn about was his lips on yours and the way his broad shoulders felt in your palms. it was slow and sensual, a first kiss between lovers.
nothing else mattered in that moment. you forgot all of your pain and agony, all of your fears and woes. you forgot the past because you were so deeply rooted in that moment that nothing else occurred to you anymore.
when you two parted to breathe, you jokingly rasped, “i sure like the way you speak.”
miguel chuckled, placing a hand on his hip, before he sobered. “listen to me. i know i lied to you, but i wasn’t doing it to hurt you.”
“i know,” you whispered. “i’m not mad anymore. but i’m not sorry for storming out. my baby...”
“i know,” miguel finished. like he knew the feeling. “she means the world to you. and lani.”
you nodded. 
“i’m… i’m sorry for taking you away from them. she might’ve been okay if i hadn’t,” miguel apologized, much to his own shock. you unlocked sides of him that nobody else had seen, pieces of him he didn’t even know were still there.
“it already happened. it’s over,” you whispered, as a wise woman had once told you. it was water under the bridge. “let it go.”
miguel almost seemed nervous, which was a surprise. you had literally never seen this man nervous.
grabbing his hand and inching closer to his chest, you asked softly, “did you mean it? when you said you lost your family?”
miguel swallowed. “yes. i know how it feels.”
“then you know that it’s hard,” you started, scrambling for words. “you know, reopening yourself to people. being vulnerable. becoming a slave to your feelings because you don’t want to risk getting hurt again.”
miguel was silent, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he understood you completely. 
“but i want to give it a try with you,” you said, voice hardly the frequent beeping scattered along the hospital floor. “and the team.”
miguel’s eyes widened. “you want…”
“yes,” you cut him off. “i want to be on the team. although, i’m not sure how i’ll fit in. i’m not a spider-thing after all.”
miguel groaned, “who gives a damn? i’ll change the whole name for you.”
you giggled, wrapped your hands around his waist.
miguel found himself doing the same to you, holding you as he stared at you with all the affections a man had to offer. he just couldn’t wrap his head around it, or what it meant for the two of you, but he knew you’d both figure it out. 
“miguel?”
“mm?”
“you’re always welcome to be a part of my family,” you whispered gently, voice muffled against his shirt, though he heard you loud and clear. 
miguel’s eyes fluttered closed, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go, like he’d finally found a refuge in you. somewhere where he felt safe enough to let go. “you’re a part of mine now, too.”
497 notes · View notes
stormberry-12 · 5 months
Text
faceless // P3: yes sir. negative ~ charles leclerc x reader
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader
includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n". So sorry this took so long, I've had some mega writters block and no motivation really. But I hope it's still good and thank you so much for all the kind feedback, it means a lot! &lt;3
Bold Italics are the past.
Normal Italics are thoughts.
summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
"No fucking way mate," Lando choked out his words, "Holy fuck-" 
Lando's face had never looked so shocked, he scratched the inner corner of his left eye as if he thought he was seeing something. And when his eyes focused back on you, you could see his mind filling with questions. His eyes flickered from the helmet sitting on the ground to the tears brimming in your eyes.
"Oh my god," you sobbed into your hands as your mind began to race. 
Should you run away? 
'Oh, sorry Lando, no you must have seen my celebrity doppelganger in the suit earlier. It wasn't me-"
"No wait, don't cry-" he protested, rushing over and crouching down next to you on the ground, "You're my idol, I'm like obsessed with your driving, you're frickin' amazing-"
"Oh, shut up Lando!" you snapped, instantly feeling bad for yelling in his face. He was silent for a moment, not taken aback by your outburst though. "Sorry," you whispered.
You looked up to see him scanning your face intently. "You haven't told Charles yet," he said matter-of-factly like he could read your life all of a sudden.
You shook your head.
"Who else knows?"
"Just you and Christian-"
"Heh, I'm so special,"
"Lando stop!" you cried quietly, feeling more tears forming. "You weren't supposed to find out and I'm so going to get fired for this-"
"Why would you be fired?" he asked,  "You're the driver keeping Red Bull afloat right now while Max is shittin' the bed,"
"Because. It's part of my contract that no one knows who I am,"
"Who came up with that shit?"
You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "What shit?"
"Your contract rules," he said.
"We both did. I didn't want to be in the media, I've never liked it. And Christian just agreed I guess-"
"But you and Charles were just in a video together, you've been doing media anyway," He chuckled dryly.
True.
"And you and Charles love each other, I can see it in your eyes, I don't think the media content is going to stop anytime soon. Frankly, they will ask you to do more now that you've already agreed once."
Also true.
"I understand that privacy is important to you but..."
"Yeah, I know, I know... you're right," you said, wiping tears away from under your eyes, thinking back to the tweets you had just read, "After the video went out I was expecting so much worse but nothing happened, I might need to take a chill pill."
"Maybe..." he said slowly. "And why should-"
"-I care what people on the internet think of me?" you stole the words right out of Lando's mouth, a smile growing on his face. "Charles tells me that every time I don't help with his Twitch streams,"
"Right, you're thinking like a media-trained F1 driver already!" he grinned. "Except, I don't think you're getting enough credit for your racing because you keep that helmet on all the damn time. Just one guy's opinion though,"
You hummed in response, getting lost in your own mind again.
"I won't tell a soul, I promise," He crossed his hand over his heart, "Scouts honor,"
For some reason, you felt you could trust Lando. You gave him a small smile and let your shoulders relax, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. He stood up and offered you his hand, you took it gladly and rose to your feet. "I think you should talk to Christian about it,"
"I will, thanks Lan,"
"No problem," he winked, slowly stepping away, "And for what it's worth I truly meant what I said before. You're amazing, don't let them push you around or tell you otherwise. You gotta pave the way for all the little girls out there."
That shook you to your core. 
You had never thought about your career that way and it bothered you how oblivious you had been.
How could you not realize the impact you could be making for the girls who dream of racing just like you had? Who cared what some old guy on the internet thought about women in motorsport, he needed to grow up. And you needed to make a difference. It was all sliding into place.
Also, since when had Lando been that well-spoken in his life?
After a quick 'See you on track,' you and Lando parted ways towards your respected garages. Pulling your helmet over your face, you stepped out of the alleyway and marched towards the blue and red signs of the Red Bull garage.
Christian gave you a look through your visor as you walked up to the car, you just nodded, he hated it when you were late. You climbed into the car and tried to shake the nerves out of your body, you could see a camera in your peripherals, panning the garage and landing on you. 
Pave the way Y/n.
This newfound purpose gave you anxiety but at the same time a different kind of drive to your craft. You could feel the car hum beneath you, grateful for the all-clear from the team, you exited the garage to start warming up your tires.
"Radio check, you ready for this?"
"Yep. Copy." 
Shit, that sounded forced didn't it? Why were you acting so weird? Be yourself Y/n.
"Ah, not going to humor me today? That's too bad mate," Rick chuckled.
"Don't know why but it smells like barbeque in the car,"
"You've got a problem, change your fucking carrrr,"
"No, you change your car because Checo has been saying the car is fucked-"
This had Ricky howling with laughter over the mic.
"Okay, that's enough lads." Christian stepped in, pulling the plug on you and Rick mocking him.
"Fun police..." Ricky sighed.
"I'm not a fun police, do your job Richard."
"You are a fun police, I have it on record. I hAvE it, I hAve iT pRiNteD oUt!"
"66."
"Sorry." you replied, giggling to yourself and waving back at Lando as you passed.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
"Damn it!" Charles cursed stomping towards the Ferrari garage. He had just spun out two races in a row and had to, unfortunately, retire from the race.
Walking into the garage he could feel all eyes on him as he stuffed his gloves and balaclava into his helmet angrily. A few engineers and his trainer gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he walked past, but no one dared to interact with Charles while he was this livid.
He needed y/n.
