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radioactiveparker · 2 days

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The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X Fem!Cheerleader!Reader

Part Four - Hand Over The Purse

Summary - The kids get high and share a little more about themselves. Some more than they probably wanted to. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes).

Warnings - Strong Language / Drug Use / Kleptomania / Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / Child Abuse / Sexual References / Pyromania and Fire

Word Count - 5.4k

(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

~~~~~

Saturday.

October 25th, 1986.

Hawkins High Library.

2:00pm

~~~~~

Eddie sat on the beanbag chair, putting the finishing touches on a joint as long as a dictionary page. You sat down beside him, squeezing to fit on the chair together, and laughed at the size of the joint. He smiled proudly. He licked the blunt all over to ensure that it stayed together, keeping his eyes locked on yours. He held it up to your mouth and blindly fished his lighter out of his pocket, not once taking his eyes off you. You tried not to act nervous, but if you were unconvincing, Eddie didn't say so. You wished he'd say something to ease whatever this tension was between the two of you. The chocolate swirls of his irises were making your mind go blank. He struck the lighter and held it under the end. You closed your eyes to shy away from his attentive stare and moved in on the joint. There was a brief pause, and you were hyperaware of Eddie's presence beside you. With a shuffle of his jacket, you could feel him moving closer to place the blunt to your lips. Eddie couldn't help but stare at you like this. Your eyelashes resting softly above your cheeks, and your lips pouted ever so slightly in such a kissable way.

Eddie smoothly replaced the joint with his lips.

You unknowingly pressed your lips to his and sucked. Your eyes snapped open to see Eddie, lips against your and his eyes delicately closed. Despite all of the alarms ringing in your head, you didn't move away and instead close your eyes again. Eddie smiled against your lips. In reality, the kiss only lasted about five seconds, but it felt like time had come to a stand still. The kiss made your stomach drop. Not necessarily in a bad way. It's kind of like when you hit the first drop of a rollercoaster; terrifying but thrilling all the same. His lips felt like the inside of a rose petal. It was a bit unexpected from a guy like Eddie, but you weren't complaining. Billy's lips were always chapped, and he used far too much teeth and tongue for your liking.

Billy.

You pulled away abruptly.

You swiftly wiped your lips on the back of your hand, praying that Eddie couldn't see how they were shaking and gave him an unamused look. He just laughed at his little prank, loving how flustered he made you. If your mind was blank before, it was the complete opposite now. You were practically drowning in your own thoughts, struggling to keep your head above them all as more and more weighed you down. You thought of Eddie and how much you had come to tolerate him over the course of a few hours. You thought of the kiss, albeit it was barely more than a quick peck, and how much you had actually enjoyed it. Then you thought of Billy. You thought about how he would react if he found out you had kissed Eddie. Had you technically cheated? Eddie kissed you, not the other way around. But you enjoyed it. The fluttering butterflies Eddie had given you quickly turned into a nest of guilty spiders crawling under your skin.

You rolled your eyes and handed out a hand for Eddie to pass you the blunt, not trusting him to give it to you properly this time. You felt like you were more desperate to smoke now than ever, if only to clear your mind. Eddie passed it to you with little defiance over your new found trust issues. You held it to your lips and took a puff. It wasn't so different than smoking a cigarette, which you only did socially, so the initial inhale wasn't so bad. But your eyes closed as you struggled to keep the dope in your lungs. Your cheeks puffed in and out, and you gaged. Your lungs expelled the smoke out, leaving you coughing and choking. Eddie laughed beside you, patting you on the back in an effort to help clear your airways.

"You good, Sweetheart?" He chuckled.

You continued to cough, only holding a thumbs up sarcastically.

Once you had finally collected yourself, you bravely tried again. You went to put the joint to your lips again when Eddie stopped you. You looked at him confused when he took the joint from your hands.

"Let me try something I think would help."

"What are you going to do?" You said cautiously. After that kiss, you weren't sure you liked him being so vague.

"Shotgun."

"Shotgun?"

"You'll see. You just gotta breathe in the smoke, okay?"

This all sounded a bit sketchy to you, but Eddie knew what he was doing.

You hoped.

He took a hit and held it in his mouth. He tenderly placed a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Your hand rested on his chest, so you didn't topple on top of him. He lightly pressed his lips onto yours and opened his mouth, exhaling slowly. You caught on quickly, despite the shock of Eddie practically kissing you again, and began to suck the smoke in. It was far easier this time, the smoke feeling far more diluted than when you drew it from the source. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of Eddie's lips brushing against yours, and resisted temptation to lean in and kiss him again. You inhaled as slowly as you could to keep Eddie close for as long as possible, but your lungs were reaching full capacity, and you had to pull away to release the air from them. Eddie looked pleased when you didn't have another coughing fit.

You bravely reached for the blunt and took it from his hands, suddenly feeling the urge to please and impress him. You wrapped your lips around the end of the blunt and inhaled once again. The hit wasn't so bad this time. Now you were more prepared. Your lungs surrendered to the smoke and allowed it to fill them up. You exhaled a lot smoother this time, feeling a little disappointed with the lack of effect the weed seemed to have on you. You didn't feel any different, aside from your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn't decide if that was from the joint, Eddie, or the guilt creeping through your system.

Eddie had an impressed smile on his face. He took the blunt from you and took a hit himself, a lot more expertly than you had. He lay back on the bean bag and blew the smoke upwards towards the ceiling. The movement had you sinking into the chair until you were practically cuddled up into Eddie's side. He placed an arm around your shoulders as he got himself more comfortable.

You shared a few more hits when Robin approached the two of you gingerly. She felt like she was intruding, but she felt in dire need of a smoke. She sat on one of the single sofas beside Eddie and asked to join in. Eddie felt satisfaction that he had been able to influence the others to join him, just out of spite for Steve and Nancy. He wondered if they would join in, too.

He passed the joint to Robin, who took a hit effortlessly. He wasn't as shocked as you were at her mastery of smoking. Eddie knew Robin from band and had managed to convince Robin and a few others to smoke with him and the other guys from Corroded Coffin. It wasn't a common occurrence, but whenever he offered, Robin was always the first to say yes.

"You know, my cousin Si, he's from Canada." Robin rambled. "He got high once, and he started eating like really weird foods, and then he just felt like he didn't belong anywhere. Kinda like 'Twilight Zone', you know?"

You took another hit after her. When you passed the blunt to Eddie, the world was moving frame by frame. Your head began to feel lighter and lighter until you felt like you were floating. Eddie watched you with numbed concern and started laughing. At first, you thought you must have said something funny, but Robin started laughing too. You realised you must have looked completely off your face, and soon, you were laughing too. Your eyes squinted shut with laughter. Coloured patterns moved across the insides of your eyelids. Lots of slowly rotating geometric shapes in multicolours floated in all directions, crossing and colliding with each other. When you opened your eyes again, you stopped acknowledging where you were. You felt like you were high on a cloud with your friends laughing beside you.

~~~~~

2:30pm

~~~~~

You didn't remember when Steve joined in, but he appeared from one of the seclusion rooms without his pants and began running around the library. You all watched in bewilderment as he continued his wild, uninhibited race around the bookshelves. He finished outside of the office he had come out of and went back inside without a word.

Nancy pinched the bridge of her nose at his behaviour. She couldn't believe he had managed to convince himself to smoke weed, despite her pleads not to. She was the only one completely sober. She sat by herself in one of the listening rooms, away from the others but close enough to keep her eye on them. It was a small room with a turntable, speakers, a panel of controls and switches, and racks of records. She fiddled with the record jacket in her hands. She took the record out of the sleeve and placed it on the turn table. The music came out louder than she was expecting, and she scrambled to turn it down. Much to her disappointment, she had managed to alert the others.

Eddie waltzed in, looked around, and began going through the records. The others follow loosely behind, thankfully Steve with his pants on this time. Soon, Nancy's small means of escape felt like an overcrowded borstal.

"What a bunch of shit records." Eddie complained and moved to another row.

Eddie saw a cover that piqued his interest and replaced the record on the turntable. He set down the tonearm, and the record hissed and popped before playing some German folk song. He moved his arms far too enthusiastically for what was playing, mocking some air drums.

"Nice beat."

"That is the worst sound I ever heard." You complained with your hands coving your ears.

"What else is there?" Robin chimed.

"Not much."

Eddie turned back to the racks. He started thumbing through the records again. The others joined in. Eddie pulled out another choice selection and put it on, ripping the old record off the turntable. It was opera. A prima donna started shrieking. Eddie mocked her by singing in a ridiculous, high-pitched voice. You laughed before joining in, then Steve and Robin joined too humorously. Even Nancy had to crack a smile at that.

"Wait! I have something we can listen to." You exclaimed and rushed out of the room once the laughter had died down.

You fished through your bag and came back with Prince's Purple Rain album that you took earlier.

"Where did you get that?" Eddie questioned.

"Took it from the teacher's lounge when Steve and I used the drink machine."

Eddie was impressed by that. He took it from you and put it on the turntable. Prince's 'Let's Go Crazy' played, and his voice drifted from the speakers, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life. Electric word life. It means forever, and that's a mighty long time..."

Eddie turned the volume up as loud as he could without Principal Higgins hearing it, as the drums set in. Everyone, bar Nancy, filtered out of the room to began to dance. Eddie leaned against the doorframe, tapping his foot to the beat as he watched the others. They jumped and swung their arms, rocking to the strumming of the guitar. He took particular interest in you. You were standing in a shaft of sunlight streaming from between the blinds, head bowed as you twirled and pranced on your feet. You were vaguely aware of Eddie watching you. You found yourself concentrating a lot harder to stay on your feet. You spun and swayed your hips, interpreting the music with your body. You glistened with perspiration as you lost yourself to the music and set your inhibitions aside. Eddie's eyes widened as he carefully studied your body, subtly adjusting his pants. He tried not to think about the way you had wiggled out of your turtle neck, leaving yourself in just your cheerleading top and cardigan when you began having a hot flush.

The next song played until completion, and you finished your dance with a sensuous flourish. You look to Eddie, who gave you an applause. Your cardigan was half hanging off your shoulders, exposing the soft flesh of your upper arms, and your skirt had managed to hike itself further up your thigh. You blushed, hoping that you hadn't given Eddie more of a show than you had intended. But it was nothing that he hadn't seen before.

Perv.

The drums tapered off to a slow dance type beat, giving you a chance to catch your breath. You extended a hand out to Eddie. He had been so engrossed in checking you out that it took him a second to realise you were asking him to dance. He smirked and stalked his way over to you, clasping your hand in his. You tried to fight any intimidation as he towered over you. He was at least a whole head taller than you. The two of you stood a few inches away from each other, holding each others hands in front of you as you slowly started swaying to the beat. Eddie tugged on your hands to pull you closer until you collided with his chest. You rested your head there, hearing the rapid beating of his heart as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He embraced you in his, relaxing his cheek on the top of your head. The smell of your shampoo clouded his senses. He could feel the tension shifting from your bones, and you cuddled him closer. You fell in step together, letting the rhythm control your movements. Your entire body was in tingles, like someone had taken your bottle cap off and was filling your body with fizzy soda. The scenery surrounding you dissolved until it was just you and Eddie. He brushed a hand against your cheek, his body acting on his own. You lifted your head, and Eddie guided to look in his eyes. Your hands move to wrap around his neck, pressing your chests together, giving him no choice but to become one with you. You were in pure paradise. Your fingers played with the stray strands at the nape of his neck that had fallen out of his loose bun. In that moment, you were completely his.

You felt like there was a hole in your heart being filled. You never had this with Billy. He was too forward and fast-paced. He didn't take the time to love you, to appreciate you. Instead, his version of proving his love to you was by not starting a row. The only time you felt like you were in a normal relationship was when he wasn't yelling at you. But recently those times proved less and less. You hid your face in Eddie's shoulder to conceal your teary eyes.

You blinked your tears away when he nudged you with his nose. You looked at him again, his eyes swimming in concern.

"You good?"

You nodded, giving him a pitiful smile. He didn't believe you, but he thought it best not to press. He took a deep breath and pulled you into a much needed hug. You found it hard to believe that Eddie had this side to him. His walls were always up so high, but maybe you were enough to trigger the cracks to bring them down.

Just as they started to crumble, the song came to an end. The two of you tensed, suddenly aware of how close you were. Eddie cleared his throat and took a step back. You felt cold. The others sat on the beanbag chairs, watching you with raised eyebrows and smirks on their lips. You could feel yourself flushing but moved to join them. Eddie followed behind with an exaggerated swagger, as if nothing had happened. You all sat in a loose circle, stoned and relaxed. They included you and Eddie in their conversation.

"So, you got a middle name?" Nancy asked you. It seemed that, after being together for about six hours, they finally decided to get to know one another.

You gave her a sly, I'll-never-tell look.

"I'll bet you can't guess my middle name." Eddie said cheerily, wanting to play along.

"Wait, so your real name isn't Eddie 'The Freak' Munson." Steve faked surprise.

Eddie sent him a glare, about to open his mouth before Robin jumped in. "It's Waylon."

"Your birthday's October 31st, you weigh 178 pounds, you're five feet, eleven inches, and your social security number's 027-03-8619."

Everybody looked at her as much for her entering the conversation as for her correct guess. Eddie was completely stunned.

"Are you a psychic?" Steve gasped.

She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head.

"Then do you want to tell me how you know all of this about me?" Eddie didn't seem as impressed as the others.

Eddie wasn't one to tell his personal information to a bunch of strangers. He had spent a lot of time carefully engineering the walls he built around him. He was aggrieved to find that he had managed to slip up. You saw shoulders tense, and you knew that the wall you had managed to break into was building itself back up.

"I stole your wallet, dingus. While you were slow dancing with your 'Sweetheart'."

Eddie slapped his pockets. Sure enough, his wallet was missing.

"Give it, thief!"

Robin chuckled, taking his wallet out of her pocket. She chucked it to Eddie, who quickly opened it and checked through to see if anything was missing.

"Give me a break. What's there to steal? A couple of bucks and a beaver shot."

"A what?"

"He's got a nudie picture in there, I saw it."

"Let's see." Steve reached out, but Eddie pulled it back.

"I want to see Eddie's wallet." You suddenly felt jealous. Who was this nude woman? Did he know her? Was it his girlfriend? Would Eddie keep a nudie picture of you in his wallet?

"Hand over the purse." Eddie countered.

You paused as you quickly tried to remember if there was anything embarrassing in your purse. Eddie dug his wallet back out. You reached for your bag. You held them out for each other. Eddie yanked the purse from you at the same time you took his wallet. Steve offered his wallet to Robin in exchange for her bag and then exchanged Robin's bag for Nancy's purse.

Steve opened Nancy's purse carefully, as if it held a treasure. He pulled out makeup container after makeup container, eyeliner tubes, lipstick tubes, gloss pots, tiny jars, brushes, pencils, combs, hairbrushes - a ridiculous amount of stuff. You fished through Eddie's wallet. You took out his license, his social security card, and a Mastercard.

You studied the Mastercard. "Who's Myron Lee Fong?"

Eddie pulled out your Walkman and tangled headphones from your bag, studying the tapes you carried with you. He was surprised by your mixed taste in music; Madonna, Beastie Boys, Michael Jackson, Journey, and David Bowie.

"Got me." He shrugged, trying to refrain himself from unwinding your tapes.

"Is this a stolen card?"

"No, it's a found-in-the-parking-lot card."

"Isn't it illegal?"

"Only if I use it." He winked.

"What do you have it for if you don't use it?"

"Status."

His answer confused you. You would have asked him what he meant, but with his lack of response to your questions, you didn't think you were going to get much of an explanation.

"This is the worst fake ID I've ever seen. Do you realise you made yourself 68?" Nancy giggled as she searched through Robin's bag.

She passed the fake ID around, and everyone chuckled at it.

"That was supposed to be the year I was born." Robin sighed, snatching it back, not enjoying everyone laughing at her, even if she had found it funny herself. "I goofed it."

"What do you need a fake ID for?"

She looked at you like it was obvious. "So I can vote."