She was who he always needed after a bad race, he walked to his driver's room remembering the spin-out from his previous race hoping that y/n would actually be there this time.
"Where's y/n?"
"I don't know mate, sorry. She disappeared a while ago," an engineer named Fred shrugged.
But of course, as he opened the door she was nowhere to be found once again. Thoughts ran through his mind a hundred miles per minute
Had she always left after he got into the car and never actually watched him race?
Is he not as important to her as she made it seem?
Was she just in this for the money like a few of the girls he had been with before?
No, y/n isn't like that. He told himself, but still, he felt that pang of uncertainty in his chest. It would certainly be the reason why whenever he asked for her opinion on his performance it was almost as if she didn't remember what happened, she would just nod, smile, and agree with whatever he said.
Charles sat down on the couch and shut the door to his room. The TV had the race on and he watched the 19 remaining cars complete lap after lap. 
He couldn't watch this anymore...
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"Ohh! That was a nasty hit from Verstappen from behind- SOMEONE HAS SPUN INTO THE WALL AND IT LOOKS TO BE THE OTHER RED BULL!"
"Oh my, it is! I can tell you right now Crofty, Christian Horner is not going to be pleased about that,"
"The race has just been red-flagged and we are currently awaiting more news on the second Red Bull driver. Here's a replay, there's Max Verstappen in third and his teammate ahead of him in second."
"And Verstappen was told to hold position because both drivers were in the podium places, Max is slightly slower than his teammate with very worn tires, but he pushes them anyway and tries to go for the very forced overtake. And there it is! Now why does he swerve into his teammate?!? This is mind-boggling to me-"
Charles looked up from his phone and back to the television. A bright 66 is painted on the Red Bull that is in pieces on the edge of the track. And as the camera zooms into the smoking race car, the eerie silence in Charles's driver's room makes his chest tighten slightly.
"Oh dear, it seems we have no verbal conformation from the driver so as you can see the medical car has made it's way to the scene."
Charles watches the unconscious driver slowly get pulled from the car and layed on a stretcher right there on the side of the track. They lift the visor of his helmet and shine a light across the driver's face as their eyes flutter awake. Beautiful eyes that Charles had engraved in his brain from the moment he met her.
Tag List: @xxelin @summerslike11 @inlovewith-fictionalcharacters @trashcanrat @gramelda @magicman090909 @femalestarlord @captainbaeameric @cilliansfriend @heyheyheyggg @marvelobssesedperson
@remuslupinsbtch@callsign-scully @spermdonationcenter @ferraribabe @jjsprobablywrong @fayetheenthusiast @tillyt04 @iwouldkillformarvel @leclercsluv @deffonotab @ghosttwit @clechairluvbot @roseamongthorns13 @ravenqueen27
@compositionbook-nonnie @berryhrts @margreetribian @justcallmeelli @spacius @nonosave51 @haus-of-meme-ories @notleclerc @meadhbhcavanagh @steephanie07 @not-epc @talksoprettyjjx @marekmybeloved @elle-451 @vellicora @runway-to-my-aid @wherethefuckisthething
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skzfairyyydreamz · 6 months
Text
Gentle Love w/ Bf!Channie❣️
(listening to save you by rum.gold on repeat while reading this is highly recommended for ambience purposes). Masterlists
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Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Friends to lovers
pairing: Bestfriend/Bf!Chan x Fem!Reader
a/n: This seasonal depression got ya gurl heavily craving some form of comfort so this one was a bit self indulgent. i’ve never wrote a headcanon before but i really enjoyed making this so i hope you enjoy it too! (please give me your feedback) reblogs are super appreciated. taglist is open so lmk if you would like to be taglisted!! Lastly Thank you sm for being here; sending lots of love and big hugs to everyone who needs it right now. 🫶🏼🫂
© Skzfairyyydreamz - Plagiarism is a crime. Do not repost, alter, translate or copy without my consent.
Bestfriend!Channie who settled with his unrequited love for you bc there was nobody else who could ever compare to you & nobody else he had eyes for.
Bestfriend!Channie who always had to love you from a distance bc he just didn’t have it in him to confess and potentially ruin something that was so special to him.
Bestfriend!Channie who had to sit back and watch you love shitty men who didn’t deserve you.
Bestfriend!Channie Who watched you cry over men who didn’t even deserve to be in your presence in the slightest. 
Bestfriend!Channie who helped you through each heartbreak bc there was never a time that he wasn’t there when you needed him. 
Bestfriend!Channie who knew in his heart that there was absolutely nobody that could ever love you better than he, bc he knew you better than anyone else in the world.
Bestfriend!Channie who finally worked up the courage to tell you how madly in love with you he was and always has been (with the help of your mother ofc; she saw the way he looked at you with the whole galaxy in his eyes and had always wanted you two to be together. Mama always knows best!) 
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Bf!Channie who loves you with every bone in his body and every fiber of his being.
Bf!Channie who just wants to save you. Save you from all your past love traumas and mend your heart. 
Bf!Channie who helps you on your healing journey. 
Bf!Channie who shows you all the gentle, soft love in the world, bc its what you’ve always deserved.
Bf!Channie who makes it his business to give you the best of everything and stands on that. 
Bf!Channie who always puts you first. Before anything and anyone. 
Bf!Channie who does his best to learn and indulge you in ALL of your love languages. 
Bf!Channie who never fails to treat you like a princess, a queen, a goddess and more. 
Bf!Channie who will tie your shoes for you and slap your hand when you try to open doors on your own. “Don’t you ever reach for a doorknob in my presence, thank you very much!” as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head in a playful disbelief. 
Bf!Channie who will take off a week of work if you’re sick just to nurse you back to health regardless of your protesting. 
Bf!Channie who is always showing you off, rolling out the red carpet no matter who’s around. 
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Bf!Channie who refuses to let either of you go to sleep upset at each other. bc he just cherishes you and prioritizes the importance of communication in your relationship that much. (he’s honestly such a king) 
Bf!Channie who is always calm and gentle with you; attentive to your feelings even mid argument.
Bf!Channie who takes interest in/ learns about all your hobbies and things that you are passionate about bc seeing you happy, makes him even happier. 
Bf!Channie who is so fond of your family and siblings. he has great relationships with all your family members and will never miss a single family gathering regardless to his busy schedule and idol life. 
Bf!Channie who hates to see you hurting or in pain. With teary eyes he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you “Princess You know i’d take this pain for you in a heartbeat if i could!” whether it be a broken bone, killer period cramps or even something as simple as a paper cut or a headache. His chest is heavy knowing there isn’t much he can do to comfort you and stop you from feeling any physical pain or discomfort. (i’m literally on the verge of sobbing, not me making myself emotional half way through writing this some one please send help 😭) 
Bf!Channie who is such an amazing listener. whether you are ranting about a horrible day at work or having a transparent moment about the current state of your mental health. He listens super attentively, giving you his undivided attention. Never breaking eye contact, He’ll hold both your hands in his occasionally leaving gentle reassuring kisses to your knuckles as you sit on your bed cross legged in front of each other. (this is so so so boyfie channie coded nobody talk to me im sobbing 😭) 
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Bf!Channie who loves to take you on romantic night walks through the city. it has been your thing for years even before you two started dating. 
Bf!Channie who always invites you to join him on his late nights at the studio bc he just wants you to be near him. Even tho you are quite literally just there to sit in a reclining chair eating snacks while you rest your legs in this lap. You both are so content and cozy. He claims to work better with you around him and you absolutely adore watching your sexy producer man boyfie in his element. even if you are only staring at the side of his face for hours on end you will never turn down his offers.  
Bf!Channie who takes the sidewalk rule super seriously. there will never be a time where he will let you walk on the outside of him, always keeping you safe from any passing cars with his right arm around your shoulder, your waist or holding your hand while you walk together. 
Bf!Channie who is super protective and can be slightly possessive over the love of his life. always wanting to know your whereabouts and who you’re with; Sometimes even hiring a bodyguard for you when you are solo traveling for work or going to big modeling events when he isn’t able to attend with you. especially since you’re now well known in the public eye for being the significant other of one of 4th gens greatest! you now need to be protected and taken care of at all times (at least in his mind you do!) But You don’t blame him or ever complain bc you’ve been in pretty dangerous and traumatic situations before and thank god channie has always been there protecting you. He really has always been your knight in shining armor (shining armor being a black beanie and hoodie in his case 😂) 
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Bf!Channie who loves your natural body just the way it is. Always reassuring you that he loves all your curves and the things that make you, you. Regardless to your insecurities he always has his hands on you some type of way whether he’s playing with your hair, resting his hands on you, absentmindedly massaging your legs while you two watch a movie together or coping a full feel as he walks past you in the kitchen; squeezing a whole hand full of booty cheek 😂 his hands are always on you. It’s so obvious how attracted and madly in love with you he is. 
Bf!Channie who loves your goofiness and all the silly ways you show your affection towards him. He loves it when you’re completely yourself. absolutely adoring whenever you’re in a playful mood and you just walk up to him to give him a quick bite on the shoulder and walk away with a smile on your face. he loves it even more when you’re really hyper and you do something unhinged like asking to give him a forehead kiss but instead licking his face and running away from him in a fit of giggles before he can catch you. (which he easily does a few seconds later) 
Bf!Channie who loves your pretty brown eyes. easily zoning out sometimes getting lost in your deep eyes mid conversation which always ends up with his ears and cheeks turning a bright red color at you snapping your fingers in front of his face and the sound of your voice bringing him back from a daydream.. “Hello!?? earth to loverboy!? are you with me?? ”
Bf!Channie who loves how soft you are with him. Always touching his hands or softly grabbing one of his pinky fingers when you want to get his attention to show or tell him something. He melts into a puddle seeing how soft your eyes are for him and how your voice is always just barely above a whisper when you speak to him in the warm comfort of your home. you walking up to him while he’s relaxing or doing random things around the house, pushing a few strands of his hair out of his face or softly grabbing his chin and turning his face towards you to simply ask him if he’d like you to make him a quick snack or bring him a cold drink. it unleashes a swarm of butterflies in his tummy and makes his knees buckle every time without fail. (he never understands how something so soft and gentle drives him so crazy, he’s clearly weak in the knees for a soft dom!mommy 🥴) 
Bf!Channie who is so enchanted by your comfortable silence. You two have created such a cozy and calming atmosphere in your home. Always finding each other at random areas of the house at any random hour of the day and enjoying each other’s presence without saying a word. Bringing comfort to one another simply by just.. being. You could be catching up on a new kdrama as chan would come and lay his head in your lap for a nap, intertwining your fingers and placing your hand on his chest. And without a word you’d grab the throw blanket off the back of the sofa and put it over him so that he could sleep comfortably. the feeling of his heartbeat underneath the palm of your hand instantly bringing you a unexplainable warm fuzzy feeling. this was just something that always seemed to happen naturally for you two. this part of your relationship was like a tacit agreement. The way you would climb into channies lap and rest your head in the crook of his neck after finishing up a few house chores as he just scrolled on his phone. it was something so soothing that you both thoroughly enjoyed but never spoke on bc you simply just didn’t need to. this atmosphere you created in your home was even felt by others around you. Family and friends always telling you guys how they felt utterly safe and comfortable every time they were at your house. And that was your favorite compliment to receive as a couple. You two were made for one another.. everything just seemed to work. Truly the best of soulmates. 
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Taglist: ??? @hanniemylovelyquokka @goblinracha <;3
buy me a coffee?
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yuna542 · 1 year
Text
Connected (OT8 x reader)
Part 5 <-
Part 6
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Pairing: Lee Know x Reader
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst
Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Fingering, Dry humping, mentions of sex, pet names
Word Count: 3k
Note: Yea… What can I say? Lee Know was my first Kpop Crush, so I really put my soul into this. So hear me out: I thought since your feedback is incredible, I wanted to give you something back. If you want to you can write suggestions/requests in the comments or dm me about what you'd like to read in the parts. If I like it I will think of something and include it in the story! So feel free to tell me your dirty (or sweet) little fantasies xD
On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.
Will this passionate arrangement end your career?
"I finally want to see you dance live!", grumbled Lee Know as you emailed him his schedule for the day in the practice room.
"Maybe someday", you muttered as you skimmed over your messages.
“Stupid JYP with those stupid rules”, he sighed and you had to grin. You'd love to dance and maybe even do a livestream with Minho but the company probably wouldn't allow it. The Stream with Hyunjin was a spontaneous idea and you were sincerely happy that yet nobody from JYP had talked about it to you. You didn’t even know if they maybe had a talk with Hyunjin and you were sure, that he definitely wouldn’t tell you to protect you.
However one of the most important meetings was scheduled for this afternoon.
A meeting with a potential new sponsor and at the same time producer for the first music video of the comeback. So one of the most important meetings ever.
The first video had to work the way the guys imagined it and it was your job to make it work. It was essential that the new sponsor was on board.
To say you're nervous would be a massive understatement.
It was the first big meeting that you would have to do alone with Chan. Seungmin would also accompany you, which took some of the pressure off your shoulders. This was one thing you just couldn't mess up.
You just wanted to send Lee Know his appointments for today and skim them quick with him. The tasks consisted the meeting with a new choreographer and then discussing with DanceRacha whether their ideas for the choreography for the big video could be done as they wanted it or if they needed to work on it even more.
Hyunjin and Felix had both already written in your group chat that they were here at any moment and Jeongin was with them. As you walked into the room, Minho seemed to have been dancing all morning.
There were fine drops of sweat on his forehead and yet his skin was just glowing with freshness. Just like perfectly worked marble.
"The choreographer's name is Chun De-Jeong. His application was the most impressive and he has very good references. He sounded nice on the phone, too. But if you don't like something about him, just let me know and we'll find someone new”, you explained expertly and he smiled slightly.
"You really are the best manager we've ever had."
"I try my best", you replied, and that's when he sat down next to you on the sofa.
With that, you finished discussing his schedule as well.
"I've never seen you in a dress like that before...", he mused aloud, and right away you were tugging at the hem of the white fabric on your thigh.
"Is it too much? Do you think it would be better if I change?"
Concerned, you stroke the fine roses printed on the fabric. Directly, Lee Know shook his head, regretting his words.
"No. It's perfect. You are... It looks very cute. You look very beautiful", he said quickly, stumbling over his own words.
Actually, he couldn't take his eyes off the thin fabric the whole time, where it perfectly hugged your curves and sat firmly against your waist. Exploring your profile, Minho noticed from the moment you came in that you seemed tense and restless today.
"Hey, is everything okay?"
Quickly nodding, you shove your Ipad into your handbag next to the sofa.
"Yeah... Everything's fine. I'm just a little nervous about the meeting today."
"With that spoiled ass sponsor?"
You nodded again, kneading your hands restlessly in your lap. Carefully he puts one hand on yours and managed to cover both of your cramped hands with his.
Instead of a joke or a mean comment that you would have expected, his voice softened and he squeezed your hands reassuringly.
"You don't have to be nervous. Business people like that are often strange and not exactly sociable. They are assholes, but you're so adorable that he surely won’t refuse any of your wishes."
A worried sigh wrings itself from your throat and you finally managed to look him in the eye. Only now did he recognize the great concern on your face and moved instantly closer to you.
"What if I don't? What if I mess up and you lose a major sponsor because of me? They will fire me..."
His chocolate brown eyes seemed protective, eyeing you with such confidence that you wanted to snuggle up to him. He placed his other hand on your thigh and gently stroked it.
"You won't mess up. And even if it won't work out, we'll find another sponsor."