Everyone shared a laugh. Nancy dumped the rest of Robin's bag in front of her on the floor; traveller's checks, a birth certificate, socks, a baggie of underwear, spare t-shirt, toothbrush and toothpaste, a tiny Teddy bear and a scad of tampons.

"You always carry this much shit in your bag?" Eddie picked up a tampon, examining it as if he was debating whether or not it would fit up his nose.

"Yeah," Robin's demeanour suddenly turned sombre. "You never know when you have to jam."

"Run away?" Nancy asked, eyes big with pity.

"Run away."

"For good?"

"For good. As far as I can get."

"No matter how bad things got, I'd never run away from home. Living with assholes is preferable to living on the street." Steve interjected.

"That's your opinion."

"Are you gonna be like a shopping bag lady? You know, like, sit in alleyways and like talk to buildings and wear men's shoes and that kinda thing?" Eddie asked.

You gave him a nudge. He obviously wasn't reading the room. It wouldn't be the first time. Any moment you were expecting Robin to tell some big secret about herself, or even just break down crying. Eddie wasn't exactly making things any easier for her.

"I'll do what I have to."

"Why do you have to do anything?" Your question was more of an encouragement, letting her know that she was in a safe place. There was no judgement coming from you.

You had thought about running away before, every kid probably had at some point, but you knew that you wouldn't ever actually do it. Robin, however, was primed and ready to go at any second. The thought made you sad, and you remembered how she had looked when you first walked into the library this morning; red eyed and sniffle nosed. You wondered what had happened to her.

Robin turned to Steve. They shared a look. Something told you that Steve already knew what was up with Robin and why she wanted to run away. But how? They were the most unlikely duo ever. Surely Robin didn't know Steve well enough to open up to him.

"I don't think my parents accept me for who I am."

"You'd subject yourself to the violent dangers of the street because your parents don't accept you?" Eddie scoffed. "Welcome to the fucking club."

"Rob, everybody's home life is unsatisfying." You continued as if Eddie hadn't spoken, trying to reason with Robin. "If it wasn't, people'd live with their parents forever."

"No Sweetheart, I think hers is beyond what people like us think is unsatisfying."

Robin shifts in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with all of the attention to her problem. "Never mind. Everything's cool."

"What's the deal?"

"There's no deal, dingus. Forget it. There's no problem." Robin didn't want to talk about it anymore. "What do you care? Leave me alone."

"You're carrying all that crap in your purse. Either you really want to run away or you want people to think you really want to run away."

"Eddie!" You gasped. You couldn't understand why he was having such a big reaction to what Robin had said.

"Eat shit!" Robin threw Steve's wallet to the ground and stormed off.

Steve picked up his wallet. He didn't look offended that she had thrown it, he just made sure that everything was still in there before looking longingly at Robin. You could see the gears turning in his head as he debated whether or not to go after her. He rose from his seat, but Nancy held onto his arm, shaking her head.

"I think it would be best just to let her cool off."

You turned to Eddie, a confusing mix of fury and sympathy churning in your stomach. "You shouldn't've said that."

"Whatever, Buckley's got a fucking stick up her ass."

"Go apologise to her."

Everyone stilled, turning to you with wide eyes, shocked that you had the balls to boss Eddie around. You felt yourself buckle slightly under Eddie's stare, but held your ground.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Eddie. You should go and apologise to her." You looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes. "Please."

Fuck.

Eddie shifted under your gaze. He was torn between keeping his stance and yielding to your orders. Something about you looking up at him like that did something for him. He tried his best not to, but he couldn't help but think about you looking like that on your knees for him. He shook the thought from his head before he conjured up too many salacious details. With a deep exhale through his nose, he reluctantly stood and made his way over to Robin. The others watched with open mouths. Nobody tells Eddie what to do, much less Eddie doing what he's told.

He reused to admit he had some sort of soft spot for you, instead he decided that he was doing this because he wanted to. He knew Robin. She was one of the few who actually treated him like a human being. He walked into the seclusion room to see Robin sat at the table with her head in her arms.

"Hey, Buckley, can we talk?"

She lifted her head from the desk, eyes red and blurred with tears. Her lip curled angrily. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Eddie shook his head in offence. "Okay, fine. Do what you want. Sorry to disturb your self wallowing."

He turned to join the others. Robin watched as he started back towards the door and a realisation flooded her. She didn't want him to go. She just doesn't know how to accept help.

"Wait!"

Eddie stopped abruptly and did a 180 back to her. She struggled to meet his eyes. Her mouth bobbed open like a fish as she raked her brain for the words to say. Help me. Listen to me. Say something so I don't have to. For once in her life, chronic rambler Robin Buckley had nothing to say.

Eddie moved towards her carefully like he was walking towards a lion rather than a sad teenage girl. He calmly sat in the seat opposite her, fiddling with the rings on his fingers awkwardly as he waited for her to speak.

"So what is it?" Eddie couldn't wait any longer. "What's wrong?"

There was some sympathy there, but to her, he didn't really sound like he was too concerned. But he was willing to listen and support and that was enough for Robin.

She lowered her head. She wanted to let it all out, but she just didn't know how to present it. Eddie could see she was struggling. He couldn't stop the pity swirling in his gut.

"Is it bad?" He offered.

Robin nodded sadly.

Eddie grimaced expecting something horrible. He suggests the worst to get it over with. "Child abuse?"

Robin nodded again.

"What do they do to you?" Eddie braced himself for a horror story.

"They ignore me."

Eddie stared at her, too startled to say anything helpful.

His sympathy seemed to melt away at her confession, replaced by incredulity. That's it? He thought to himself. The shit he put up with from his parents, he wished that they had ignored him. He opened his mouth to rant and rave about how bad his life was, but he paused when he finally met his eye. This wasn't about Eddie. Right now, this was about Robin. She was brave to confess something like that. Heck, Eddie hadn't even managed to work up the courage to express any of his true feelings.

"I'm sorry that you have to go through that, Rob."

What else could he have said? He had never been ignored a day in his life, always being yelled at or heckled, or punched, or kicked. He couldn't tell her that everything was going to be okay because he didn't know if it would be. He had never been in that situation before to tell her. But apparently that was all he needed to say.

She gave him a weak smile and wiped her eyes on her jumper sleeve with an appreciative nod. "Thank you."

He fidgeted a bit and tried to alleviate the awkwardness. He looked back and forth between Robin and the door, itching for the lighter in his pocket. He wished he could do more to comfort her, but the silence was eating him alive.

"You don't have to stay, dingus."

He hid his relief and with a quiet 'I'll leave you to it' he headed back to the others.

You and Nancy were sat chatting while Steve fiddled with one of Robins tampons. He looked carefully to see if the girls were watching him, then he peeled the wrapper off and examined the contents. He checked it out very carefully. An idea occurred to him. He put the tube to his lips and blew. The tampon fired from the tube and halfway across the room.

Eddie caught a glimpse of your conversation before you noticed he was there.

"But do you like him?" Nancy whispered.

"I don't want to."

"But do you?"

You sighed, fighting a smile. "I do."

Steve's exclamation had startled you and successfully drew your conversation to a conclusion. Eddie's ears had perked up while his heart deflated. There was someone you liked. Someone that most definitely couldn't be him. Why would you like him? He's been nothing but an ass to you for the past seven hours. And even though it was his own fault, Eddie couldn't help feeling disheartened by that.

"How is she?" Steve asked before Eddie could think any more of it.

He took a seat beside Steve. You had to resist a frown when he did. He had practically been glued to your side all day, what was different now? You shuffled awkwardly, moving to fill the empty space you had left for him.

"She'll be fine." Eddie brushed him off spitefully, pulling his knees to his chest and crossing his arms, pouting like a toddler who hadn't got what they wanted.

"What's up with you, face-ache?"

"Piss off."

He stood up harshly, stomping his feet as he walked back to his seat at the desk. But not your desk, where he had been sat all day, the desk he had originally sat behind you. He put his feet up on the desk, ripped his lighter and the few pencils he had stolen this morning out of his pocket and began to try and burn them.

You all shared a confused stare, when Robin caught your eye. She walked out of the seclusion room, her eyes red from crying as she wiped her nose on a tissue from her pocket. She sat back down with you all and shared a smile as if nothing had happened.

"What did you say to him?" You asked, wanting answers about Eddie's sudden change in behaviour.

"Nothing. He did most of the talking actually." She shied.

"Then what's up with him?"

"No idea, he seemed fine when he left."

That was the truth, but upon over hearing your most recent confession, Eddie's heart had turned stone. The small hopeful part of him, a part of him he didn't even know existed, had thought that maybe he had a chance with you. He was proud of himself for finally growing on you, but perhaps it was more of a spread - a disease like some kind of fungus that you wanted rid of. Why would you, Cheerleading Captain, like someone like Eddie. You were on two completely different levels, way out of his league. You hung out with Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, Tommy H and Chrissy Cunningham. He hated those guys. But why were you so different?

He hadn't realised until hearing how you liked someone else, just how much he actually liked you.