A soft laugh escaped you as he quoted you, and he too smiled in relief when he saw that energetic sparkle in your eyes again.
Minho was suddenly so gentle and caring in a way you had never witnessed. In front of the others, he always tried to appear tough and untouchable, always had a cheeky comment on his lips and seemed to let nothing upset him.
But right now his other side appeared. His touches were careful on your skin, as if he feared to break you and he was full of care. It’s a side of him that he reserved just for you.
You intertwined your hand with his and squeezed it gently. As you did so, your thighs were tight against each other and he gave you endless confidence with just that. He believed in you and that alone was such a big ego boost.
Your heart began to melt and your eyes were automatically on his engaging lips.
"Thank you Lino. That really helped. I didn’t know you could be so soft.”
Suddenly his facial expression changed. He looked confused, as if he had woken up from a dream, and quickly smiled again in amusement.
"That being said, you have Chan with you. He's gotten each of us out of trouble several times."
There he was again. The tough Lee Know, and he wondered to himself why he had suddenly gone so soft. It was your mere presence that made him protective. He enjoyed feeling your warm skin and seeing the happy twinkle in your beautiful eyes.
In fact, he managed to make you laugh again and it sounded better than music to his ears.
"Don't worry too much. We definitely won't give you back, kitten."
His hand squeezed your own protectively and it touched you that he dropped his walls in front of you. Without thinking, you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
You just could not have expressed your gratitude with words.
However, he froze completely and before you could pull away, he grabbed your face rougher than he wanted to. Firmly, he pulled you closer and it took you a few seconds to realise that his lips were already on yours.
Overwhelmed, you clenched your hands until you could feel his pleasant grip on your hip. The other hand was on your cheek and when you finally understood, you put all the desire and concern into the kiss.
At first he was slow, savoring every second until he took your lower lip between his teeth and let his tongue brush over it. As soon as you opened your lips a little, he pushed his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss with his whole body.
He seemed like an addict who couldn't get enough and became more and more impetuous. He tasted like a heady mix of sweet strawberries and spicy mint.
Finally he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you onto his lap, where he didn't stop licking his tongue into your mouth. Your hands went into his hair and tugged on his strands. His hands went on a ramble, pushing your dress up until he could firmly grip your ass.
A small squeak of pain escaped you as he squeezed tightly and you felt the corners of his mouth lift at your lips despite your eyes being closed.
"You even purr like a little kitten", he growled and you were completely caught in a trance of arousal and passion as he began to spread wet kisses on your collarbone. He sucked on your skin and pushed you demanding against his lap.
The little sighs and your tensed face made the blood rush between his legs and he wanted to fuck you right there against the couch. But he also loved to tease you until you would whimper and beg him to fuck you senseless. That made the painful erection in his pants much more worth it. His hand lightly brushed your thigh dangerously close to your core.
His tongue licked along your collarbone, down to your cleavage, where he slowly pulled the fabric down and worked on your soft skin so intensely with his mouth that you feared just coming from it on his lap.
The bruises Hyunjin had sucked into your skin were almost gone and Minho wanted to make sure, to mark you again so that the other members would see it. He wanted them to know that you were already his little toy and that they had to make a great effort, to get to him.
Overwhelmed, you felt his bulge feel frighteningly large beneath you and immediately you wanted to see if it was really as immense as it felt on your covered pussy. The straps of your white dress fell off your shoulders and Minho's hands kneaded the flesh on your ass so hard that you would definitely get bruises. But that only fueled the arousal in your whole body.
"Admit it, Kitten! You only put on that cute slutty dress to drive me crazy!", he murmured against your skin, and everything about him made you dizzy. A hard hiss escaped him and he looked up at you with an exited bliss in his eyes.
“Damn didn’t thought you’re so fucking needy, Baby.”
With questioning eyes you let your fingers go trough his soft hair.
“What?”
“You’re grinding on me”, he explained and kissed the heated skin of your almost bare tits.
Suddenly, you became aware of your own body, feeling him underneath you and trying to feel as much of him as you can. You feel pleasant heat spread through your body, pooling together between your legs where you were far too effected by the feeling of his erection beneath you and somehow you still couldn’t make yourself stop, even though he looked at you with a teasing smile.
“Oh god. I’m sorry”, you murmured against his neck, but then, you felt his hands wrap around your hips further, fingers digging into the side of your ass, and you realised he’s helping you guide your hips.
He smelled so good that you just couldn’t stop rolling your hips against his.
“No need to apologise. That’s so fucking hot”, he growled and pulled your chin back, to kiss you deeply, while he pushed you even further against his hard bulge.
”That’s it, there you go“, he said softly as you moan into his mouth and started to move your hips against his length and you couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering, when the only thing between your clit and his dick was the thin fabric of your clothes.
Suddenly his voice is right by your ear and snaps you out of your aroused trance, so close it sends shivers down your spine:
”You should have told me you like dry humping my dick this much. Fuck, it makes me so hard, can you feel that, kitten?“
You could just nod and get flustered by his words.
Your behaviour was so messy and desperate, even Minho started to lose himself and he kissed you as if he’s never kissed before. It’s more tongue and teeth than needed, tasting you and moaning into your mouth when your tongue meets his. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Someone could come in an catch you, how you pounce on each other like heated teenagers, but the hurried kisses make your head feel like it’s spinning.
It hasn’t been long, you know that, but you’re already started to get close. Like with Hyunjin, you felt things that you never had experienced before. There was something about these boys that made you go crazy and they definitely knew what they were doing.
Even though your underwear and his sweatpants were seperating you from feeling him, there was something so intense about this and about Minho that it hardly mattered, and you knew it won’t be long until he would get you making a mess in your panties.
Unable to keep up with how good it felt, luckily Minho still had a hold on you, and when he noticed that it’s getting more difficult for you to keep composed, he gripped your flesh even harder.
Embarrassed you hid your face in the crook of his neck as he guided you by the hips harder and harder against his hard dick. With one hand he pulled you back by the nape of the neck so that you had to look at him while you dry humped him like a kitty in heat.
"No hiding! I wanna see every adorable flustered expression you make!”, he demanded with a harsh tone, both of you trying to pull the other closer for more stimulation. Your hands still groped and scratched at eachothers skin as you desperately grinded on eachother.
He slipped one hand to your throbbing cunt and started to circle your clit, while you tried to get more friction. He was so hard by now that your mere movements on his dick almost made him come. But he did force himself to calm down because he just wanted to work you to an orgasm and see your beautiful face tensed with desire just for him.
”Don’t stop!“, he ordered and his harsh tone made you whimper.
”I want you to be good and cum for me like this, okay? Can you do that, kitten?“
As soon as he hit the sensitive part of your clit directly with his fingers, a naughty moan escaped you and you started to ride your cunt so hard against his cock that you had to claw your fingernails into his back.
“Fuck… Minho”, you cried and couldn’t think of something else than your high which was announced by the tremendous heat in your lower abdomen.
"Aw, you like that, baby?", he chirped with a growl and guided your hips so that he would still hit all your sweet spots through the fabric. You nodded, unable to speak, rocking your hips even harder against him and his fingers.
He pushed his fingers against your clit and noticed how your body tensed. Directly he accelerated the intensity and held your face tightly again with one hand in front of his so he could look at your teary eyes, swollen lips and aroused expression as he worked you to your orgasm with just the snapping of his hips and his hand. You wanted him as close as possibly and somehow this, his mouth mere millimeters from yours, swallowing your breath, wasn’t enough.
“I’m gonna cum…”, you whimpered and he hold your face even rougher, digging his fingernails into your soft cheeks.
“Look how easy it is to turn you into the neediest, sluttiest mess, kitten”, he growled and pressed you firmly onto his throbbing dick. The wet spot on his pants was already as big as a hand, but he couldn’t care less.
“Oh I can’t wait to fuck that soaked little cunt till you cry my name all night!“
Your hands clawed for some type of, literally any, support on his shoulders while he grabbed your ass harsh.
„Be a good little slut and come for me!“, he demanded and his words twisted your mind.
Eventually you got so caught up in the moment you won’t even were able to stay focused on talking, and he started thrusting up, meeting your hips so you didn’t have to do any work. It’s this that finally does it for you, his hands holding you and his hips meeting yours and you automatically imagine how he would fuck you like this. You wanted more and more, caught up in his scent, his words and his body and finally your orgasm crashed over you.
He helped you to ride your high out and gently brushed his hand over your back.
"Feel better now?", he asked and kissed each corner of your mouth.
„Yes… Thank you, Minho.“
A little huff escaped your lips, while you still rubbed your overstimulated pussy against his length. The friction felt too good to stop, even though your soaked cunt was now extremely sensitive. He laughed lightly and ran his hands through your hair as you let your lips brush over his neck
„Greedy but polite. I like that“, he teased and kneaded your ass again. He couldn’t get enough of the perfect curves and the softness of your skin against his fingertips.
„I want you to fuck me, Minho“, you mumbled against his skin and kissed the sensitive spot on his neck beneath his ear. He instantly got goosebumps and in response he moved your hips again more firmly against his now painful hard length.
He would not and could not wait any longer. He longed to sink into your wet core and fuck you so hard until you begged him to stop. Therefore, he reached for his waistband and pulled it down. With a liberated gasp, his boner popped out and you had to bite your lower lip when you realized that it was even bigger than it had felt through the fabric. He would split you open, but you didn't care. Impatiently he pushed your panties aside and as he slipped into your aching core with just the tip, you already felt, how he stretched you out. Slowly you grinded your hips against his, gasping as only his tip filled you painfully good.
You were so dizzy that you almost didn't notice how the door to the practice room were opened and Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Felix walked in.
It wasn't until Minho glanced over your shoulder in annoyance. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the boys staring at you over your shoulder.
Hyunjin looked at you with a amused, yet unsurprised grin. Felix stared open-mouthed at your naked ass with the white thong on that Minho still had a firm grip on, and Jeongin looked perplexed but definitely aroused by the way you ass was wiggling and grinding against his friends dick.
In fact, the three were more than grateful to have burst into this situation.
"Can't you knock?", Minho spat at them, leaning his forehead against the crook of your neck to breathe in your sweet scent once more. His tip was already in your cunt and he considered, if he should just don‘t give a fuck about the others and push himself all the way into you. If he did that, he'd probably fuck you in front of them too. He already had to fight against his desire but your shocked face made him weak.
Hectically, you tugged your dress back down and adjusted the straps on your shoulders, while he slowly slipped out of you and tugged his dick into his pants.
"We've been knocking, calling and messaging", Felix said meekly, unable to get the image of Minho's hands all over you out of his head and immediately imagining what it would be like to have you sitting on his lap like that, riding his dick and moaning his name.
He cleared his throat and stared at the floor, trying not to get a boner in front of everyone like a needy little schoolboy.
"Yeah... but you seem to have been too busy. Obviously…”, Hyunjin said and his smile was breathtaking.
Minho let you off his lap only after a short resistance and cursed his members quietly. Jeongin was still frozen, looking at you as if you had just flown from heaven to earth.
Embarrassed, you fixed your hair, not resisting Hyunjin's intense gaze. To Felix, you almost wanted to apologize as his head glowed so much you could barely distinguish it from the red walls.
"You guys have to fuck everything up", Lee Know grumbled, leaning forward so they couldn't see the wet spot and the huge bulge in his sweatpants directly.
"We're really sorry, but we need you, Lino. We need to finally start working the choreography out."
Even though Hyunjin's eyes continued to rest on your boobs, he spoke normally to Minho. Gradually, your heartbeat calmed down and you tried to ignore what just happened. They almost caught you, fucking in the practice room. Anyone could have come in but Minho didn’t seem to care at all.
"You look stunning by the way, Jagi", Hyunjin said then and pulled you close to his chest. With his hands lingering on your back, he kissed you quickly. He just couldn’t resist you. The kiss was short but intense and you returned his smile with rosy cheeks.
"Yes. The dress is beautiful on you", Felix agreed and his cuteness sent butterflies in your stomach.
"Thank you. You guys are really sweet."
Jeongin still couldn't get a word out and shoved his hands into his pockets. Suddenly, you remembered something.
Panicking, you searched your phone in your bag and almost had a second heart attack as you read first the time and then Chan's messages where he asked when you guys are going to meet to prepare for the meeting.
"Shit!" you cursed, gathering your things. Along the way, you slipped on your Converse Chucks that you had left by the sofa.
"I have to go see Chan right now. Do you know where he is?"
Hyunjin shrugged and connected his phone to the stereo.
"He was still here this morning", Lee Know said from behind you.
Felix nodded and Hyunjin glanced over his shoulder briefly and replied:
"Yes, but left again around 10 o'clock."
Then Jeongin said:
"He was just at the dorm."
„Okay, Well shit. I'll go there then. We have the meeting in an hour. Fucking hell..."
As you storm out, a few more not so ladylike curses slipped out, due to the stress. The guys looked after you and Hyunjin sighed loudly.
"Is it just me, or is she even outrageously hot when she curses like a sailor?"
Lee Know snorted in amusement and the other two could only agree. Then Hyunjin looked back at Lee Know with a knowing grin.
Still irritated, he snapped at him:
"What?"
Hyunjin pouted his lips and shook his head defensively.
"Nothing. Just wondering why you decided to fuck her in the practice room, in the middle of the day, where anyone could have come in.“
„Thanks to you I didn't even get to fuck her yet“, he said sourly and the boys knew, that Lee Know would go hard on them today. He almost were able to fuck the hottest girl he ever met, and of course his stupid members had to screw it up.
"The choreographer is here“, Felix said, glancing at his phone.
"Do you want me to bring him in? He's been waiting for a while", Jeongin asked, to which Lee Know stood up, his hands in front of the big tent in his pants.
"Tell him he'll have to wait a few more minutes if he doesn't want to blow me."
Felix pressed his lips together and Jeongin looked at him in amazement, while Hyunjin laughed. As the door slammed shut behind Lee Know, Jeongin said monotonously:
"I definitely won't tell him that."
-> Part 7
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etfrin · 3 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter nineteen | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | implied murder, spit play (?¿), choking, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of Dr. Gaul, everyone is crazy here, implied stalking | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 they talk <33
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 remember to give me your feedback, reblog and comment your thoughts and my leg has cramps help-
Beta read by the lovely 💘 @nowitsmissing 🫶🏾
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Coriolanus felt his air being taken away from him. He puts his hand around the wrist of yours but doesn't attempt to push you away. He knew he easily could, however, he rather liked being under you. He parts his lips to take in much-needed air. But you had other plans in your mind.
You grin, a bit feral, much like him, Coryo noticed. And you leaned in to spit in his open mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing, his hips bucking up to look for friction. He was slapped again for his actions.
“Stop that,” you said, breathless, your eyes wide with anger or lust, he couldn't be sure.
He lets out a chuckle. Fuck, he missed you.
His insane dove.
You choke him harder, making him gasp. He doesn't stop you. Coriolanus could see the bruises formed around your neck. Snow had no right to stop you. He lets you be.
“You and Sejanus had no right to blow me off like that. I disobeyed orders by contacting you and you never thought of sending one letter! ONE! And then you have the nerve to react like this around me.” You narrowed your eyes.
“Remember the girl you had kissed, Coryo?” You whispered, leaning in. His lips were an inch away from yours to meet. “Haven't seen her around now, have you?” You smirked and he knew. He knows the look in your eyes, it was the same he had when he first had blood on his hands.
“You're mine, you have seemed to forget that after a few measly months. You're pathetic, Coryo.”