Maybe more.

~~~~~

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goblinontour · 3 days

Text

Wreck Of Him

a hard time dealing with reality

part 1

warnings: prof!al, age gap, smut, alcohol, crying, feelings

word count: 8.5k

As you stepped off the train together, onto the bustling platform, your mind replayed the whirlwind encounter that just happened. Despite the still lingering euphoria, a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach at the thought of facing the aftermath.

You hurried through the crowd of commuters, and you could tell he was trying to make himself unseen. Maybe he was from here too, and didn’t want to risk being seen with you, and although you could understand, that didn’t stop it from hurting you a bit.

You followed behind him until he spotted the pharmacy inside the station. You stopped by the entrance and for a moment his expression softened as he caught sight of you, and, without a word, he fell into step beside you, his presence offering both comfort and uncertainty.

“I thought maybe we could go in together,” he said, his voice tentative. “To get what you need…or I can just go in, if you’d like.”

Your cheeks flushed at the implication, but you nodded gratefully, relieved that he was willing to help navigate this awkward situation.

He went inside, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, feeling the weight of judgemental stares as he discreetly made the purchase. Once outside, he offered a reassuring smile, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours, the gesture washing away some of your apprehension.

“So…where to? Why are you here, anyway?” he giggled at his thoughts, he didn’t even know what brought you on that train in the first place.

“I’m visiting my parents, they moved back home when I moved out for uni.” you said as he slowly led you out of the station.

“Home? Didn’t know you’re from ‘round here.” he said, curiosity peaking through.

“Yeah, uhm, we moved when I was quite young so, yeah, you?”

“Me? Oh- I-, I’m actually here for the same reason, family ‘n stuff…”

You didn’t want to intrude into his privacy, didn’t think it would be your place, regardless of what went on, you were still reserved.

“So you’re heading home now?” he asked as the silence started to settle between you.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Do you wanna maybe stop by my place to change or summat, before you…” he trailed off, suddenly realising how forward his suggestion might seem.

Your heart fluttered at the thought of spending more time with him, but you couldn’t help but hesitate.

“I don’t want to impose…” you began, but he quickly cut you off.

“It’s no imposition, really. I insist. Plus, it’s close to the train station anyway.” he said, flashing you a reassuring smile.

With a grateful nod, you accepted his offer, your nerves tingling with excitement and uncertainty. The walk to his place was filled with awkward banter, but mostly silence, both of you skirting around the events of earlier.

As you arrived at his doorstep, he held the door open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. The warmth of his apartment enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort settle over you.

“Make yourself at home.” he said, disappearing into another room to give you privacy to change.

You quickly freshened up, feeling a little self-conscious in his space but also grateful for his hospitality. When you emerged from the bathroom, he was waiting for you with a warm smile.

“Feel better?” he asked, and you nodded, returning his smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” you replied softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his kindness.

“Do you wanna stay…or?”

“I should go,” you murmured, though you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving. “It’s getting late, my parents…”

He nodded, understanding the necessity of your departure, yet dreading the inevitable separation. He didn’t want to be left alone with just his thoughts, the reality of it all might just be too much for him to get around.

With a heavy heart, he led you to the front door and he found himself drawn to you, to the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him for that split second before dropping your gaze to the floor. His hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins.

With a silent understanding, you leaned in closer, your lips meeting in a cautious kiss, much different to the ones from just a bit earlier. As he deepened the kiss, his arms snaked around your body, bringing you closer to him and holding you tight in his grip. Touching you ignited a fire within him, melting away any lingering doubts or fears, or worries. With you in his arms, he felt utterly alive.

But to his dismay, reality began to intrude once more. With a reluctant sigh, he pulled away, meeting your gaze with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.

“You should go.” he whispered, without adding anything else.

You understood him. But as you turned to leave, you hesitated, your hand lingering on the doorknob.

“I want to see you again.” and you would end up seeing him again, of course, he was still your professor, but that wasn’t what you meant, and he knew.

“You shouldn’t.”

And with that, you were gone, and he was left standing alone by the doorway, his head pounding in the same rhythm as his heart. Maybe this impulsive encounter was something he could just forget about, he told himself. You were a good girl, you wouldn’t tell anyone, but that wasn’t even his biggest worry. He shouldn’t act like this with you, he shouldn’t even feel this way in the first place. What the fuck was he thinking, you’re almost half his age.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push the frustration and anger bubbling inside away. It didn’t work. He got his bag again and left. He did not want to be alone. Maybe going to see his parents already would be good, spending the night there.

The brisk night air did little to soothe the turmoil swirling within him as he made his way to his parents' house. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the weight of his own conflicting emotions. Arriving at the familiar doorstep, he hesitated before ringing the doorbell, unsure of what awaited him on the other side.

His parents greeted him warmly, oblivious to the storm raging inside their son. Inside his childhood home, memories flooded back as he walked through the familiar corridors and into the cosy living room. The air was tinged with nostalgia.

He spent some time with his parents, they chattered on about trivial matters, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in a labyrinth of regrets and desires he dared not acknowledge.

It was getting late, he’d been up for what felt like too long, even though he woke up quite late, it wasn’t the lack of sleep that tired him out. He excused himself at some point, heading back to his old room.

As the night wore on, he found himself unable to sleep, his thoughts consumed by memories of you. He tossed and turned, wrestling with the guilt and shame that threatened to suffocate him. How could he have let things escalate like that? What kind of person did that make him?

He decided that perhaps taking a bath would calm him down, help him drown his thoughts. All of them. He wanted to not think for just a moment.

With a heavy sigh, he rose from his bed and made his way to the bathroom, the weight of his thoughts dragging behind him like chains. The warm glow of the overhead light illuminated the room as he filled the tub with steaming water, the sound of rushing liquid echoing in the silence.

Slowly, he undressed, the fabric of his clothes clinging to his skin like a second layer of guilt, the feeling only intensifying as he noticed the dried stain on his sweater, instantly remembering the exact moment in which it formed.

Stepping into the water, he let out a shuddering breath as the heat enveloped him, soothing his frayed nerves and easing the tension in his muscles.

For a moment, he allowed himself to sink beneath the surface, letting the water wash over him like a cleansing tide, erasing the stains of the recent past and offering a fleeting respite from the turmoil of his mind.

But even in the cocoon of warmth and tranquility, he couldn't escape the memory of you, the taste of you lingering on his tongue like some bittersweet poison. He closed his eyes, willing himself to forget, to banish you from his thoughts once and for all. But try as he might, your image remained etched in his mind, a haunting spectre that refused to be removed.

He was taking advantage of you, even just thinking about it, but it still didn’t stop his hand from dipping between his soapy thighs. It didn’t stop him from whining weakly from his hand wrapping around his cock and lifting his hips into the touch. You had him pressing his fingers in a tighter grip as he felt himself harden in his fist.

As he surrendered to the sensation, his mind drifted back to that moment with you, the intensity of your gaze, the electric touch of your skin against his. Guilt mingled with desire, creating a tumultuous storm within him as he succumbed to the memory of your passion.

Each stroke of his hand became a desperate attempt to recreate the ecstasy he had experienced with you, yet knowing deep down it could never compare to the real thing. Despite the warmth of the water surrounding him, he felt cold, hollow, craving something he couldn't name but knew he had lost.

His breaths became shallow and erratic, mirroring the rhythm of his movements as he chased after a fleeting sense of fulfilment. But with each passing second, the emptiness within him only seemed to grow deeper, the void left by your absence expanding until it consumed him entirely. Yet still, he couldn't bring himself to let go, clinging to the memory of you as if it were the only lifeline keeping him afloat in a sea of despair.

His hand moved on its own accord between his trembling thighs, seeking solace in the familiar touch. The sensation of his own touch was a bittersweet feeling in a way, he’d much rather feel you, be inside of you, if you’d allow it. And he knew you would, but a part of him wished you wouldn’t. He wished you wouldn’t have fulfilled his fantasies.

In that solitary moment of self-indulgence, he found himself more alone than ever, only accompanied by his groans of pleasure and frustration echoing off the walls of the room. He got so lost in the feeling, he was so close he could almost taste the release until-

“Alex, honey, are you okay?” his mother asked from outside the room.

But fuck he was so close, the interruption made him close his fist so tight around his cock for a split second that he couldn’t stop his orgasm from taking over him once he removed his hand. He gripped the sides of the tub and threw his head back, hitting the hard tile wall, as the cum kept spurting out of him, without a way to stop it or turn back time to get himself out of this situation, or perhaps have it end in a less unsatisfactory way.

“Alex…?” the voice from the other side of the door rang through his ears again.

Alex's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to regain his composure, his mother's voice pulling him back to reality with an abruptness that left him disoriented and ashamed.

"I-I'm fine, Mum," he stammered, his voice strained with embarrassment. "Just... just lost track of time."

He could feel the weight of her concern lingering in the air, her footsteps receding as she presumably retreated from the door. But the echoes of her interruption remained, a stark reminder of the boundaries he had crossed and the secrets he now carried alone. As he sank deeper into the water, the warmth no longer offering solace but instead suffocating him with its false comfort, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find redemption for his indiscretions, or if he was doomed to drown in his own desires.

And as the water grew cold around him, he knew that no amount of scrubbing could cleanse him of the stain you had left upon his soul.

With a heavy heart, he emerged from the bath, his skin wrinkled and pruney from the prolonged immersion. With a trembling hand, he reached for the nearest towel, hastily covering himself.

He stopped to look in the mirror, he should probably shave, he thought. His stubble was beginning to look a bit rough, but he couldn't face himself, he was too vulnerable. Not with the reflection of the cloudy, stained water draining slowly in the background.

He made his way back to his room, the weight of his thoughts still pressing down upon him like a leaden blanket.

He put some boxers on and settled back into bed, he knew that sleep would elude him once more, his mind consumed by the endless cycle of regret and desire. And so, he lay there in the darkness. For hours. Tossing and turning, adrift in a sea of his own making, longing for the dawn to break and release him from the prison of his own mind.

As the first rays of dawn crept through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room, he finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Noon came around and Alex rose from his slumber, the events of the previous night weighing heavily on his mind. He knew he couldn't stay at his parents' house any longer, the suffocating atmosphere only serving to heighten his inner struggle. With a murmured apology and a forced smile, he made his excuses and departed, longing for the solitude of his own apartment.

Arriving home, he found himself enveloped in a suffocating silence, the empty rooms echoing with the ghosts of his past mistakes. He hadn’t been here in what felt like years. And it probably was in fact years, but he didn’t want to admit it. He felt bad for not seeing his family more often, but he often got so absorbed in his work that he just didn’t bother to make the time.

Desperate to escape his own thoughts, he reached for the bottle of whiskey hidden away in the cupboard, the liquid offering a moment of peace. As the alcohol burned its way down his throat, he felt the edges of his consciousness begin to blur, the sharp edges of his guilt softened by the numbing embrace of intoxication. But even as he sought solace in the bottle, he knew it was a fleeting comfort, a temporary distraction from the pain that lingered just beneath the surface.

Maybe he should’ve just bought a bottle of wine on his way here, not go for something so strong. He shouldn’t feel the need for it at all to begin with. But here he was.

Lost in a haze of alcohol and regret, he barely noticed the sound of the doorbell ringing, the noise barely registering in his foggy mind. But when he opened the door, he was met with a sight that cut through the haze. Did he really get that intoxicated? Enough to hallucinate? Because this didn’t feel real. Christ, he was drunk.

There you stood, bathed in the cold glow of the hallway light, a vision that threatened to undo him entirely. Despite his protests, despite his insistence that you should stay away, you had come back to him, drawn by some unseen force that neither of you could resist.

“I’m sorry I just…I wanted to see you, I shouldn’t have come here like this.” you said, your voice trembling from seeing him once more.

For a moment, he was paralyzed, unable to tear his gaze away from you, the memory of your touch igniting a fire within him that refused to be extinguished. But as he looked into your eyes, he saw something there that mirrored his own soul, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.

Despite everything, despite the pain and the guilt and the overwhelming sense of shame, he found himself reaching out to you, his hand trembling as it brushed against your cheek. In that moment, all the walls he had tried to build around his heart came crashing down, leaving him vulnerable and exposed in the face of your undeniable allure.

He didn’t even know when it all started, what pushed him so badly against all his better judgement when he saw you on the train. He’d been thinking about you for what feels like forever, even if he’d only known you for what, a few months?

“I can leave if you want, I-“

He wasn’t even listening as he interrupted you by bringing his lips to yours and embracing you tightly, pulling you into the room, leaving the heavy door to slam shut behind you, the gasp that escaped your busy lips getting drowned by the loud sound.

But even as he leaned in to kiss you, to lose himself in the intoxicating embrace of your lips, he knew deep down that this was a mistake, a temporary pause from the inevitable reckoning that awaited him.

And yet, for now, he allowed himself to…forget, to let himself feel the warmth of your touch and the promise of more that lay just beyond his grasp.

His kisses grew more passionate as he started leading. He held you close to him as his tongue gently parted your lips, exploring your mouth.

A momentary pause came next, as you gently retreated only for a bit so you could catch your breath. His hand slipped over your chin, caressing the skin lower and lower until he grabbed your neck and leaned back in, licking filthily into your mouth as his hands continued to roam your body.

After a while, he slowed down and pulled away from the kiss, his breathing heavy and his forehead pressed against yours, his finger tracing to the bottom of your jaw and tilting it to the perfect angle to be able to whisper in your ear.

"I've been thinking about you all day." he whispered to you as he pressed his lips against your neck. He pressed gentle kisses all over your neck as his grip tightened. His soft breaths against your neck made it difficult to think, difficult to breathe.

“I probably shouldn’t admit that.” he chuckled, though his eyes said otherwise. They gave off a sense of hunger. His lips inched closer to yours, so close. He could practically taste you. “You’re just so pretty, I can’t help myself.”

He kissed you again, and again before lifting you up and pulling you closer to him, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

Slowly, he started walking with you in his arms, as if you weighed nothing. As he did so, he continued kissing you all over your neck. The more kisses he pressed onto you, the more the kisses turned into hickeys, marking you as his.

When you reached the bed, he lost his balance, falling on top of you and struggling to get his limbs to cooperate for a moment. It was like his body finally matched the mess in his mind. His weight felt comfortable though, sinking you deeper into the mattress, engulfed in his smell from being so close to you.

You started unbuttoning Mr. Turner’s stained shirt, the scent of the alcohol taking over his own distinctive one as you moved the fabric around. Your hands were trembling so much you couldn’t even work the buttons.

“I want to feel you, please.” you begged him, wanting to touch him, to see him fully. You never got the chance the last time.

He smirked and sat back a bit, settling on his knees in front of you, struggling to unbutton it himself, though not as much from nerves as it was for you, but for the inebriation taking over control of him. He abandoned his mission of taking it off completely, leaving it to hang on his back as he returned to hovering over you. He slowly started kissing you again, his body pressing against yours as your hands slowly made their way underneath his shirt. He was so warm, the sweat he worked up easing your movements over his skin.

You wanted to taste him too, as much as you loved feeling his lips on yours, you wanted to bite into him, to feel him, so you pushed him off, getting slight protests from him, but that stopped once you started sucking lazily on his collarbone. You couldn’t stop yourself from making little moaning noises as you moved your lips up Mr. Turner’s neck and attempted to run your hands over his chest, the way he was pushing so close to you making it awkward to move.

“Please just, just take it off. Please.” you couldn’t stand anything in the way anymore.

He bit his bottom lip at your demand to take the shirt off but obeyed, nodding as he pushed himself away from you to sit up. He took off his shirt and tossed it to the side, the useless object falling somewhere on the floor.

You resumed your work, kissing over his naked chest, his neck, anywhere you could reach the quickest, your hands roaming his back, shaking from the realisation that you were actually doing this. You could hear him giggle quietly as you kissed over where you bit him earlier.

You felt a rush of excitement as you explored Mr. Turner's bare skin, his warmth radiating against your lips and fingertips. Each touch sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed. As you continued to kiss and caress him, you felt a sense of liberation, the weight of inhibition slowly lifting off your shoulders.

Mr. Turner's laughter filled the room, a sound that fuelled your desire even more. You found yourself drawn to him, captivated by his every movement and expression. With newfound confidence, you leaned in closer, your lips trailing a path across his chest and down his abdomen, wanting to get on with it already. You needed him so bad. You came here with a slight glimmer of hope, but you really didn’t think he’d be so willing to give himself to you again.

“Can I touch you?” you asked tentatively, he was clearly into it, you could feel him hard against your thigh, but you still felt a bit reticent, wanting his approval before going any further.

He chuckled at you. He found it adorable how timid you were. He pressed a kiss against your lips before whispering "You are very sweet. But yes, you can touch me, please."