You crossed a line saying that. Coriolanus tightens the grip he had on your hand and forces it away from his strength. You cry out from the pain. It was going to bruise, just like your neck. It didn't matter to him.
“I am pathetic,” he mused, “I sent letter after letter. I tried getting over you and I failed miserably.”
“Well, you shouldn't have!” You angrily spit out, “Nobody can ever compare to me.”
Coriolanus pushed you away from his lap. He ignored his cock, straining against his pants as he rolled his eyes. “You're too much.”
“I am perfect.”
“Then you should have tried harder to contact me! Do you know how it was? Not seeing you, not hearing your voice, unable to touch your skin! I have missed you. I was dying without you! And what were you doing? Playing science with crazy Gaul.”
“Gaul is the reason you're here and not dead! You messed with her games and I told you there would be consequences!”
“I had no choice,” he yelled out.
“Why not!?”
“Because I love you. I love you and you're mine. I had to win if I wanted a life with you. A proper life worthy of our standings. There was never a choice. Not when it comes to you.”
You let out a wounded noise. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. You had him trapped. He liked the embrace. He hugs you back.
“You're everything,” he admits shamefully.
“You're not forgiven,” you sound like you're crying, he could feel his shirt getting wet. “She was punished for tasting your lips. You will be punished for allowing that.”
“I love you too, Coryo, but you need your lesson.”
Coriolanus nods. Even if he doesn't want to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He will take whatever you give him. Whether it be pain or love. “Okay, dove,” he whispered.
Then he remembered about the night of the gala. The anger you had shared with him, the truth you confined in. “Tell me what you meant by rigging the assignment of tributes,” he said.
You were caught off guard. “Uh.. uhm… I might have cut a deal with the Dean to give us the tributes from the same districts. He was supposed to give us tributes from a better district. Instead, he decided to fucks us over, and we did the same by bettering the games he hated.”
He takes in the explanation and realizes one thing.
“You knew.”
He adds, shocked, “You knew we were soulmates.”
You nod, “Yes. Ever since we were kids. You ran away from me the moment you saw the number on my wrist. The next day your wrist was burnt in an accident. I am many things, Coriolanus, but I am not stupid.”
Coriolanus feels guilt and embarrassment fester in his heart. He was ashamed of his past self. “I am sorry,” he mumbled, unable to meet your eyes.
“You're forgiven.” You smile, soft and gentle.
You tilt his head up and press a kiss to his lips.
“Tell me about district thirteen,” he said, wanting to know if the rumors were true. Especially since you had mentioned it before.
You freeze and Coriolanus catches the panic in your eyes for a split second before you relax. You didn't bother lying to him, knowing that he would catch you.
“I can't. Capitol orders. Dr. Gauls' order.”
Coriolanus clenched his jaw but nodded.
“Is that why you are here?” He asked.
“I am here because of you, that was a means to an end.”
You said it so sincerely that Coriolanus felt his cheeks burn and painted in crimson red. “I didn't get your letters,” he said in a lower voice. “I thought you abandoned me.”
“I have done many things to have you, Coriolanus Snow. Leaving you isn't in my cards.” You admitted shamelessly, not caring that he can see your obsession with him. He thrived in it so there wasn't any problem.
“I sent one every week despite Dr. Gaul forbidding it.”
“Dr. Gaul,” he thought out loud, “She stopped those letters from reaching me and vice versa.”
You frown, and he thinks you'll defend the scientist until you nod. “Makes sense, that bitch is controlling and paranoid. But there's nothing I wrote in the letters that would get us in trouble.”
You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Coriolanus answers, “I didn't either.”
You get off his lap and stand up. You wince, raising your (his) t-shirt to check the wound he has given you. CS. There was a smile on your face as you ran your thumb around the letters. “You're insane,” you mutter affectionately.
Snow shrugs in response. He had no argument to refute your fact. “It looks great on you,” he said instead, a bit of pride creeping in his voice.
You laugh in response, “I know.”
You pick up the pocket knife, checking the blade out. You go to Coriolanus and press the blade to his jaw. You don't cut the skin. You smirk, heat in your eyes as you say, “My initials will look great on you too. But not today.”
He felt disappointed.
“When then?” Coriolanus asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“After your punishment is over,” you said, opening your suitcase to change into something that would hide the obvious bruises on your skin.
“I won't forgive you until I have you crying on your knees, Coriolanus,” you grin, “You have to realize that your actions have severe consequences.”
You walked out of the door, leaving him alone on the bed with a crazed mind and an overwhelmed body.
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obsessedelusional · 6 months
Text
Dangerous Woman
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paring ✦ konig x fem!reader
summary ✦ Konig can’t stand you but you know he’s full of lies. One day it hits you, you’ve never seen his face. As an attempt to make him drop his mask, you give him a hug. It awakens something inside him causing the quiet man to beg for more of your attention.
word count ✦ 4.2k
authors note ✦ the konig brain rot has been so real I need this man immediately so this is my FIRST TIME writing for him, anyways I’m not versed in the cod universe so be nice pls bc the fuck I look like know jack diddly about the military ok I’m learning ):
Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡ (was obsessedmunson)
⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹
Konig couldn’t stand you. He thought you were the most annoying person he had ever met. At least that’s what he lead everyone. You knew better though, able to see through his annoyed facade. He’s was a fairly quiet man but you enjoyed his company. Forming a tiny crush that you assumed would go nowhere with the quiet giant. Before you joined the team he was often alone. Now you’d make a point to include him in everything, dragging him along where ever you went. He pretended to hate it every time knowing damn well he longed for the knock on his door, praying that it was you to bother him.
You were the newest to the group, only part of the crew for six months. Not once had you seen under his mask. It never really crossed your mind until one day when the two of you were sat alone in the commons area. He’s sat there reading when it hits you. You have no idea what Konig looks like. You get up from where you’re sat, he looks up almost immediately watching you approach him.
“What?” He questions, eyes on you as you sit next to him on the couch.
“What’re you hiding under there?” You ask, now inches away from his masked face.
“My face.” He replies flatly, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Can I see?” You ask as your fingers graze the hem of his mask ready to pull it up if he gives you permission.
“Do not touch.” He spits, grabbing your wrist tightly. You quickly wiggle your arm out of his embrace.
“Please.” You smile, backing away.
“Nein.” He says his attention back on the book.
“Come on. Aren’t we friends? You see my face everyday it’s only fair.” You respond, trying to reason with him.
“No we’re not.” He says this too quickly, not registering the words before the come out. Immediately filled with regret but it’s too late, your face is already filled with shock.
“It’s a waste of time. Don’t bother me about it anymore.” He adds, regretting every word that leaves his mouth. He closes his book and stands up to leave but you refuse to drop the topic, following him.
“It is not a waste of time because you’re not a waste of time.” You say, still being kind to him even when he’s not. It takes a moment for your words to sink in, before he turns back and stares at you.
"Oh, really?" His eyebrows raise, voice dripping in sarcasm.
“Yes really.”
“I don’t understand. Why do you care?” He questions, hoping you’ll drop it knowing you won’t.
“Because I do. I don’t think you’re nearly as scary as you present yourself as. I think you’re putting on a front so nobody can get close.” You explain, being more vulnerable than you have been with him before.
"Prove it. Make me drop the act right here and now." His gaze is unflinching, boring into you as he waits for you to do something. You two sit there in silence for a moment, looking at each other. You take him by surprise when you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his waist. Hugging him softly. He freezes for a moment, before stiffening.
"...What the h-hell are you doing?" His voice is soft, confused. You don’t respond, hugging him tighter.
“Get… off me.” He says, pushing you away. His voice is a whisper as he says it. His mind is racing, trying to understand what just happened. Only to look down at you, seeing you stood there looking up at him through your lashes causes a heat to rise inside him.
"W-Why did you... do that?" He shakes his head, slowly rubbing his neck. The warm feeling spreads through his body, as if your small gesture has awakened something within him.
“Making you drop the act.”
“I hated that.” He mutters, through gritted teeth.
“Sure you did.” You joke, tone letting him know you don’t believe him. Without warning and before he can respond, you turn to leave. He’s more confused than before, watching you go. Wishing you would stay. He decides to follow you, keeping a small distance.
"Where are you going?" His voice is filled with annoyance, but the concern for your well-being is still there - just hidden beneath layers of toughness.
“Why do you care?” You ask.
“Because I do. Just answer my question.” He says glaring at you but his voice laced with amusement.
“That’s crazy. All I had to do was give you a hug and now you’re following me around and suddenly caring.” You laugh, he doesn’t find it as funny.
"Shut up. I didn't say I cared about you-" He trails off, the words dying on his lips. Causing your smile to grow.
“Just imagine what would happen if I actually got my hands on you.” You say, tone more flirty than you had intended. You can’t see it but his face flushes a deep red.
"What... get your hands on me? What do you mean? What’re you trying to do to me?" He bites his tongue, trying to hold in the growing embarrassment.
“I don’t know. What do you want me to do?” You ask, forcing him to be the one to initiate something more.
“Get lost," he whispers. But he doesn't mean it, and you can tell. The idea of being with you, in that way, makes him uncomfortable, but excited.
“Fine. I’ll get lost.” You say before attempting to leave this situation again. He watches you walk away, noticing the sway of your hips. Those legs... those thighs. A slight pang of jealousy, and lust, shoots up his spine. A dark desire, growing within.
"Wait.” He whispers, causing your ears to perk up and stop you in your tracks.
“Yes?” You smile, facing him.
“Can we go somewhere more… private?” He asks.
“Where?”
"I don't care. Just somewhere... quiet." His hand reaches out and he slowly brushes his fingertips against your arm.
"...Please?" He begs, gaze heavy on you trying to gauge your reaction. The sight of this 6’10 quiet giant begging for you’re attention, has your stomach doing flips. So incredibly ready to make him beg more.
“Are you sure you can handle me?” You ask. Wanting him to know exactly what he’s getting himself into. Not sure if his quiet, anxious self could keep up with you.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" His question is asked with a smirk, as he tries to mask the excitement growing within his body.
"Either way, I am not scared of you." He adds, looking down on you.
“Maybe you should be.”
"And why is that?" He chuckles and you notice his eyes lingering on your figure.
“Because all it took was a hug and you folded. I’m gonna have you wrapped around my finger in no time.”
“I doubt that.” He says, crossing him arms against his chest.
“Just wait till you get a taste.” You tease, your hand playfully poking his chest.
"A t-taste.... of what?" His eyes flicker down to your mouth, as an image pops into his mind - an image of him kissing your lips. His breathing grows deep and erratic, causing him to blush furiously under his mask. Even more grateful for it in this moment.
"Y-You need to be careful what you say." He says before you can answer.
“Why? I don’t want to be careful. I know what I want.” You admit, your bluntness is taking him by surprise. He steps forward, towering over you.
"What... exactly... do you want from me?" He narrows his eyes, almost daring you to say it.
“I want to make you feel so good that you come crawling back for more.” You admit, moving closer. His body stiffens, his eyes widening in surprise. He can barely believe his ears, the blood rushing to his face.
"Y-You are..." His voice drops to a hoarse whisper, "...a very dangerous woman."
“You really want to make me feel that way?” He asks as he runs his hand through his hair, as he tries to gather his wits. You respond with a nod.
"Then... show me." His words hang in the air, as his body slowly draws closer to yours. Your eyes flicker down his form, taking in every inch of his muscles. The tension in the air rises, both of you wanting the same thing, yet neither of you daring to go the extra step forward.
“Ahh but I can’t. You won’t even take off your mask.” You say, your teasing sends chills down his spine.
"...You know exactly what you're doing to me. You’re going to make me loose all control of myself." He sighs accepting defeat.
“Just give me all the control. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
"Why should I?" He tilts his head, his eyes locking onto yours.
"What do you want me to do? Get on my knees? Beg for you?" His voice drops, becoming a quiet whisper realizing what he’s done.
“Actually now that you mention it…” You respond, biting your lip. Testing your limits with him, see how far he’ll go.
"You're evil." His voice is husky, lips trembling slightly. For some reason, he wants to give in. To do as you please.
“Beg.” You demand, voice suddenly a lot more serious than before. His face flushes, but his pride stops him from giving in to you. He clenches his teeth, struggling with everything he has not to give in to your command.
"Beg you, huh?" His voice is rough now, cracking a little. With each passing second, the idea becomes more tempting.
"And what if I... refuse?" He questions, hoping there’s another route to get what he wants out of this.
“Then we can stop this right here and go our separate ways.” You respond, flatly. His pride battles with the desire to have you. It's a losing battle, but he still tries to fight back.
"...You're bluffing." He’s looking at you, waiting for you to take it back. You don’t.
"Why would you back down?" His eyes glance at your thighs, the curves of your body. His heart is racing, breath coming in rapid gasps. The word slips out without thought.
"...Please." He whispers, barely audible.
“Can’t hear you.” You grin, knowing you’re winning this battle. He groans in frustration.
"...Please." This time he says it louder.
“Please what? I need words.”
"Please… T-Touch me." His words are soft and needy, his voice sounding shaky. The need to have you grows overwhelming. All he can think about is having you. Feeling you. Tasting you. When you don’t respond quickly enough he continues.
"Please, please," His voice drops to a whisper. He can’t even look at you as the pleas leave his mouth.
“So needy.” You tease, before grabbing his hand and leading him straight to your bedroom. Once alone you push him ever so gently onto your bed. His large frame falls, sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for further instruction. You eye him up and down before, tugging at his mask. When he doesn’t stop you, you pull it off. You stand in front of him, face to face as he sits there.
The two of you sit in silence for some time as you take in his features. His piercing blue eyes, surrounded by smudged black paint is the first thing you take notice of. Moving onto the mop of dirty blonde hair on his head, matching his thick brows. His face has a few scars, is scattered with freckles, and light stubble. The largest scar, cuts through his strong jaw and up his face. You lightly trace it with you finger, he shudders under your light touch. Nobody has touched his face in years. The feeling foreign. He looks at you, worried waiting for you to have a reaction. Whether it be negative or positive, he needs you to say anything at this point.
“You’re beautiful.” You smile, softly cupping his jaw causing him to smile and his cheeks to flush red. He stays silent, his eyes glued to your lips. Every inch that you move closer is a torment, your lips mere inches away from his now. Your breath is warm and sweet, making him want to grab you and kiss you. He wants you to have all the control though, so he begs.
"Oh god... please.” His muscles tense, every nerve in his body begging to touch you.
“Such a good boy.” You laugh softly before pressing your lips to him and finally give him what he so desperately craves. He freezes in your grasp, eyes fluttering shut. His heart beats out of his chest, every fiber of his being filled with a mix of euphoria and shame - both feeling equally delicious. His fingers dig into your hips, grasping onto you.
"Y-You can't... make me feel this way..." He mutters when you pull away to breath.
“How am I making you feel?” You question, wanting to hear all the details. His fingertips slide up your thighs and rest on your waist.
"I-I... I feel like I can't think straight anymore. Like I’m read to do whatever you ask of me." His body trembles with anticipation, eyes searching yours.
“More.. please. I need more.” He begs, his hands pulling you closer.
“So greedy already.” You tease, voice filled with satisfaction. You’ve only kissed this man and he’s desperate for more of your attention. His face is flushed, his body trembling slightly.