With his approval, a surge of confidence washed over you, emboldening your every move. Your hand traced a path down his abdomen, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath your fingertips. As you reached his waistband, you hesitated for a moment, savouring the anticipation of what was to come.

He noticed your hesitation, grabbing your hand and moving it down further, his breathing getting heavier as he continued to press gentle kisses all over your neck. Struggling to keep steady for a moment, he helped you by unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down as he led you to explore further, putting your hand on his bulge and grinding against your palm.

“Feel that? Feel what you’ve done to me?” he whispered as you continued tracing the contours of his cock with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Mr. Turner's breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine, fueling your desire even more. His mind started to fog up from you touching him.

His reactions to your touch only served to heighten your arousal, each gasp and moan driving you to explore even more boldly. Lost in the moment, you forgot everything else, consumed by the overwhelming need to feel him, to taste him, to make him yours in every sense of the word, although deep down you knew that was impossible.

You slipped your hand inside his underwear, feeling him directly on your skin, your fingertips running along the length, feeling the wetness dripping from his tip.

As you wrapped your hand around him, he took a deep breath and you saw the way his cheeks started to turn a nice, even deeper shade of pink as you touched him.

"Mhm..." he let out a sigh and closed his eyes.

With his eyes closed and little whimpers escaping his lips, you felt a surge of satisfaction knowing the effect you were having on him. His vulnerability in this moment only added to the intensity of your desire, fueling your own need for him.

Your touch became more confident as you explored every inch of him, committing the sensation to your memory, wanting to remember every single portion of him. You revelled in the way he responded to you, the way his body reacted to your every movement and caress.

As you continued to stroke him, you felt the tension building between you, his breathing was ragged and deep but he was trying to keep control, he wasn’t attempting to touch you any further, other than his lips over your own or your neck or chest.

You didn’t want him to hold back though, telling him “Don’t be afraid, touch me.”

He froze for a moment, he moved his face to yours so that you were mere inches away, his hot breath against your skin making it even harder for you to think.

“Okay.” his whisper was gentle as he moved his face back to your neck.

He began undressing you with a tentative touch. You could sense his hesitation, his desire warring with his restraint. But you refused to let him hold back, craving his touch as much as he craved yours. You quickly pushed your pants down as he worked on your top half, begging him to remove his trousers as well once you were left almost naked before him, only your underwear left standing in the way.

As his hands began to explore your body, you felt a rush of electricity coursing through you, every touch setting your skin ablaze. His fingers trailed a path of longing across your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You found yourself trembling under his caress as his hand reached your cunt, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure coursing through your veins as he slipped it under your panties and used his fingers to spread your wetness before dipping down and pushing three of them inside of you, making you clench around him instinctively, stilling his movement as the stretch of his fingers took you by surprise.

Any initial shock was soon brushed off, being replaced by immense pleasure, giving way to sheer ecstasy. With each gentle stroke as he moved his fingers inside of your hole, you felt yourself unravelling, each time his knuckles pushed back into you, breaking past that ridge, stretching you open more and more, the barriers between you crumbled away. You gave in to the primal urge to be consumed by him entirely.

You arched into his touch, aching for the intimacy and connection that only he could provide, your body responding eagerly to him.

As he continued rubbing and sliding in his fingers, you found yourself closer to giving in, your hand tangling in his hair and pulling roughly on it to bring him closer, to have his mouth on yours again. He could tell you were struggling to kiss him, your mouth going slack every so often as the moans poured out, but your lips must be on his as you come undone.

“Come on love.” he encouraged, his lips moving along yours.

Your senses were ablaze, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. With his encouragement, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of an abyss, your body yearning for release. Your lips met his eagerly, hungry for that last touch that would push you over the edge.

His fingers worked their magic inside you as you tightened around him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you started to surrender. His lips moved against yours in a rhythm that matched the intensity of his touch, driving you closer and closer to the brink. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his hair as you chased that peak of pleasure.

With a primal cry, you finally let go, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you succumbed to the feeling, your body convulsing in his embrace.

“Good…” he whispered and leaned in close to your ear “Well done, love.”

He carefully removed his fingers, leaving you with an awfully empty feeling. He brought them to your mouth, playfully touching the tips of them to your bottom lip. He parted your swollen lips, pushing past them just enough so he could touch the tip of your tongue, letting you taste yourself from him, before leaning in and licking the rest of the length himself, his nose nudging yours as he pushed his face closer to you, his tongue working on the curves and cracks in his fingers, not letting a spot go to waste.

“‘M gonna fuck you now.” he said, sitting up to kick off his underwear, too sticky and wet to keep on anymore, not that it was of use any longer.

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as anticipation pulsed through your veins. As he sat up to discard his underwear, you watched with eager eyes, craving what was about to unfold between you.

“Drawer…right.” he told you.

His command pulled you from your haze, and you fumbled to open the drawer, heart racing with excitement. Inside, you found what you were looking for, and you handed him the condom with trembling hands.

With practised ease, he rolled it on, his gaze never leaving yours as he positioned himself between your legs. The air crackled with tension as he hovered over you, his presence dominating the room. He pulled your panties down low enough that they wouldn’t be in the way. You could’ve probably kicked them off, but you didn’t bother, leaving them to hang somewhere between your calves and ankles.

He positioned his cock at your entrance, nice and ready for him. He tapped the head on your pussy a couple of times, revelling in watching you clench around nothing as he brushed your clit before guiding himself, pushing in just the tip with his thumb.

Then, without further warning, he plunged into you, filling you completely with a single, powerful thrust. A gasp escaped your lips as you arched into him, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming in the best possible way.

His movements were primal, raw with desire as he drove into you again and again, each thrust sending you higher and higher towards blissful oblivion yet again. You clung to him, lost in the rhythm of your bodies moving as one, your hands clawing at his back the only thing holding him down to earth.

But perhaps that wasn’t such a good thing for him. He’d rather be floating off to somewhere than being grounded and remembering the harsh reality, the haze slowly fading away, leaving him to remember the night before.

He couldn’t stop his thoughts, that you could easily get him to be a desperate thing begging you to touch him, he was weak enough to give you that power if you wanted it. Knowing he could get off by himself but it just wouldn’t be as good as you felt. He wouldn’t even have to make it a rule to not touch himself if he had you all to himself, you’d make him feel so good, touching himself would never compare.

A nagging doubt crept in, reminding him of the harsh moments awaiting him once the night was over. He couldn't escape the weight of his thoughts, the fear of vulnerability clawing at him even as he surrendered to you.

He trembled over you. He became aware that tears were rolling down his cheeks and dropping onto your hair splayed out on the pillow. He wiped his face furiously with one of his hands, struggling to support himself with the other.

His body moved on instinct, driven by a hunger that could never be satisfied. He buried himself deeper within you, seeking solace in the connection you shared, desperate to drown out the doubts that threatened to consume him as his mind raced with conflicting emotions, his body consumed by the primal desire coursing through him. With each thrust, he felt himself losing control, surrendering.

As the tears kept welling in his eyes, he fought to maintain his composure, unwilling to let his vulnerability show. But in that moment, as he moved over you, he realised that he couldn't keep pretending.

With a shaky breath, he let go, allowing himself to be vulnerable in your embrace. And as he buried his face in your hair, he found a fleeting moment of peace, a moment of acceptance in your arms.

You didn’t dare to interrupt him, not even knowing how to approach the situation. He was making you feel good, but you could sense his distress nonetheless, petting the back of his hair as his thrusts faltered for a moment, his hips snapping so close his hip bones collided with yours, the rough hair surrounding his cock brushing against your clit as he kept grinding into you, before feeling him twitch inside, his cock pulsing as his release was spilling inside the condom. You wished it could’ve been inside of you instead, the thought of him filling you up again taking you to the edge as well.

After a while, he pulled out and pressed his forehead against yours. His breathing was deeper than it normally was as he held you close to him.

You stayed like that for a while, his skin sticking to yours everywhere. It was comforting, having him so close, so close you could feel the sweat at his nape making your fingers slippery as you brushed your hand through his hair.

He pulled away, just enough so he could see your face and- God. The way you looked at him sent shivers down his spine and made him feel disgusted with himself at the same time.

“Please hate me.” he whispered, his voice shaking and his eyes closing, he couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes.

Your heart sank at his words, confusion and concern washing over you. You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hands, making him look at you, searching his eyes for answers.

"Why would I hate you?" you murmured softly, your voice laced with empathy. You could feel the weight of his inner turmoil, the struggle he was facing.

He wanted to speak, to break the silence that settled after your question, but words eluded him. Instead, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss filled with everything he had to give, hoping you would understand him.

He stood up, the cold air hitting you as he separated himself from your body, and you couldn’t move, stuck there watching him as he stumbled into the bathroom down the hall.

You sat there, the echoes of his whispered plea still resonating in your mind, trying to process. What was he hiding? What was causing him such…pain?

Minutes felt like hours as you sat in silence, only hearing the water running in the bathroom, until that stopped, the only sound left being the faint hum of the air conditioner. Your thoughts raced, trying to piece together the fragments of his cryptic behaviour.

Eventually, you were unable to bear the weight of the unknown any longer. You rose from the bed and made your way to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light peeking through the crack. You pushed it open gently, your heart pounding in your chest.

And there he was, leaning against the sink, his reflection staring back at him with haunted eyes.

Without a word, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him from behind, offering silent comfort. He stiffened at first, debating internally whether he should allow you or push you away, but then he slowly relaxed into your embrace, his body trembling against yours.

"I’m here," you whispered softly, your voice barely above a breath. “What’s wrong?”

He didn't respond, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly, a small sign of acceptance. You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, holding him close as you both grappled with his struggles.

You felt him squirm in your arms, loosening your grip, allowing him to turn around. He looked at you in a way that almost made you crumble to the floor, his eyes red from tears but soft as he pushed your hair out of your face, neatly tucking it back behind your ears.

"I honestly never expected to fall for someone much younger than myself." he finally spoke out, whispering with a soft but pained smile as he looked down at you.

He lifted your chin up and kissed you. It was a soft, gentle, loving kiss. It was clear now, in that kiss, that this was much more than just a fleeting thing for him. After a moment he pulled away.

"And I don’t know if, or- or how I can…cope…with it." he whispered as he pulled you closer to him. You didn’t know what to say to him, the silence of the bathroom only broken by the sounds of you breathing.

"I never meant for this to happen," he confessed, his voice strained. "I never wanted to burden you…I’m sorry."

You held him tighter, feeling the weight of his words like a heavy anchor dragging you both down.

"You're not a burden," you whispered, your voice trembling with unshed tears. "I want this."

He shook his head, his grip on you tightening as if afraid to let go.

"But…you shouldn’t, we shouldn’t-" he choked out, his voice cracking. "I don't know how to love you the way you deserve."

A sob almost escaped his lips, the pain of his self-loathing searing through you like a knife.

"Please don't say that," you pleaded, your heart shattering with each word. "I don't need this to be perfect, I just need you to be here with me."

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his tears staining your skin as he clung to you desperately.

"I'm scared," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper against your ear. "I feel like I-…I shouldn’t..." he trailed off, leaving what he didn’t want to admit unspoken. “I feel like I’m suffocating…I need to…”

In a silent understanding, you guided him towards the bathtub, the soothing warmth of the water promising some calmness, maybe it could help him wash off the bad feelings he had. But he knew it wouldn’t work, he’d already tried it.

Without a word, you settled into the tub together, with you behind him, making him feel smaller, and that was somewhat comforting for him, along with the water rising around you like a barrier against the outside world. His trembling form nestled against yours, seeking solace in the comfort of your embrace.

The silence between you was heavy, punctuated only by the sound of your combined breaths and the soft lapping of water against the porcelain. But within that silence there was a deep intimacy, a shared vulnerability that bound him to you.

Gently, you began to wash away the tears that stained his cheeks, your touch tender as you traced the lines of his face, and even though he had his back turned to you, you could feel him react, his muscles twitching as your wet fingers brushed his skin.

"I'm scared too." you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned his head around awkwardly due to the position and buried his face against your chest, his body shaking with silent sobs as he clung to you. In that moment, you realised just how fragile he truly was, how deeply he needed to figure this out for himself.

"I don't think I can let go of you." he confessed, his voice raw.

You held him tighter, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "Maybe you don’t have to." you reassured him, your words a soft whisper against his messy hair.

After a moment of silence, when you felt him relax, his breathing returning to a normal, calm and steady rhythm, he continued his confessions.

“I thought about you last night…about us, in here. I was alone in the tub but I thought about you being there when I was…I imagined it was you instead.” he said, his words just above a whisper, enough so he could feel the guilt lift off his chest, being honest about it bringing a sense of relief.

With a gentle touch, you brushed your lips against his forehead, a silent acknowledgment of the courage it took for him to bare his soul to you.

“Sometimes…” you stopped yourself, still feeling somewhat nervous around him, but he’s laid himself out for you, it would only be fair to reassure him. “Sometimes I fantasise about you too.”

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and relief. "Thank you." he breathed, his voice filled with an emotion too profound for words.

“I’m here.” your implications heightened by your hand slowly slipping down his chest and over his tummy under the water.

His breath hitched at the touch, his body responding to your caress with a shiver of anticipation, his muscles tightening at the ticklish feeling, allowing you to feel the contours of them under your fingertips.

With each tender stroke, you traced the lines of his form, committing the feel of him to memory as if to reassure yourself that he was truly there, tangible and real in your arms. His gaze never left yours, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions too complex to name.

"I'm here now." you whispered again, your voice a soothing balm to him, the words a promise and a plea rolled into one. "You don’t have to imagine anymore."

As your hand explored the contours of his body beneath the water, a silent understanding passed between you in the quiet intimacy of the bathtub.

Your hand went lower and lower, brushing past the hairs surrounding his v-line, disturbing the pockets of air stuck through them. His lips parted in a soft gasp when you cupped his cock in your hand, his chest rising and falling in tandem with the rhythm of your touch.

"I want you so bad." he confessed, his voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of the water's gentle lapping as you started moving your palm back and forth over him, urging his cock to harden for you.

With each stroke of your hand, his body responded eagerly, his breath coming in ragged gasps as pleasure coursed through him. The water around you seemed to pulse with the rhythm of your movements, enveloping you both in its sweet and warm embrace.

His gaze remained locked with yours, his eyes dark but with a certain softness to them, as he surrendered himself to the sensations that you laid upon his body.

"I know." you murmured, your voice barely audible over the soft sounds of the water.

As his cock hardened in your hand, his body quivered with anticipation, aching for release, approaching quicker than he would’ve thought.

With each gentle touch, you guided him closer to the edge, your movements fueled by the little sounds he made, reverberating through your ears, perhaps from the echo of the room, or from the sheer closeness.

With a newfound sense of urgency, he leaned in, his lips seeking yours desperately as he let go of himself in favour of the pleasure that washed over him. His whimpers mingled with the last few swooshing sounds of the water as he finally found release in your arms, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

You held him close, your own heart racing with the intensity of the moment and you both basked in the afterglow of it, the water lapping gently against your skin, cocooning you in your own little bubble.

"Thank you.” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

His gaze met yours before he intertwined your fingers together. You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as you shared a moment of silent understanding.

As you both rose from the bathtub, the water clung to your skin like a tangible reminder. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering out the door, towards the bedroom.

“Can you maybe, uhm, stay? With me? Stay tonight, please.” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Your heart skipped a beat at his request, a rush of emotions flooding through you. With a nod, you squeezed his hand gently, “Yeah.”

“Wait here.” he told you, wrapping a towel around himself and rushing towards the door quickly, stopping in his tracks and turning back around just as quick. “Here.” he handed you a towel, giving you a small smile before disappearing, leaving you to stand alone in his bathroom, a moment for you to think about how much just happened. With trembling hands, you wrapped the towel around your body, the fabric a comforting shield.

He quickly came back, his sudden return jolting you from your thoughts. He was longer naked and you couldn't help but notice the way his clothes hung loosely on him, a stark contrast to the usual image of him as a confident professor. He was wearing some sweatpants and a t-shirt that was way too large on his small frame, the neckline almost revealing one of his shoulders from how it hung to the side. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t a bit weird seeing your professor like that, despite the intimacy you had shared, seeing him in such a vulnerable state still felt surreal.

He had a change of clothes in his arms, “I thought it would be more comfortable for you, I’ll leave you to change.” he said handing you the clothes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You couldn't help but return the gesture, grateful for his thoughtfulness, murmuring a ‘thanks’ before he exited the room once again.

His t-shirt smelled so much like him and it was soft against your skin, a welcoming contrast to the lingering tension and moreover the awkwardness that still hung in the air, a reminder of the boundaries you had crossed, as you emerged from the bathroom.

You found him waiting for you on the edge of the bed, his expression still giving off uncertainty. But as he raised his head and your eyes met, a certain warmth flickered between you.

With a tentative smile, you went next to him and the fabric of his clothes you were wearing clung to you like a second skin, a tangible reminder of his presence beside you. He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes softening as he took the image of you in. If only he could just pretend for a moment that there was nothing that made this wrong.

As he settled back on the bed, patting the space beside him, you hesitated for a moment, his unspoken invitation hanging in the air. But as you met his gaze, an understanding passed between you, a shared recognition of the thing you both knew you wanted.

With a soft smile, you shifted closer to him, the mattress dipping beneath your weight as you settled in beside him, your bodies aligned perfectly. His warmth enveloped you as you lay side by side, the rhythm of your breaths falling into sync, you felt a quiet acceptance of the moment and all that it represented.

Despite the complexities of your situation, there was a simplicity in the way you fit together, a natural ease that defied explanation.

“Goodnight sir.” you whispered quietly, not knowing if he’d even be able to hear it from the way your face was squished into his pillow.

But he did. As your whispered words hung in the air, you felt a flicker of uncertainty cloud the peace that had settled over you both, feeling him tense behind you. But before you could dwell on it, his response cut through the silence like a knife.

“Don’t call me that.”

The words hung between you, heavy with unspoken implications. In that moment, you realised the weight of the titles that had defined your relationship so far, you understood why he was so harsh all of the sudden. With a soft sigh, you shifted closer to him, the warmth of his body a comforting anchor in the darkness.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you "I just...I don't know what else to call you."

He turned you around to face him, his eyes searching yours for something even he couldn't quite name. "Call me...whatever feels right," he said softly, his voice filled with a vulnerability that mirrored your own. "Just...not sir." he continued as he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

In that moment, you realised the significance of his words, urging you to shed the roles that had defined you. With a nod, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, a gesture affirming your understanding.

"Goodnight..." you whispered, “Alex.”

Calling him by his name still felt weird, but it made your stomach fill with butterflies for whatever reason, blocking him from seeing the smile spreading on your face by quickly kissing the tip of his nose before turning back around.

You drifted off to sleep quickly, much quicker than you would’ve liked, wanting to savour more of the time spent with him.

The same couldn’t be said about…Alex. Alex couldn’t sleep that night, instead he listened desperately to your breathing and the cute little snores you made. He just felt numb, but he reckoned feeling numb was better than feeling terrible about himself, at least for now.

a/n: idk what to say, i hope you like it

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @feyasgotgroove

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #goblinontour #mr turner

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2hoothoots · 3 days

Note

So I was going through your blog (again) and found some of your stuff mentions fsau Raz having ADHD, as somebody with adhd I’m intrigued, may I have some of those headcanons (canons??) related to that? Also, I would give “a penny for your thoughts” but I’m out of pennies, so here’s various images of a drawing of ur blorbo I put next to my animals, note that a rock had to be added in one picture to keep him from flying away (BONUS: his now permanent place with the wifi guardian frog)

NOTHING brings me more joy than seeing physical drawings of these guys, like, out and about. in situations. thank you for this gift, and ALSO for the great ask because it's a perfect chance to ramble

so first of all, canon Raz having ADHD is very real to me. he's constantly fidgeting and moving around, getting distracted by sidequests and scavenger hunt objectives, always talking to himself out loud, gotta write everything down so he remembers it because there's so much to DO!, running away from home because his dad yelled at him one time and now Raz assumes he must hate him forever... i could go on, but i think there's a lot of room for interpretation there!

in my headcanon, he never got diagnosed as a kid. maybe there were some notes about it in his reports each year, sure - but a little hyperactivity and distractability never seemed to slow him down. he excelled in lessons and on missions, and when he was with his family their performances gave him something to focus that energy into. it was only really when he turned 18 and graduated to a full agent that the cracks started to show.

because there's a big difference between the responsibilities you have as a minor, and the responsibilities you have as an 18-year-old living away from home! one who's expected to cook and clean for themselves, and take care of adult life stuff, and also work the 9-to-5 office job he's just graduated into that involves sitting in front of a computer and write reports all day.

short-term, he found he could get himself to power through a deadline with energy drinks and psi-pops (a lot of psi-pops...)

long-term, something had to give. he was working himself to exhaustion, constantly stressed, swinging between days spent staring at his computer screen doing nothing and all-nighters desperately trying to finish his paperwork before the deadline. it just didn't make any sense to him. he'd finally started his job as a Psychonaut, he was living independently like he'd always dreamed, he'd gotten top surgery after planning it for so long. he should have everything he ever wanted. why wasn't he happy?

following a deep post-surgical depression, about a month before his 19th birthday Raz was living out of his car, couch-surfing or sleeping in his office. he got kicked out of his apartment after falling behind on bills and rent. it wasn't that he didn't have the money, it was all just too much for him to stay on top of.

he'd probably have stayed in that misery hole for a lot longer if Frazie hadn't marched into his life and demanded he let her help him move into a new place, or she was telling mom that he was homeless. together, they sorted through all of his possessions from the last place - everything that had been hastily shoved in his car, or tossed in a box in his office, piled in a heap that was giving him anxiety even looking at it.

things do get better for him from there.

when he eventually explains things to Hollis, she gently suggests that he should get a roommate. he ends up moving in with Phoebe, and they become pretty good friends after a couple months! something about having another person around to help do the chores and wash the dishes and share the space helps, even if it takes him a while to admit it.

he gets his ADHD diagnosis, and finding the exact right medication and dose is a journey he's still on years later - but they're a huge help in getting him to actually knuckle down and finish his work on time. and the whole thing ends up being a chance for him to take a step back and really think about what he wants to do with his life. he'd always assumed that being a Psychonaut was his dream, but he'd never really reckoned with what that dream would look like before.

in the end, he sticks with it, but also decides to follow Lili's example in branching out. he applies to study a part-time Bachelor's in Psychology on a remote course, and gets accepted. juggling missions and paperwork and study and relationships (because the whole thing made him realise he also wasn't setting aside any time for himself, and wow, dating is a thing) is a lot - but he manages to figure it out, day by day.

(Lili comes back to the Psychonauts after graduating. she and Raz have both changed a lot over those four years, but on their first mission together they hit it off like a house on fire - and the rest is history!)

#psychonauts #future superstar agents au #i really want to go more into this period of their lives for all three of them honestly #Raz and Phoebe's friendship is really sweet to me and i'd like to explore it more #and Lili's adventures at college! finding herself in an environment where for the first time in her life people /don't/ know her family nam #and Dogen finally realising he /has/ a life to live ahead of him. that it's not just isolation and tests and pills that don't work #young adulthood is a weird time! lots of ups and downs #but they all make it through okay #fsau raz #fsau frazie #babyfaced 18-yo raz is so funny to me. why are you making him experience the horrors he's literally just a little guy #ask #ALSO your pets are all wonderful. please give them kisses from me

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writing-whump · 3 days

Text

A punch to the gut

Dylan wants to see a real wolf fight. It isn't exactly safe. First time meeting Rip. A bit of violence, blood and emeto.

Dylan didn't want to meet Isaiah Wolfson, yet everywhere he went to the city, the guy kept following him around.

Was the guy as tough as Isaiah Wolfson? Is there an Executioner as strong as Isaiah Wolfson? Did you ever meet Isaiah Wolfson?

Oh my god. There was no escape of hearing the name.

But Dylan didn't want to meet this surely stuck up arrogant wolf with a giant shadow. And it wasn't because he must have been wealthy as heck or had reputation over three countries or was from the coolest, most powerful wolf family with probably the best training in the world.

It was the least because he managed to charm his sister away from them. That was one reason Dylan would never admit to and never forgive.

Okay, they weren't getting along that much, when he was 17 and his shadow was all over the place and his grades took a nose dive...and yeah, Seline was academic and too smart and a show off and always the best at everything that his parents expected him to be at least half as good at.

But she was his sister and he missed her. It felt like giant fail that she moved to Vienna without him (1) that she found a pack in matter of months after leaving (2) and that she had the Isaiah Wolfson for a boyfriend. Jesus fucking Christ. It couldn't be any worse.

While Dylan was the famous packless high school dropout of 19 that had loving but entirely human parents and absolutely no connections to get into one.

Yeah, he had friends in all towns he lived in, in Bratislava and in Vienna, from primary school and high school and then the other high school and then from the little summer jobs and bigger jobs he kept switching up.

He had many wolf friends too. Peers. Other pups. They sparred together and worked out and gave each other tips on the best shakes to get the right kind of toned muscles. And boxed and trained and everything.

But they had their own packs and now they had girlfriends and dads they could spar with and not protect.

Yeah, he was ungrateful. He had great loving parents. Who loved staying home and working in the garden, making their own tomatoes and shit. It was awesome.

For them.

It was boring as hell to a 19 years old shadow wolf, who just wanted to feel like...like a proper wolf for once.

And yes, he had advantages for being so "human". He was one of those rare wolves who had friends across packs, who also got along with human kids his age, who was great at break dancing, got invited to every and each big beach volleyball play on the Donaukanal. He was invited to all parties, human, wolf, everything.

But he wasn't a damn witch to be invited into a pack in three months. And he wasn't Isaiah fucking Wolfson to be recognised on the streets.

So when Dylan heard of that not so offal street fighting ring in the lawless district, where wolves of different packs could fight with shadows and fists - unsupervised - he was intrigued.

His friend was explaining the risks and safety measures and the rules that came with wolf fights and shadows in public and blablabla.

Dylan heard 'unsupervised' and 'wolf fight' and knew what to do with his Friday night.

He was a decent fighter. Maybe never been in a real fight, like hostile 'we aren't friends' kind of fight, but he would do well, right?

No better way to learn a bit how he would fare.

...

He imagined it a bit like an underground Fight club, not a few wet streets between apartments, but hey. It was a start.

The wolves looked the right kind of scary. Torn up shirts and even earrings! The guy had to pierce his ear everyday for it to work, his shadow would heal it up with each sweep.

He watched the fights in fascination. There really was no referee, just a circle of wolves and the two guys currently fighting.

No shirts, contact allowed, no gloves. And shadows, all naked and black slashing out at each other.

Maybe the pavement wasn't wet just from yesterday's rain. Now that he looked closer, maybe it was kind of bloody too.

He had never been in a party where the wolves truly made the best of their healing. Meaning, they didn't mind getting injured quite drastically. Making them lives bleed or tear up the arms or muscles or break bones, knowing they would heal up with a sweep.

Or until morning.

"Hey. What pack are you from?" It came from the guy with huge arms in a white undershirt.

"Oh, me? I'm Dylan Sil-"

"No, dumbass. Your pack."

"I'm packless at the moment," Dylan said with a grin. "You?"

The wolf threw a look behind him, then returned the smile. Though there was something about the crookedness of it that didn't seem genuine to Dylan.

"Forrester. And my friend over there is from the Starks." He said it in a way like Dylan should know them. Dylan was a little behind on all the names and packs he should keep track of.

There were the old ones, but he wasn't sure if that meant they had the oldest members (guys that looked 40 but were actually 140) or they were in the city the longest.

Then there was pack order by size and number of branches, which wasn't necessarily by importance, money, property, profession or size of district they claimed as territory. And allainces. And proness to fights.

To cut it short, there were many factors. None of which involved Dylan or that someone would explain to him, cause a wolf with human parents was apparently super rare.

Not the fun kind of rare.

"How long do you have to wait for a round?" Dylan asked. Conversation was good right? "Is there like a list or...?"

The guy chuckled. "Hey, Toby. This guy says he wants a round."

"Can you get me inside the ring?" Dylan asked hopefully.

"Nah, man. Only proven guys get into the ring."

"How can you prove yourself?"

The guy snickered, joined up by who was apparently Toby. And another guy to his left.

"You need a lesson. A testing fight so to say."

Dylan was starting get a bad feeling about this. "One on one?"

All three of them laughed. "Nah, newbie. Someone's gotta teach ya the rules."

Dylan wasn't sure how they got away from the crowd, but no one seemed to mind. The circle around the two current fighters cheered and laughed and screamed.

And he was pushed out, just a few meters away, but somehow with his back to the wall. "Hey," Dylan repeated the greeting he heard. "Maybe this is a misunderstanding. You guys could-"

"What? You wanted to fight, didn't you?"

Dylan frowned, eyes narrowing. "I can take you. One by one, so it would be fair, but I can take you like this too. You don't know what you are playing with."

This was posture. Or maybe pure belief. Dylan just knew that face to face to a wolf, you never showed fear. You needed to convince your attackers you were too much of a hassle to fight.

Or so he heard.

The first guy chuckled while the two others exchanged hungry grins.

Dylan crouched down, thinking of the boxing gloves in his backpack somewhere at the feet of the crowd, calling up his shadow.

That triggered another round of laugh from them. It was a little disheartening.

"Oi. What do you guys think you are doing?"

The guy - the wolf - that showed up wasn't the tallest. He didn't have the biggest muscles and he wasn't the oldest either.

If anything, he looked scrawny. Average high, a mop of curly black hair that needed a haircut, his clothes kind of torn up and dirty.

But the trio of would be attackers still froze, each of them averting their gaze.

"We are just playing around with some fresh meat, Rip," Toby said. "He is new. He doesn't know the rules."

"So you are helping out?" Rip said dryly.

The first guy, the one in the white undershirt, growled. "He is ours. Go find your own."

Rip focused his eyes on him. They looked dark from the distance but Dylan thought they weren't black. What kind of colour was it? They looked like catching a sunlight on a sharp knife.

"You are on my turf. You need my permission to fight." He nodded towards the ongoing fight. "You want to fight somebody without it, you fight me."

Even the big guy ducked his head this time. "He needs a fucking lesson."

Rip shrugged. "Alright."

Dylan blinked. That wasn't the kind of answer he expected.

Before he could brace himself or even move, there was a smear in the air and suddenly there was a leg shooting up, kicking his feet from under him.

Dylan fell flat on his back, his shadow flailing around in confusion.

Rip was above him, his leg on the top of Dylan's neck. "You came to fight, eh? You forgot to ask."

Dylan tried to say something, but the weight on his throat intensified. Probably a rhetorical question.

"Let me show you how it's done."

The last thing Dylan remembered was Rip's sneaker heading towards his face.

...

Dylan woke up with taste of iron on his tounge.

He shot up into a sitting position, doubling over as pain immediately flared up in his ribs. His right side was burning.

Gingerly, he reached out towards his face. It had fried blood all over it, from his nose and mouth.

He spit on the ground, doubling over himself. His stomach was doing somersaults as if trying to catch him up on the events.

"How stupid can you be to say you are packless?"

Dylan whirled around towards the voice.

Rip was sitting just a few meters away. Ripped jeans and a bloody shirt with short sleeves, but somehow still radiating danger.

"That's the one thing you never, ever say, even if it was true. Makes you an easy target, fool."

Dylan blinked in confusion. Wasn't Rip the one who kind of saved him...and then kind of beat him up?

He rolled his shoulders, trying to make an overview of what was hurting. His stomach was one thing, his ribs, his nose, his throat...he reached for his shadow then, in a way he never did before. But it was there, jumping to respond, happy and willing as always.

It wasn't something he ever had to. It was usually just fun or a twist of an ankle or hurting teeth.

But this time he pulled his shadow over himself like blanket. The wave of needless ran through him, prickling in a soothing way.

Dylan let out a deep relieved breath as the pain disappeared, carried away by his shadow as it settled back down.

He looked at Rip, understanding downing on him as his skull stopped throbbing. "Thank you."

That had the other wolf jumping up to his feet with a snarl. "Don't you say that. I didn't help you."

Dylan smiled. "Of course you did. You saved me from being torn to pieces by three by beating me up yourself. Really smooth. Not the most comfy approach," he said with a wince. Somehow his stomach was still rolling inside him, despite the healing.

"You are an idiot. What are you doing here?"

Dylan carefully got to his feet, not liking how Rip towered over him when standing. "Just looking around. Exploring." He gave him a wide grin, hoping there wasn't blood stuck on his teeth. "What pack rules here?"

"Why do you think it's called the lawless district, huh? So that wolves could claw at each other in the open, without pesky humans."

"But we can't use our shadows in public to seriously hurt someone.."

Rip's head went back. "That's the kind of rules that work in the center. Where humans would get scared if your shadow as much as stuck out. Not here. You could freaking die here, man."

Dylan nodded, trying to take it seriously. The intent in those guys definitely wasn't friendly. He had a little trouble focusing though, with the nausea making the hair on the back of his head stand up.

He swayed a little. It just all seemed so foreign and too far away from reality. His reality.

Rip shook his head. "You better head home, city boy. This is not the park for you."

But that was exactly why Dylan was there. To prove it was, that he could make his way- a sudden burp snuck out.