"Please... Don't make me wait." He moves a little closer, eyes slowly trailing over you. With out warning your lips are on his again, pushing him further onto the bed. Before you know it, your straddling his body as he lays on his back. His hands are frantic, moving up and down you. Unsure of where to begin, afraid he’s going to miss out on something. As you press your weight onto him, you can feel how hard he is for you. Mentally taking note of how big he feels, through all the layers of clothing. Both of you audibly gasp as you grind on him.
“More.” He croaks into the kiss, causing you to laugh before giving in. Kissing down his jaw, nibbling softly as you kiss down his neck. He breaths hard, a slew of words in a language you don’t understand leave his mouth. His accent heavier than normal. He’s well aware of the marks your leaving and he doesn’t care. Knowing his mask will cover them.
When you pull away, his disappointment is evident. Only to be subdued when he realizes what you’re doing. Your fingers, are reaching for the hem of your shirt. Slowly pulling it over your head. He watches in awe as you, undo the back strap of your bra. As you throw it off to the side he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for permission.
“You can….” Before you can even finish, his mouth has one of your breast licking at your nipple. His other hand is kneading at your second breast, letting your nipple pinch between his fingers. Shutting you up real quick, as you arch into his touch. Letting soft moans leave your lips that stay parted slighty as he does his work. He looks up at the sight of you enjoying yourself and he can feel himself getting more worked up, not realizing that was even possible.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, letting your nipple slip out of his mouth. You start pulling at his shirt and he helps you remove it. His chest is littered with scars you kiss so softly down his chest, letting your hands explore all this new area.
Each kiss is like a jolt of electricity, sending a rush through his body. His body trembles with every touch, barely able to keep himself still. He looks like a feral beast, trying everything in his power not to take what he desires.
"It's all yours... I'm yours... whatever you want...." His voice is hoarse, as he watches your mouth on his body. Your lips send him into a dizzying trance, his heartbeat increasing with every passing moment.
“Good boy.” You grin, focusing on his pants. His breathing grows quick and heavy, his hands clench into fists. His body trembles, as he stares intently at your actions. Watching you as you unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slowly. He fights back against his urges, trying desperately to keep control. But... he can't. You've pulled him out of his shell, bringing out a more primal side of him.
"W-What are you...?" His voice trails off as your start palming his hard on through his boxers. He groans in pleasure, letting his head fall back onto the bed. It terrifies him how much he’s enjoying this.
“I’m gonna reward you for being a good boy.” You purr, pulling his boxers down. Finally letting his cock breath. You grasp it at the base, it’s heavy as you make it stand straight up. He bites his lower lip, trying to maintain his composure.
"I... I can't handle this..." He groans, already so overwhelmed and you haven’t done anything yet. His heart races, body trembling in lust and your start to move your wrist up and down.
"What have I become?" He thinks out loud, looking down at you with his shaft in your hand. But it's too late now - his body is no longer his, it belongs to you. He bites his lower lip, unable to look away from what you’re doing to him.
"...I'm yours... do... do whatever you want.” As soon as he’s able to get those words out, you kiss his tip before swirling your tounge around it.
“Fuck.” He groans, involuntarily bucking his hips. Emitting a laughter from you, he doesn’t care because suddenly your lips part and begin to suck him off. Your cheeks hallow as you move up and down his cock. It’s too big, so your hands move around the base of shaft while your mouth focuses on the top half.
It’s taking everything in will power to not grab the back of your head and force you to take it all, not wanting to take more than your willing to give. Not wanting to do anything that would cause you to stop. After all you said he was suppose to give you full control. The two of you are making eye contact as you continue to suck. He can’t help it when his hands find your hair, just wanting to touch you. He moans as you test your gag reflex, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. His native language leaves his mouth roughly as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag before pulling away, your lips slick and swollen. A long string of salvia hangs from your chin and attaches to his dick. You wipe away at your chin, using that salvia to pump his shaft with your hand. Spiting all the built up salvia onto him as your continue to pump his cock.
Your swollen lips form a smile as you watch him lose himself under your touch. This giant killing machine is putty under your touch, willing to do whatever you asked of him and you were going to see just how far he’d go for you. He watches you, grunting as you continue to jack him off. Wondering what’s got you smiling, terrified but excited for what’s to come next. When you pull away, he waits. He watches as you start to pull your pants off, taking your underwear with them. They fall to the floor, he gulps as you climb back onto him.
You let your cunt rest on his cock, he shutters at the new feeling. You start rolling your hips, teasing his cock with your pussy. Moans leave your lips as it bumps your clit and teases your hole. Mentally preparing for the stretch that’s about to come. It’s not enough for him so he starts to beg again.
“Please… I need you.” Your movements have sent his heart into an emotional whirlwind. His body craves to have you.
"More..." His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are glued to your movements. You lift your body, pushing yourself up onto you knees before grabbing his cock and lining it up with your hole. Slowly sinking down, allowing him to fill you up. A hint of pain finds you as, his cock stretches you out inch by inch. You sit there for a few moments, letting your core adjust to this new reality.
He lays still, watching as his cock disappears into your cunt. Music to his ears are the groans that leave your mouth, accompanied by the wet sounds of your pussy being split. He mutters a few curse words once you’ve fully taken his full length. A few moments later, you start rolling your hips slowly. The both of you moaning at the movement, his hands finding your hips. His fingers digging into your skin. His eyes lock onto yours. Your hips move slow, painfully slow.
“I.. please….” He whimpers, desperate for more. You slow down even more, smirking. Enjoying the sight of him suffering under you.
“Words. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” You smile, moving your hips. Your hands resting on his chest to hold yourself up.
“Faster, please. I need more..” His voice breaks, as he tightens his grip around your waist. He feels like he's going insane, his mind spinning at the sensation. You give in, your pace quickens. Grinding in a relaxed rhythm, not wanting to give him it all so quickly. His hands continue to dig into hips, not wanting to let go. Pushing you deeper onto his cock. He begins bucking his own hips under you, adding to your pleasure.
Before you know it he’s begging for more. Please so easily leaving his lips, getting more comfortable begging for what he wants. As you fuck him, he’s in heaven watching your every moment. His breath is ragged while his body is trembling under your touch. Your rhythm turns more frantic as you speed up. Breathy moans leaving both of you as your tempo is unrelenting.
You let yourself lean back, your arms find his thighs as you never stop moving. You continue to fuck his cock at a brutal pace. Only now the way your leaning back giving him an ever better view. He can’t look away from the sight of your pussy, grinding so masterfully on his own cock. You can feel heat pooling in your lower back, you’re close. Needing something more to send you over the edge. You start massaging your clit, overwhelming your senses. He realizes quickly, getting more turned on at the thought of you only using him for your own pleasure. Not paying him all that much attention as your eyes shutter close, curse words leaving your lips. Your touch causing your cunt to tighten on his cock, leading him to more pleasure.
Your nerves are on fire as your fingers stay playing with your clit. Poorly holding back your moans as you can feel yourself chasing your climax. Your hips stutter, walls flutter around his cock as you come undone. The sight of you being push over the edge is enough to push him. His muscles tighten before he empties his load inside of you. Yours hips keep moving, only more lazily milking every last drop of his seed. Eventually you come to a stop, with his cock still inside you kiss him tiredly. Both of your juices mixing, dripping out of you and onto him. A mess created where the two of you are joined. Konig kisses you back, hands pulling you closer as you keep his cock warm.
The next morning Konig opens his eyes, and looks around to find you gone. His eyes dart around, trying to take in what happened last night. It was real, but a part of him is still in disbelief. Looking for any sign of you still being here but there isn’t any. His mind is still spinning, the events of the night playing in his mind. He groans slightly, getting out of the bed just to take in the morning sun. But he can't shake the feeling you left him, as the last remnants of last night linger. He gets a start to his day, mind racing with the worst possible reasons as to why you were gone. Maybe you regretted last night? Was he not good enough? Did you use him? You made him feel so many things, he gave you full control. And you couldn’t even be there when he woke up. He’s more confused than ever, hoping he’d see you today at some point.
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