Dylan pressed his hand against his lips, swaying again. What the hell was this about?

His stomach rolled and flipped and then suddenly rocked up with a twist.

Dylan barely manged to brace himself on his knees before his lunch loudly lurched out of him onto the grass. They were standing on grass?

Dylan burped, his stomach churning angrily. "I don't-uuuurp- understand. I just healed up-" another wave of vomit shot up his throat and splashed in the grass between his feet.

Rip sighed. "Punch to the gut. You can heal the injury, but not the effect."

"Oh, that's interesting, I never heard- urghh..." Dylan vomited again, almost losing his balance. He managed to take a few steps away from the pool of sick, falling to his knees.

Everything was spinning, so leaning his forehead against the cool grassy ground felt good. Grounding.

"Nice meeting you. Rip, right?" he said in the general direction of the other boy. "I'm Dylan." Which would have been a lot cooler of an introduction if he didn't burp right after. He wrapped both his hands around his stomach as it bubbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Hey, Dylan," Rip said, sounding nearer. He sat down near the sick wolf. Not moving closer, but not moving away in disgust. "You just hurled all over your shoes."

#sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #hurt/comfort #whump writing #werewolf wip #my writing #Dylan #here! have the newbies #*hides

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kissesfrombangtanatnight · 16 hours

Text

Memory Lane

AN Inspired by this throwback pic of Jey! You can't tell me they all weren't swimming in it LMAO! Enjoy!

You're both 17. I do not own this image.

Year of 2002

Jey. "Mama, I don't want to be here." You groan as you fold your arms in annoyance. Your parents were forcing you to join them for one of their co-workers/ friends kickbacks at the beach. You sat in the backseat of your parents SUV with annoyance written all over your face. You'd rather be at home in your bed watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or reading a book while your grandmother watched Jeopardy downstairs in the living room.

"Come on sweetie, it's going to be a nice little family and friends get together. Besides Joshua is going to be there." She grins.

"Of course he's going to be there mama, it's his dad hosting it." You roll your eyes.

Joshua Fatu, or Jey as everyone in school called him was a classmate of yours along with his twin brother Jonathan and his cousin Joseph Anoai. You didn't know much about these three except they were voted as Most Handsome in your senior yearbook. They also played football together, basketball, baseball, and pretty much any other sport that they could have a ball in their hands. They were quite literally the popular kids of your school. You, on the other hand, kept to yourself. You were the top student at your school, in the poetry club, a part of your school's student government association, and were even active in your community. Not to toot your own horn, but you were also in the American Sign Language, Spanish, German, French, and Chinese clubs.

You often try to stay clear of boys like Joshua as they seemed to be nothing but trouble. It's crazy because while you tried to avoid them, boys and girls flocked to them. Boys envied them or wanted to be their friends and girls wanted to date them. You remember when Joseph Anoai started dating one of the cheerleaders and she thought she was the shit. But truth be told, you're sure any girl these three guys associated themselves with would.

"I could be coming up with a cure for the common cold or the world's first solar-powered car and yet here I am being forced to party." You sigh. You weren't trying to come off as rude and ungrateful, but you just preferred your solitude.

"Sweet heart please, try and live a little. It's not going to hurt you to enjoy the beach and free food. I'm just as invested in your future as you are, but honey, please. You're 17 years old, not 30. Have fun while you can."

"I have to agree with your mother princess, this could be good for you to make friends."

"I don't want friends, they disappoint me."

"You look very beautiful today sweetheart." Your mother says changing the subject as you arrive at the beach.

"Thanks, mama." You mumble as you look down at your selected outfit for this afternoon. A Juicy Couture tracksuit with your matching purse and sneakers. Your hair was pulled into two curly pigtails, gold bamboo hoop earrings adorned your ears and your lip gloss was poppin' and shinin against your naturally brown and pink lips. You looked good!

You scan the beach as you see numerous bodies moving around freely with no care in the world. Music blasted, food was eaten, and laughter and smiles filled the air. Your dad found a vacant park, turned off the car, and then turned to you.

"Look sweetie, try to have fun, okay? It's not that bad and I'm sure you'll turn out to like it more than you think you will. Promise you'll try." He says, giving you a small smile.

"Yes sir. I promise."

You walk behind your parents as you all walk through the sandy beach to the area that Mr. Fatu or Rikishi as some call him, had designated.

"KISH!" A tall stocky-looking man turns around with a gap-tooth smile.

"USO! Y/M/N! WELCOME!" You watch as your parents approach him and give him a friendly hug. He then turns his attention to you. "Well hello, you must be y/n?" You step up and take his awaiting hand.

"Nice to meet you, sir." You say shyly. You always found it awkward meeting new people.

"Nice to meet you two sweetheart. Please enjoy yourselves, get some food, and enjoy the music, we have the reservation til midnight. If you'd like, the teens are over by the fire pit." Your parents stand talking with him and you ease your way away from the adults. You sigh as you find an empty chair on the beach before settling down. You were glad that you had decided to bring your diary along with you so that you could write in it. What else would you be writing in your diary beside your imaginary relationship with Chad Murray from One Tree Hill? You were so engrossed in your diary that you didn't hear someone shouting for you to look out.

"AYE WATCH OUT!!"

"Huh?" Before you could move, you were suddenly struck in the face with something hard, knocking you off the chair. You hear sand being kicked around as someone kneels to your side.

"Ayo, you okay?" You look up confused as ever to see Joshua and his twin brother Jimmy standing over you.

"Y-Yeah I'm-"You stop mid-sentence feeling something warm pouring from your nose. You look down at your now blood-stained jacket.

"Oh shit she bleeding!" Joshua smacks Jimmy's arm.

"Don't be cursin in front of a lady." He scolds his older brother. Soon Joseph appears beside his cousins.

"My bad. I didn't mean to hit you! I called out but you didn't hear me." Of course, he was the one that threw the ball. Josh helps you to your feet as he inspects your nose.

"I don't think it's broken."

"Do you need anything....maybe some water?" Jimmy asks.

"Smh foo what she gone need water for? She needs a towel." Josh says rolling his eyes. Jimmy shrugs.

"I'll be fine." You mumble stumbling to your feet. You grab your diary, throwing your jacket off you and holding it up to your nose. You hear all three of them arguing as you walk off to find your parents. You soon find them sitting with other adults in a circle. When they see you approach, they immediately jump to their feet.

"Sweetie, what happened?" Your mom asks running to your side. Before you can answer, you feel a presence beside you. You turn to Josh whose face is a little red.

"We threw a deep ball and it accidentally hit her in the face." He says sheepishly. "We weren't paying attention, my apologies Mrs. y/l/n."

"What did I tell y'all about throwing that ball around too close to others? I-"You cut off Mr. Fatu's rant.

"It's okay Mr. Fatu, they called out to me, I just wasn't paying attention. They didn't mean to." You reassure giving a small smile. "Mama, can I see the key so I can get something else to wear?" Your mother nods as she hands you the car key. You were thankful that you had some spare clothes in the trunk or else you'd have to walk around with this bloody outfit on. You quietly thank your mother and walk off. That is until you hear Josh calling out to you.

"Hey wait for me lil mama." You inwardly roll your eyes. You bet he says that to all the girls. You keep walking despite him calling out to you. He finally runs up beside you and walks with you in silence. You finally make it to your parents' car and get your spare clothes out of the trunk.

"If you don't mind, can you please tell my parents I'm going to the convenience store across the street to change?" You honestly just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. No, he hadn't done anything, it's just that you're super awkward in front of boys; especially cute ones.

"No, I wanna walk with you." He says an annoyingly beautiful smirk on his face. Rolling your eyes you walk off, once again leaving him behind. You make it across the street to the all-too-familiar convenience store. You come here so often that the owners know who you are.

"Um....I'll wait out here while you change," Josh says rubbing the back of his neck. You only nod as you walk off to the bathroom. It takes you about fifteen minutes before you're satisfied with your outfit and walk out. Your stomach growls and you realize that you haven't eaten since breakfast. You had to get back to the beach to get your something to eat. You search the aisles for Josh and finally find him in the snack aisle.

"Zebra caaaaaakes! Mmmm!" He was stuffing his face with the delicious Debbie cake.

"Joshua! What did I tell you about eating the products before paying?" You both turn around to see the store owner, Mr. Jones standing at the end of the aisle with a broom in hand. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing as you watch cream and crumbs fall from Josh's mouth.

"Sorry Mr. Jones." He smiles guiltily as he picks up three more of the delicious Debbie cakes.

"Smooth. Very smooth." You laugh as he goes into his back pocket and pulls out a $20 bill.

"Want anything?" You say nothing as you pick up a bag of Doritos. You turn and walk down the aisle with him and walk to the fridge to get a watermelonflavored Arizona.

"Thanks-" Your words cut off by him pulling you into a mind blowing kiss. This was your first kiss in a long time. Well, the first one doesn't really count. I mean it was in second grade.

You quickly pull away from him and slap the hell out of him.

"Ssss oooo damn. That's gotta hurt!" You hear Mr. Jones mumble behind you before sweeping off down the other aisle. Josh looks at you shocked while holding his cheek.

"What was that for? I thought we was vibin-"

"Boy you don't know me to me movin like that! What's wrong with you?" You say glaring at him and folding your arms. His cheeks flush red as he looks away embarrassed.

"Y-You're right, my bad lil mama."

".....At least ask me first." You say biting the corner of your lip. Now that you're getting a good look at him, he was looking fine as hell right now. He was decked out in a red and black jersey, durag on and not to mention he was iced out. No wonder the girls went crazy, he was a looker. But then again you should know cause his daddy was fine too! Hell everybody in their family was.

He licks his lips as he approaches you, you getting a good smell of his cologne as he pushes you up against the fridge locking you in. Your heart began to pound a million times faster in your chest. You look up at the tall male as he grasps your chin gently.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes." You lock your lips with his and its like heaven. You can't help but wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer. He tried slipping his tongue pass your lips but you pop his chest.

"Aight nie, don't y'all be back there hunchin! I know both y'all parents!"

Youtwo finally pullaway, hearing Mrs. Jones, Mr. Jones mother says as she pulled down her glasses and eyes you two suspiciously. You both can't help but laugh.

"Don't be getting greedy. You can't have all that."

"You gave me a taste and now I want the whole plate." He smirks biting the corner of his lip. "Hey would you like to join me for the movies tomorrow? 1408 just came out and my friends and brothers are bringing their girls. Maybe you'd like to be my plus one?" Your ears perk up.

"I don't know, it's a school night and-"

"Don't worry Cinderella, I'll have you home before the clock strikes 12." He smirks. You playfully hit his arm. His smile grows bigger and you can't resist.

"..Fine. I'll see if I can get my parents approval."

"Fair enough lil mama. Here's my phone." He takes out his sidekick phone and hands you his phone. You playfully roll your eyes and put your number in after handing him your phone.

"Let's head back, our parents are probably looking for us."

"Yeah you're right. Listen, I know we know who each other are because we go to school together. But I want to formally introduce myself, I'm Joshua Fatu." He extends his hand for you to shake.

"Y/n." You say softly as you give him a small smile.

"Y/n? Y/n? BAE! WHERE YOU AT?!" You're knocked out of your thoughts hearing your husband step into your bedroom. You were currently folding clothes when you were putting away his old red and black jersey with the #7. The same one he wore when y'all first met officially.

"Baby you good? I been calling you for the past ten minutes." He says walking over and wrapping his arms around you. You wrap your hands around his neck with a smile. Who knew you two would be together for more than a decade.

"Yes baby I'm fine, just going down memory lane." You grin holding up his jersey. He breaks into a smile.

"I still remember you slapping the hell out of me. Hurt a brotha pride."

"Whatever. You just knew you had me." You whisper against his lips.

"Of course. I love being yours and you being mine."

"I love you too."

"My lil headache. My smile. My frown. My right. My wrong. My pain. My happiness. My present. My future. My everything. I've given you my all. My heart and I don't want nobody else to have it. I love you Mrs. Fatu." He says kissing you with each word.

"I love you more."

#wwe smut #wwe bloodline #wwe x reader #jey uso fic #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x black oc #wwe the usos #the usos

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mimisempai · 3 days

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I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 5/8

Chapter summary - Your now is not my now

They meet but how can a meeting go well when one knows and the other not...

On Ao3

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

The Dirty Donkey - 2024

Eric exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell us it was your birthday? We could have thrown you a little party or something. No one should be alone on their birthday."

Crowley replied with a lopsided grin, "I don't really like to make a fuss about my birthday. It's just the passage of time after all."

Eric looked at him with piercing eyes and said gently, "You keep a lot to yourself, don't you?"

Even though he was beginning to open up a little more lately, Crowley couldn't argue with him, and besides, he felt strangely comfortable with the other man.

There was no judgment in Eric's eyes as he continued, "There's nothing wrong with that. But sometimes I wonder what else you have in your life besides your work. Do you have a family? A girlfriend or boyfriend? Hobbies? A pet?"

Crowley was silent at first, but in the face of Eric's kindness, he finally began to talk about himself.

Furfur's house - At the same time - 2022

Furfur placed a glass of champagne in Crowley's hands. Still in a state of shock from the unexpected party, he let Furfur lead him to be introduced to his circle of friends. If one could call it a circle, when it gave the impression that half of the city was here. The next few minutes were nothing but toasts, hugs and congratulations.

Now that the surprise had worn off, Crowley tried hard not to show that he was annoyed.

They arrived near Aziraphale and Arthur, who had their coats in hand and were about to leave.

Furfur said in a high voice, "Crowley, I'd like you to meet Aziraphale and uh... Arthur. Aziraphale will help us find our lake house."

Crowley nodded at them and replied with a smile, "Hello. Thank you for coming."

The two men greeted him in return when suddenly, seeing that they were holding their coats, Furfur asked in a dramatic voice, "Are you leaving already?"

Aziraphale looked at them, his gaze slipping to Furfur's arm around Crowley's waist before he replied, surprising himself, "No, actually, we're staying."

He felt Arthur's irritated look on him, but decided to ignore it completely.

Furfur exclaimed, "Perfect! That's more like it. Come on Crowley, I've got some more people for you to meet."

Crowley gave a pinched little smile and followed his enthusiastic friend with a not-so-enthusiastic air.

A little later, Aziraphale was looking for a restroom and passed by a half-open bedroom door. Inside, Furfur was kissing Crowley. Aziraphale quickly stepped back and heard Crowley say, "Not here, not now. We have... guests... A lot of guests."

Furfur asked, "Were you surprised?"

Crowley replied in a tone that Aziraphale found more annoyed than pleased, "To be surprised, I was. When are they leaving?"

Furfur asked worriedly, "What is it Crowley?"

Crowley sighed and replied, "Nothing. I'm fine... It's just I've had a long day, plus the crowded train, I don't know. I guess I thought we'd be alone tonight. You know I don't like to make a big deal out of my birthday."

Furfur replied plaintively, "But they're my friends, babe. They'll be our friends. I want you to get to know them. We're going to make a life here."

Crowley sighed and said quietly, "I know. I know. And don't call me babe. I don't like it. And you know it."

The Dirty Donkey - 2024

"We moved in together after I graduated. He rented a big house. A beautiful place, north of the city. We were going to live there forever. That was the plan."

Eric, who was listening attentively, asked him softly, "What happened?"

Crowley shrugged and replied a little bitterly, "The problem was, it was his plan, not mine. It always was. I just followed. "

Eric nodded, looking understanding, and Crowley shook his head before continuing, "No, I'm not being fair. I thought I wanted it too. I don't know. Anyway, I ended it."

Eric put his hand on his arm and said soothingly, "It was and is your right, Crowley. You don't have to justify or apologize, whatever your reasons, you had the right to end the relationship. Maybe for a while you thought you'd be happy that way, and then you realized you wouldn't. Time has taught me that happiness can take many forms, you just have to grab it when it's there, but also know how to let go when it's gone."

They both took a sip of their drink and Eric asked, "So who are you writing to?"

Crowley didn't answer right away.

He didn't know how to explain Aziraphale.

Faced with Crowley's silence, Eric added gently, "Sorry. It's none of my business."

Crowley shook his head and replied, "No, don't apologize. You're right, there is someone. "

He twirled his glass in his hands to calm himself and added, "It's kind of a...long-distance relationship."

Eric's eyes lit up with interest as he asked, "How long?"

Crowley sighed, "A long time...sort of."

"How did you two meet? "

Crowley blushed slightly and replied, "We didn't meet. "

"What?"

"We just write letters to each other."

Eric laughed softly and replied, "Is that a joke?"

Crowley shook his head again and replied, "No, I promise."

"You mean it's like a pen pal?"

Crowley nodded and Eric laughed again, but Crowley didn't join in and drained his glass before continuing, a little sadly, "That's the story of my life. Keeping everything at a reasonable, safe distance. Everyone... The man who loved me, who wanted to marry me, I pushed him away, I ran away, I kept running away. Whereas now, the one man I can never meet... I want to give him my whole heart."

Eric shook his hand and looked at him sympathetically, "So you've never really talked to him face to face? "

"Nev..." Crowley paused, suddenly realizing something, "No. Wait. Once..."

Furfur House - 2022

Crowley had to get out after his talk with Furfur because he really needed some fresh air. He felt more and more suffocated and knew that he was partly to blame.

He sat down on the stairs and, after a heavy sigh, suddenly realized that he wasn't alone.

Aziraphale, the blond guy in the old-fashioned suit, was there too, all alone.

There was silence, neither of them knowing what to say.

Then suddenly Aziraphale just smiled and said softly, "Happy birthday."

Crowley grunted and replied, "If one more person comes and says that to me tonight, I'll kill them."

Aziraphale looked apologetic and stepped back a little in surrender.

Crowley sighed and sheepishly replied, "Sorry for the reaction, I know it's no big deal. Just another year. I guess I'm not really in the mood to party."

Aziraphale replied, "Me neither, actually."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and asked, "Then what are you doing here?"

Aziraphale hesitated and replied, sitting down on the steps next to Crowley, "I was hoping... to meet someone."

"Who?"

"Someone Furfur told me about."

Crowley hummed and said, "Oh, I see, like a reunion?"

Aziraphale chuckled, "Something like that."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Aziraphale sighed and replied, "Trying to find some courage."

Crowley smiled, "I understand. Better than you think."

He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the chill of the night, and asked, "So you're the one who's going to find us a house on the lake, right?"

Aziraphale replied in a confident voice, "Yes, I will.

Crowley was a little taken aback by the certainty of his answer and asked curiously, "Are you a real estate agent?

Aziraphale laughed softly and replied, "Me? No! Absolutely not. But I do have a lake house."

Crowley looked genuinely surprised now, and Aziraphale spontaneously added, "And you'll be renting it when I move out."

Realizing his mistake, he coughed and pulled himself together, "I mean, you could. If you want."

Crowley, finding the other man a bit odd, asked, "When are you moving out?"

Aziraphale replied, "I'm not sure. I guess when you get your degree in astronomy?"

Crowley gave him a puzzled look.

"How do you know?"

Aziraphale wanted to punch himself in the head, he really wasn't good at lying, so he tried to make something up, "Furfur said you were in college and that's what you were studying."

He paused and the silence was awkward.

Crowley looked truly puzzled, and Aziraphale felt like he'd lost the thread of the conversation, if there was one.

Then Crowley asked him, "What makes you think I or we would like it? How can you be sure?"

Aziraphale replied earnestly, "You'll like it. "

Jumping from pillar to post, Crowley asked, "Can you swim? "

Aziraphale replied, a little surprised, not seeing what the other man was getting at, "Sure, I took lessons when I was a kid. At least my father gave me lessons."

Crowley shook his head and laughed before saying, "No, I mean, can you swim in the lake from your house?"

"Oh."

Aziraphale laughed with Crowley at his misunderstanding and replied, "Uh, no. We can't do that. It's an inconvenience. There's no path to the water."

"That's too bad."

Aziraphale nodded before adding, "Actually, I thought.... You'd have to see it, but since I've been there, I've had the idea that I could change it. Nothing major. But a few new elements could really change the house. A patio out back overlooking the lake. And stairs..."

Aziraphale paused, embarrassed by his enthusiasm when Crowley shouldn't have seen the house.

But Crowley continued his sentence, "Stairs down to the water? "

Aziraphale nodded eagerly, "Yes. That's it, a gentle downward curve.... That way we can walk out the back door and down to the lake whenever we feel like it."

"That sounds really nice. In fact, I think I might like it."

Then he turned his head toward the house, where the party was still in full swing, and sighed, "It's pretty late. Shouldn't you be getting back inside? If you want to find the woman of your dreams tonight?"

Aziraphale replied with a wink, "Actually, that would be the man of my dreams."

"Oh..."

"Surprised?"

"Oh no, not really, it's always nice to know that I'm not the only one swinging for the other side or a little bit of both."

Then Crowley gave him a teasing nudge on the shoulder and Aziraphale chuckled in response before adding, "To answer your question, I'm not interested in finding the man of my dreams, I'm much better off here."

Crowley blushed slightly at the implication of Aziraphale's words.

Aziraphale then asked him gently, "Crowley, have you read Persuasion by Jane Austen?"

Crowley gasped slightly and replied in surprise, "It's my favorite book. Why?"

"I have a friend who likes it."

Crowley replied with a half-smile, "Your friend has good taste."

"Yes, he has good taste." Aziraphale replied, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, before adding, "I've been meaning to read it. Could you tell me about it?"

Crowley paused for a moment and thought before answering. He wrapped his hands around his knees and began to speak, resting his chin on his knees, "It's about... waiting. These two people meet. They almost fall in love, but it's not the right time and they have to go their separate ways. Then, years later, they meet again. They have another chance. But they don't know if too much time has passed, if they've waited too long, if it's too late for things to work out.”

Aziraphale replied quietly, "That sounds sad."

Crowley shook his head and replied, "Oh, no, it's not. Not at the end. I wouldn't have read it, I hate books that don't have happy endings. I'll tell you a secret, I don't look like it, but I'm a huge fan of romantic comedies, you know."

Aziraphale winked at him and whispered softly, "Thanks for sharing that secret with me. I swear I won't tell anyone."

They sat quite close together, thighs touching, and Crowley straightened a little before turning his head toward Aziraphale, not seeing that the other man had also moved his face closer.

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment before leaning towards each other until their lips met.

They kissed for a long time, forgetting everything around them.

Crowley felt the sense of suffocation suddenly vanish, and Aziraphale felt he was where he belonged, both of them experiencing an incredible sense of adequacy, of harmony, at that very moment.

After a moment, they parted to catch their breath and Crowley moved back, saying hesitantly in a hoarse voice, "I don't know why I did it."

Aziraphale raised his hand and gently stroked his cheek, "We both did this, not just you, listen Crowley, there's something I need to confess to you, I..."

He was interrupted by the door opening behind them and they quickly separated before standing up at the same time, facing Arthur and Furfur.

There was an awkward silence until Crowley decided to break it, "Oh, Furfur, hi. Uh, Aziraphale was just telling me about his lake house. It sounds really great."

Furfur, his face set like stone, replied in an icy voice, "Great."

Crowley turned to Aziraphale and continued, "We're, uh, definitely interested. "

Aziraphale nodded and replied, "Good. I'll be in touch." He stared at Crowley for a few seconds, then whispered, looking at the ground, "I promise."

Arthur, his gaze dark, intervened, holding out his coat, "Aziraphale. It's late."

Aziraphale reluctantly followed, taking one last look at Crowley before heading to his Beetle.

The ride home was deathly quiet, and he dropped Arthur off in front of his house. As he closed the car door, the carpet seller said bitterly, "You know, if you didn't want to have anything to do with me, Aziraphale, you should have told me. I know I'm intrusive, but you never say anything because you never want to hurt people. But not saying anything can hurt too, you know".

Aziraphale now felt bad that he had really hurt Arthur's feelings, and he was really sorry, because even though he didn't want anything to do with him romantically, Arthur didn't deserve to be treated like that.

He said sheepishly, "Arthur, I'm really sorry. I... I'm not very good at this. I really like you as a... friend, but I don't want to go any further. I... I'm in love with someone else."

As he said it out loud, he realized his own feelings for the first time, and he knew in that moment that it was true.

He was in love with Crowley.

Arthur noticed Aziraphale's realization and his face softened a little as he replied, "It's going to take me a little while, but don't stop coming to the store or talking to me because of it, okay? I like you as a friend too, not just as a lover. I don't want to lose our friendship. So I'm probably going to give you a hard time for the next few days, but that's okay. We will be fine."

Aziraphale nodded, touched by Arthur's kindness and promising to treat his friend better, "I... I don't deserve it, but thank you. "

Arthur said nothing, closing the car door gently and heading home.

Aziraphale drove to the lake house, lost in thought, and was surprised to see the mailbox flag up.

He opened it and grabbed the note inside.

Oh, my God. It was you.

I remember you.

Why didn't you tell me who you were?

I'm waiting by the box, I know you're home at this time because I remember what time you left Furfur's house.

So you can answer me now.

Please do.

And once again started two years apart, another conversation, punctuated by the movement of the little flag.

A: You would have thought I was crazy.

C: But I liked you. There was something between us. This was our chance.

You should have told me.

A: What about your boyfriend?

C: What about yours?

A: He's not my boyfriend!

C:Well, he's not my boyfriend anymore!

A:He was then! I mean he is now.

C:Your "now", not mine! And maybe this "now" would be different if you'd said something then. Maybe now would have come earlier, or maybe now would be our now, not just my now, you know?

A: No! I don't know!

Crowley's apartment - 2024

Crowley reread their conversation, grumbled in frustration, crumpled up the letter, and threw it across the room in exasperation.

A missed opportunity.

Harry whirled around his feet and rubbed his legs as if to comfort him.

Lake house 2022

Aziraphale, equally frustrated by Crowley's lack of response, threw down his pencil and stomped toward the house.

Once inside, he slumped back in his armchair, sighing and gazing thoughtfully out the bay window as Harry lay down and rested his head on his feet, sensing his owner's distress.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human au #alternate universe

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mydarlingdearestdead · 2 months

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Loki saying that he doesn't want to be alone gives me a stabbing feeling in my chest

#thought I'd share #loki laufeyson #loki #loki odinson #i have never posted marvel on here #loki series #loki season two #loki season 2 #He just wants his little found family to stay together #was that really too much to ask?#huh Kevin?

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yanderenightmare · 2 months

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TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself.

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange.

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him.

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long.

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving.

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him.

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together.

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed.

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended.

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.”

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance.

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face.

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...”

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air.

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

JJK – Gojo, Yuta

BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima

HQ – Miya twins

CSM – Yoshida

BLLK - Nagi

4K notes · View notes

kasagia · 5 months

Text

Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

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unclewaynemunson · 9 months

Text

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

#look i know we all go crazy for the trope of steddie waking up and being surprised the other is still there #or one of them waking up to an empty bed only to find the other in the kitchen making breakfast #but have something a lil more painful instead i guess #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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il-miele-che-scrive · 3 months

Text

Go for his brother part 3

Part 2

Part 1

charles_leclerc The day @/y/n_leclerc and I decided to spent the forever together

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y/n_leclerc Did I mention I'm in love with you? 😭

↳charles_leclerc Yeah I think you mentioned that a few times in the vows, ma chérie

y/n_leclerc I love it when you call me french terms of endearment oh my god 😩

username1 SHE'S HOOKED

↳username2 FOR LIFE 🤞

pierregasly And I really thought I wouldn't see that day

↳y/n_leclerc Life's full of surprises isn't it?

username3 Charles calls her ma chérie, Arthur used to call her mon bébé 😭 do you get deja vu

↳username4 y/n: *breathes* y'all: do you get deja vu omg she used to breathe with Arthur 😭

↳username5 You remember mon bébé but do you remember chouchou? 😭

username3 OMG YES he used to call her chouchou and she used to call him Thurthur 😭

username4 GET. OVER. THEM. Y/n is now married to Charles BESIDES Arthur CHEATED on her. She deserved better than Arthur and now she has it.

pascale_leclerc Congratulations my loves ❤️😘 the wedding was beautiful

↳y/n_leclerc Merci maman🫶

↳username3 Pascale is just happy to have Y/n in her family and I live for this

username2 Maybe it was all Pascale's idea, when she found out Arthur cheated, she told Charles to keep Y/n in the family lmao

username3 And he stayed committed to the job💪

danielricciardo The instant photos part was awesome, I bet it was Y/n's idea

↳y/n_leclerc Yes it was 🫡and it was really nice to see you, Max, Lando and Carlos having lots of fun with it once the alcohol kicked in

charles_leclerc Not to mention now we have some things to blackmail you with

danielricciardo Bold of you to assume I'd be ashamed of any of these, Charles

carlossainz55 Looking forward to seeing Y/n in the paddock more often! 😊

↳y/n_leclerc You know, Carlos, some people have jobs... You should look it up sometime...🫶

↳username5 Is she now gonna go for Carlos lmao

scuderiaferrari Big day for our favorite couple ❤️ evviva gli sposi 👏

↳charles_leclerc Grazie mille❤️❤️

↳y/n_leclerc We're the favorite couple 🥹

georgerussell63 Even though you were engaged I didn't believe you'd actually do it until it happened

↳charles_leclerc Thanks George, supportive as always

username1 That's what I call KARMA

username2 But when are we going to talk about the argument Arthur and Charles had before the wedding?

↳username3 What were you in their house? Lmao

username2 Another gossip page said that Arthur and Charles argued in front of the wedding chapel

username3 That's so unrealistic, don't trust everything you see on these pages

username4 Hey so do we know if there were any arguments?

↳f1gossip There's no way we'd have any information on that, it was a very private ceremony. That is highly doubtful though, I don't think this could've happened. Even Arthur knows better than acting like this on his brother's wedding day.

username3 That's so right, Arthur isn't dumb enough to act like a dick on his brother's wedding day, he knows it's his own fault

username5 Yeah it would be so weird if Arthur was playing angry now like man it's all consequences of your own actions, be an adult

username6 Even if it wasn't showing, Arthur was definitely dying on the inside. Imagine seeing your ex girlfriend at the altar next to your brother. You're thinking "it should be me with her", but it's too late

↳username7 One day Y/n and Charles will have kids, they'll be a happy family. Charles will have everything Arthur could want - a seat in F1, Y/n as his wife, little Leclerc(s) running around. Arthur will always be the "less successful" Leclerc. No wonder Lorenzo stays out of the spotlight

username8 Now you're making it sound depressing lol

username7 Tbh I cried a little thinking about this even though I know that's what Arthur deserves for cheating on Y/n

username9 I wonder what happened between Arthur and [ex best friend's name]

↳f1gossip She allegedly broke up with him and a few days later was seen on a date with a fellow Formula 2 driver.

username7 This keeps getting better

username9 WHO???? I NEED TO KNOW???

username8 I saw someone say she was seen with that Piñacolada guy

username9 Piñacolada?? Do you mean Franco Colapinto?? 💀

y/n_leclerc Charles isn't my fiancé anymore 👰‍♀️🤵

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charles_leclerc I told you it's not the best way to say it

↳y/n_leclerc You can't stop me, tesoro

username1 OMG I've just noticed Y/n changed her username

↳username2 well, she got married...

lilymhe Wedding of the century

francisca.cgomes Every little girl dreams of a perfect wedding. That was this wedding

↳exbestfriend I've never dreamt of a wedding as a kid

francisca.cgomes Girl nobody asked

exbestfriend Why would a kid think about it? Don't they have better things to do? Like playing with toys and BEING A KID?

y/n_leclerc Pls not under my wedding post, get your jealous ass outta here

yoursister I'm so proud of you Y/n 😭

↳y/n_leclerc I know, you couldn't stop crying 😭

yoursister You know it were happy tears, I love you so much 😭

username3 LMAO [ex best friend's name]'s comments are pure comedy 💀 do you think she'll try to steal Charles now?

↳username4 Doesn't matter, Charles will never cheat on Y/n

arthur_leclerc You looked amazing

↳username2 Get the fuck out of this comment section

↳username3 All you can do about it now is cry, you wasted your chance

↳username4 The way Y/n doesn't even bother to reply

alex_albon I bet you wouldn't have the guts to wear the dress to the paddock next race

↳y/n_leclerc You're right, I won't 🙌 it's too beautiful to take any risks

charlottesiine Dream dress 🤍

↳y/n_leclerc I know right 🥹 when I saw it I knew right away THAT'S THE ONE

↳username5 wtf what's Cha doing here

username6 They follow each other since that one time they hung out together

username5 ahh the famous "we both suffered a Leclerc" thing

username7 GUYS I AM CRYING Cha said dream dress, I wonder if she's thinking it should be hers, like she should be in Y/n's place 🥹😭

↳username8 Y'all need to stop, first talking about Arthur, now about Charlotte. Go touch some grass

username7 but, unlike Y/nArthur, ChaCha broke up on good terms, so this could be her

username8 But it's not. Grow up. So disrespectful to talk about it on a wedding post

username9 I am really happy for Y/n and Charles. But I can't stop thinking this could be Y/n and Arthur. Or Charles and Charlotte

↳username7 I bet Arthur also can't stop thinking about this lmao he'll never find someone who'll love him as much as Y/n did

username9 Let's not go that far maybe...?

username1 Their voices are so similar 😭 do you think Y/n sometimes accidentally calls Charles Arthur?

↳username2 Do you think she sometimes says the wrong name in bed? 💀

username3 This whole story, from the moment Arthur cheated to the end of this interview, is my Roman Empire

username4 I love that they stay on good terms even after what happened with Y/n

↳username1 In this exact interview Arthur said he didn't talk to Charles for WEEKS, he didn't even show up on the family dinners, until one day he understood he can only blame himself

username5 You can see that Arthur is happy for his big brother, but in his voice you can hear the pain 😭

username6 When Arthur said "Now I see what I did was hurtful and I'm glad it was Charles who took care of Y/n after it happened, instead of some random guy who would possibly repeat my mistake" it broke me 😭

↳username7 "Y/n is an amazing woman and I hope Charles will give her everything I couldn't." 😭😭

username8 when Ch asked "do you think you'd deserve a second chance? if Y/n and I weren't married, of course" as a joke and A replied "honestly? no, I was a douchebag and the cheating wasn't the only issue in our relationship, she truly deserved better" AND THEN GAVE HIS BROTHER A BIG SMILE WTF?? 😭😭

username9 At least he realizes his mistakes😭

username4 Not only cheating?? What else?? I need to know immediately

username8 They didn't say it in the video, I doubt they would ever say it publicly unless Y/n decides to speak about it (but I don't see why would she, being happily married now)

username10 They should release one interview of the Leclercs just talking about this whole Y/n situation

y/n_leclerc Maybe it all happened a bit quick, but my husband is a race driver for a reason

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lilymhe I GASPED when I saw the caption

↳charles_leclerc I asked her nicely to look for some basic quote 🙁

pascale_leclerc Can't wait to meet our little Leclerc❤️

↳y/n_leclerc You'll be the first one to find out❤️

yoursister That's how I find out? Through a post?😭

↳y/n_leclerc I wanted to surprise you 🥹

yoursister I'm kidding, I'm happy for you guys 🩷

francisca.cgomes Someone check on Arthur

↳y/n_leclerc KIKA!!!!

↳username1 I love Kika 😭

↳username2 Jokes aside someone really needs to check up on him

arthur_leclerc It really suits you 🩷

↳y/n_leclerc Don't say that to Charles, he already told me he'd like 2 more 😭 I don't think I wanna go further than just this one

charles_leclerc I'm not gonna force you! If you wanna stop at one, that's fine by me

y/n_leclerc We can get a puppy instead? Right now it would be perfect so the puppy and the baby can entertain each other and grow up together

charles_leclerc Alright, ma chérie, we can talk about that 😂

↳username1 "I hope Charles gives her everything I couldn't" 😭 so that's what he meant

↳username2 Alexa play the one that got away by Katy Perry

username3 I just know Arthur will be the fun uncle omg

↳username4 I don't think he'll spend much time with the baby, if I were him it would always make me think "wow, that baby could be mine if I didn't mess up" 💀

username3 It seems like he understood his mistake and came to terms with the consequences. Plus, he didn't say it, but I feel like in the video shared by the gossip page he implied not wanting kids

username4 What do you mean? How?

username3 "I hope Charles gives her everything I couldn't" and then said the cheating wasn't the only reason for the breakup and now, a few weeks pass and we get the pregnancy announcement

username4 Well, maybe getting cheated on didn't work out so badly for Y/n in the end

alex_albon Project Verstappen? 😏

↳georgerussell63 *project Hamilton

charles_leclerc *project Leclerc 😌

alex_albon Better start saving up for the baby's therapy then

charles_leclerc Welcome home, Jules Hervé Leclerc, born July 17 🤍

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#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 smau #f1 social media au #charles leclerc smau #Charles leclerc social media au

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beejunos · 19 days

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UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader

Summary: As Alastor's shadow starts to act strangely, hidden feelings are brought to light.

This wonderful story was written from @lustylita's wonderful idea! The story is completely theirs; I just had the pleasure of putting it into words. Their original post can be found here.

Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, hidden feelings, angst

The last couple of weeks have been very strange to you.

Well, stranger than the hotel usually was.

Over the past few weeks, you have helped your best friend, Charlie, with her little passion project. The Hazbin Hotel - your only chance at redemption!

While you couldn't say that you inherently believed in her dream, you would have been a poor friend if you hadn't tried to help her—emphasis on tried. Growing up within Hell's elite, where someone always handed you everything on gold platters, didn't foster any usable skills that could help run a severely understaffed hotel. The very thought of having to clean your own room had almost immobilised you.

Did you really need to vacuum the walls and the ceilings every week? How did the cleaning staff back at your parents' manor even do it? The manor was huge!

Thankfully, you had not been forced to clean for long because shortly after Charlie had opened the hotel for business, an unwanted guest had come knocking at the door. Alastor and his somewhat reluctant companies, except for Niffty, who seemed to thrive in the chaos, quickly made themselves at home in the hotel.

The same night they arrived, you and Vaggie had sat Charlie down in their room and begged the princess not to let the radio demon stay. After all, the tales of his deeds had even reached your family's manor in the Envy ring of Hell. But Charlie had been persistent, saying that maybe by staying in the hotel, she could change his ways. You loved your friend; you really did, but sometimes you wanted to shake some sense into her violently.

There was nothing you could do about the radio demon and how he just took over many of the work duties you had at the hotel. Waltzing in as if he owned the hotel, he had taken one look at your work and deemed it unsatisfactory.

"No, no, let me do it, doll!" he would say condescendingly, making rage lick up your spine, "We would want this to be done well for Charlie, now, wouldn't we?"

You had lost count of all the times you fantasised about grabbing a chair and introducing it to his face.

He made you feel incompetent, and worst of all, he was right. Most of the work you had done that he had redone was of better quality, more detailed, and better planned. If you had been a weaker demon, you would have given up, apologised to Charlie and gone home to your parents, but so, if the heavens would be your witnesses, you were going to crush that smug little bastard of a sinner!

And so began your imaginary battle with Alastor about who could be the best executive producer. If you had asked Alastor, he would not have had any clues about what you were doing, only that it finally seemed like you were taking your job seriously. That said, he still did not like you. You were a spoiled little demon brat who had never worked a hard day in your life, and worst of all, you were sloppy with your work.

But time kept ticking. The days passed, the hotel was filled with new residents, and somehow, you and Alastor were able to work together. Nevertheless, you only managed to do it by never being near each other, which worked wonderfully for you because the man could actually be quite okay when he was silent and on the other side of the room.

You could have continued to live like this for as long as Alastor decided to live in the hotel. There was just this teeny tiny thing that perplexed you.

Alastor's shadow liked to be around you.

It had begun quite innocently with the shadow coming over to you one night when you were sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with yesterday's newspaper in your lap since you had started to do the crossword puzzle on the back of the paper. You had been staring at the same clue for what felt like an hour, and you just couldn't figure it out. Out of nowhere, a shadowy finger had tapped on the clue to get your attention, and when you looked up, two empty holes for eyes had looked back at you with the biggest twisted grin full of teeth you had ever seen.

"Fuck! Don't do that!" you whispered forcefully, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet that finally had fallen over the hotel lobby. "What do you want?"

Prepared to be bothered any second now by the radio demon, you got even more confused when the shadow started doing pantomimes. Why in the seven Hells was it swimming across the wall?

You looked on as the shadow began to swim back to you, tapped on the clue and started to swim again.

"Swimming? But it has nothing to do with activities! It is something about effort," you said as the shadow returned to you. Since it could not speak, the shadow just started to nod its head and tapped on the clue again.

"Is it a word derived from the word swimming?" you asked hesitantly as the shadow continued to nod.

You turned back to the clue before you—a word for no effort needed and swimming.

"Swimmingly?" you asked the shadow, who gave you an even bigger sinister smile and nodded again before it disappeared up the stairs. Again, you were left in the lobby with only the crackling fire as a company, looking over at the stairs after the strange entity that was Alastor's shadow.

The next couple of weeks just grew more and more strange with every day. Out of nowhere, Alastor's shadow started to just interact with you. It began as innocent waves to you behind Alastors back, and at first, you wouldn't wave back, but when you saw how sad the shadow got if you didn't return its greeting, you started to wave back to it. On a few occasions, Alastor had caught you in the act, which quickly prompted you to swat the air around you as if you were trying to get rid of a fly.

When the waves weren't enough for the shadow, it started to appear around you, helping you in various ways. Once, it even helped you find some important paper you needed for your job that you were convinced Alastor had hidden from you.

It turned out that Alastor's shadow was much more pleasant company than its physical part, and you often welcomed the shadow's help with your crosswords during the evenings.

However, you were again thrown for a loop when the shadowed behaviour started to change. It began to interact with you even more, seeking you out during the day and staying for long periods at a time, just hanging around you or observing what you were doing.

One day, it had even brought you a blueberry muffin from the bakery you liked across town. You had no idea how it had even done that. For all you knew, shadows were not physical things and could not interact with the physical world. However, you were promptly proven wrong when Alastor's shadow took your own shadow's hand and pulled you down the hallway to show you the roses that had started to bloom outside of the hotel.

It was a paradox, a mystery that intrigued you. Alastor's shadow, a creature of darkness, was surprisingly sweet, charming, and, at times, downright romantic. How could such a lovely thing be attached to such a vile being?

It had been like any other day. Alastor's shadow had found you in your office early in the morning, going through all the paperwork that needed to get done that day. In its shadowy hand, it held one blueberry muffin and your favourite coffee mug with a sleepy bear on it, along with the text Bearly Awaken written underneath.

The coffee had been divine because, somewhere, the shadow had learned to make a cup of coffee exactly how you wanted it.

You continued with your day in the presence of Alastor's shadow, walking together down the corridor, through the lobby, and out the front door as you chatted with the shadow. You had gotten quite good at interpreting its pantomimes and overexaggerated emotions and often found yourself laughing at any antics the shadow pulled.

It followed you all day as you walked around the city, picking up the materials Charlie needed for her next exercise with the hotel residents. The shadow even helped you pick out the colours for the ribbons and paints.

At one point, the shadow's long finger had brushed against yours. It had been a cold sensation, almost like being touched by mist, but that had not mattered to you as you blushed before looking away. Missing how the shadow practically folded in on itself when it saw your reaction.

Was it possible to date a shadow and not the being it was attached to?

The sun was setting when you and Alastor's shadow got back to the hotel. The lobby was almost empty except for Husk, who was polishing martini glasses by the bar. As soon as he saw the two of you enter the hotel, Husk leapt over the bar and rushed over to you.

"I don't know where the fuck the two of you have been, but you need to leave now before he finds out that your back," Husk whispered to you as he gripped your arm to turn you around towards the door.

"And you!" he said towards the shadow, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

The shadow made a high-pitched whine as it stepped closer to you. You were about to ask Husk what he had meant when a loud voice boomed inside the hotel.

"Where are you?"

Husk's hand tightened around your arm as he started to pull you towards the door. You followed after him, paralysed by action, as a stone of fear got stuck in your throat. The shadow looked at you, then back at the stairs and then back at you again with anxious eyes.

Loud steps could be heard from the hallway above the staircase, and Alastor's shadow began to be dragged towards the stairs as if by an invincible force. It desperately dug its claws into the ground, and the shadow let out a wailing scream as it looked at you with big, pleading eyes.

Alastor was calling his shadow back to him.

The shadow continued to fight the force of its master's call, leaving deep claw marks on the floor, and, as if a gunshot had been fired at the room, the force wholly let go of the shadow. The shadow rushed back to you, where it clung to your body like a second skin.

"Get back here, you disgraceful thing!" Alastor could be heard shouting as a massive hand gripped the hallway doorframe and pulled itself forward. It was the hand of Alastor's most demonic form.

Beside you, Husk had begun to shake as his claws dug into your skin.

"You need to run. Now!" he tried to push you towards the door, but it was too late. From around the corner, Alastor stepped from the dark into the light, but as he stepped forward, he shrank in size. Still, he looked terrifying.

His eyes were a deep red with volume controllers as irises, hiding any emotions he may have had. His antlers had grown in size, sharp and imposing, making the sinner look almost regal as he sauntered down the stairs.

"Thank you, Husker." he said, his voice dripping in venom, "I can take over now."

Husk was about to protest loudly when he disappeared in a puff of red smoke, and you were left alone with the enraged sinner.

"What do you think you are doing?" Alastor snarled as you started to shake where you were standing. A small whine could be heard beside your neck as the shadow clung closer to you.

"I don't know..."

"I'm not talking to you!" Alastor's look silenced you but confused you for a second before you saw his eyes drop down to your neck, where the shadow hid.

"Come back here and stop resisting," Alastor snarled again and stepped towards you. The shadow gave away a low whine as it clung closer to your body, and you realised it didn't want to return. In a fit of temporary insanity, you placed a protective hand over the arms of the shadow around you and stepped away from the sinner.

"No!"

"What do you mean no? It's my shadow," asked Alastor as he looked back at you in confused rage.

"He doesn't want to be with you anymore," you snapped and turned your nose up. You stepped to the side to walk around the sinner, effectively walking away with his shadow, but as you walked past Alastor, his hand shot out, and he tried to grab your arm. But you were faster; with your other hand, you slept Alastors hand away from you and the shadow.

"Will you stop it! Don't you understand that we want nothing to do with you, so just leave us alone!"

With determined steps, you started walking over to the staircase to get as far away from the deer demon as possible. However, you didn't get far until you felt the shadow clung even more to you as it let out a pitiful sob. Its head had fallen over your shoulder as it looked up at you with longing eyes—a gaze it shouldn't be giving you since you had just saved it from its cruel master.

"What's the matter?" you asked it as you tried to caress its cheek, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw something that you never thought you would see.

Without a smile and ears hanging low against his head, Alastor looked at you with the same miserable longing that the shadow looked at you with. And that's when you remember something your mother used to say to you when you were a child, a long time ago.

Our deepest desires, our most precious wishes and longings, hide in our shadows. Everything we want follows us within our shadows as the weights of our souls.

You wanted to kick yourself for being so foolish, for not understanding until now. Maybe a small part of you had always known, but it had been easy to ignore in your imaginary rivalry with the sinner. But a shadow never lies. Even the ones who can think and act on their own. They will always mirror their owner's heart's wishes and act upon them when the host won't take charge of getting what they desire.

"You're in love with me," you whispered. It was not a question but a statement—a statement that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity but not long enough.

“How? What? When?” you asked, desperate for answers.

Alastor walked hesitantly towards you, looked you deep into your eyes and did something you never thought he would do. He kissed your cheek.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm lips softly touched your cheek, and when he pulled away, you could still feel their presence against your skin. As if you were branded by their sweet touch.

"Come now," was the last thing he said to his shadow as he walked around you and back up the stairs. Alastor's shadow made a melancholic chirping noise before it let go of you and followed its master.

You were left alone in the big hotel lobby. Wishing that it was your lips Alastor had kissed and not your cheek.

PART 2.

I really hope it lived up to the expectations, but I loved writing it! It got a lot more angsty than I first intended...

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor x reader angst #hazbin hotel alastor x reador angst #hazbin hotel angst

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lqveharrington · 4 months

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Fake-Love | C.S.

summary: a boy was bothering you, so you and Coriolanus take it into your own hands.

pairing: university!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: a very unstable, toxic relationship between the two, (arranged marriage), making out, comments toward the reader’s body, implied sex (it isn’t written), mentions of murder

a/n: soooo, as i write for the Silver Roses & Fallen Snow series, i decided to write a billion one-shot for our favorite blond to keep the era for him alive so i can finish my series 🫡. also, the uniforms are based of the gilmore girls’ one, since they are in university now and not academy.

The arranged marriage between the Snows and the Edevanes were always doomed to happen. You were born the same year as Coriolanus, and your families were already close with each other.

It was just, you and Coriolanus despised one another.

The feeling was 100% mutual. The reasoning for such a feud was due to the never ending fight for the brightest student in the Capitol. During your years in Academy, it was a tie in every class. Of course, your hatred for one another was more tame.

It only really changed when Coriolanus came back from serving the Districts as a peacekeeper. There was something about his demeanor that was much different, plus the way he was built could have made you weak in the knees.

He joined University a little after it had started for your class, but that didn’t stop him from becoming the best. You were currently the top of your class in University, but that changed when he joined under Dr. Gaul. His jabs to your reputation were much stronger than in Academy. He would make comments about you when walking down the hall behind you, making sure you understood that he would do whatever it took to be back on top.

So, when your parents dropped the bomb on you that you were to be engaged to Coriolanus as soon as possible, your blood boiled at the male. You could not believe he stooped that low to get back at you.

And about a few weeks after the initial announcement, you and Coriolanus officially got engaged, becoming the sudden talk of the Capitol.

“How did you keep your dating life such a huge secret?” A reporter stuck their microphone up to your face as you and Coriolanus exited a car together.

“Well, we were just so love struck with one another that we didn’t want others to know.” Coriolanus smiled, answering the question for you.

His arm was looped around yours as you were guided into the University, answering all the questions being asked of you both. The moment you stepped inside the school grounds you let go of the male, dusting off your uniform’s plaid skirt.

“What time do your classes end?” He muttered toward you, adjusting his own uniform.

“I have study hall all day, I’ll be done whenever you are.” You state as you head for the library, ignoring the icy stare your fiancé was giving you.

Since Coriolanus studied under Dr. Gaul, you knew you would have to stay a lot longer in the University’s library than usual, but you did not necessarily care. You had textbook assignments due, and it was an opportunity to get everything done.

That was the goal until a first year at the University started bothering you.

“I told you, I’m busy.” You stand from your seat, furrowing your brows at the young male. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a book for my psychology lessons.”

“Aw, don’t be lame.” He inched toward you, grabbing your wrist. “Why don’t we have our own fun instead? I’m sure you’re just as beautiful underneath your skirt.”

Your eyes harden at his words and mess with your engagement ring, “You‘ll have to excuse me, I have to be somewhere.”

Swiftly, you weave through the different shelves full of books. You swore under your breath when you hear the footsteps of the male behind you, sharply turning into a more secluded space. To your surprise, you found Coriolanus pulling books from the Hunger Games previous years.

“What are you doing in here?” You question, quickly moving around to his left. “I thought Dr. Gaul needed you today?”

“She wanted me to understand the history of the previous games to help with the programming and DNA of new animals.” He mumbled, looking through a thick book from the first Hunger Games. “What are you doing?”

“This guy was hitting on me.” You shrug, meeting Coriolanus’ darkened eyes. “What?”

“What guy?” He placed the books down on a cart, grabbing your chin.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I don’t know his name, but he’s a first year here. Why do you care so much?”

“Because, gorgeous, you’re my fiancée. Any guy who even looks your way that isn’t me is dead.” He backed you into the shelf, hand still tight on your chin. “Did he saying anything or touch you?”

“Yes.” You whisper, gaze dropping to his lips before back up to his darkened blue eyes. “He grabbed my wrist and said that ‘I’m probably just as beautiful underneath my skirt’.”

Coriolanus took his other hand and firmly placed it on your hip, eyes wandering your face. “I’ll kill him.”

You turn your head to the side as you heard footsteps nearing before Coriolanus slammed his lips onto yours, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss without a care in the world.

“Mm, Coryo—“ You part, feeling your skirt hike up. “Are you insane?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles, shutting you up with a harder kiss, slipping his tongue through your parted mouth.

Coriolanus changes his hold on you, both hands now on your waist. You shift your hips, earning a quiet groan from the male. He retaliates by tracing a hand up to your throat, slightly squeezing it which earned a moan coming from you.

“Oh, so you’re just a whore.” The male scoffed from the front of the aisle, looking at the couple.

“Kill him?” You ask between kisses, tugging at his tie. Truly, you didn’t know he would take that request to heart as the male soon was deemed missing a day later. But for now, you were caught up in the heat.

Coriolanus grins, leaving one last kiss to your swollen lips. “He talks to my soon to be wife like that, it’ll be worse than a quick kill.”