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kasagia · 4 months

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The grudge (Losing your memory pt. 2)

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You promised you would destroy him. Be his ending at all costs. The fight between you begins. Both about his position as President of Panem and about the feelings you still have for him. But the question still haunts you... is your Coryo really gone? The second part of Losing your memory, but can be read as a separate oneshot. Although I recommend reading it. Inspired by: "The grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo and @uhnanix idea/request Taglist: @uhnanix @serving-targaryen-realness @diannana @aoi-targaryen @omgsuperstarg @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @un06 @tallulah477 @snowspubes @hueanhdang @snowspubes @phsychobanana @blythlover ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

"Wait... what do you want to do?" Clemensia Dovecote asks in shock when you invite her over a few days after your birthday party.

"You heard me." you reply calmly, playing with the Sejanus bracelet on your wrist.

"This is madness, Y/N. You can't… you…"

"You think so?" you ask, amused by her scandalized reaction. "The Capitol has seen stranger, worser things." you say, getting up from the couch and walking over to the mini bar to pour you both a drink. "Besides, you have to admit, it's an… exciting idea. People are going to love it… well, maybe not the old farts and those idiots from our year, but... I'm very optimisitc about it."

"Yes, but… my God, HE is going to hate you for this." she says with a growing smirk on her face. You laugh heartily and hand her the glass.

"This is the least of my worries. The question is... will you stand by my side?"

"Y/N? You've been quieter lately, has something happened?" your mother snapped you out of your thoughts as the three of you ate dinner together.

You replayed your conversation with Clemansia from a few months ago, wondering how to break the news to your parents… actually, now was as good a time as any. You doubt there would ever be a good time to convey something like this.

"I… actually yes." you say, clearing your throat and getting ready to drop the bomb on them.

"Is that Coriolanus? Did he propose to you?" you choke on the drink you were drinking and look at your mother with a dose of disbelief and disgust.

Apparently, the ridiculous amount of roses, chocolates, dresses, and even fucking jewellery that Coriolanus was sending you didn't go unnoticed by your mother. After the first month, you thought he would take the hint, but since he tirelessly sent you gifts, you stopped returning them to him damaged (e.g., cut roses and burned clothes) and decided to give them to the servants and maids and simply ignore that poisoned snake.

"What?! No, of course not. Besides, I wouldn't say yes like... never." you shudder at the thought, at which your father laughs, joining in on the conversation between the two of you for the first time.

"Then what is it?"

Their expectant glances intimidate you for a moment, and for the first time, you wonder if the decision you've made is right. But there was no turning back. You won't let Coriolanus win so easily (or, rather, at all).

"I… well. I've submitted my candidature for president of Panem."

The silence in the room after your statement is... extremely disturbing. They both freeze; your father holds the fork halfway to his mouth, staring at you in amazement, and your mother looks like they've frozen her. For a moment, you wonder if you've given them a heart attack. But your concern for them quickly fades when their loud collective screams echo throughout the dining room.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

"So I guess I won't have your votes then?" you ask jokingly, going back to cutting your steak.

"Are you crazy? A female president?!" your mother asks indignantly, and you roll your eyes. Honestly, you were a little surprised at her shock. As if you would ever play her role as an obedient wife.

"You may not know it, mother, but more and more female politicians appear in the government. Right, dad?" you ask him, using your only-daughter charm on him, mentally thanking everyone above that this man never treats you with disrespect and hostility like other fathers would if their only child was a girl.

Maybe you kind of enjoyed being his precious diamond after all. Even if that made you desired by all of Capitol's young men, who were more than willing to take your hand in marriage and dowry.

"That doesn't mean you have to be one of them! Y/F/N, tell her something!" you look pleadingly at your father, and after his long silence, you already know that you are melting his heart to your will. All it took was a little, gentle pressure.

"What are your real chances of winning?" he asks with a sigh as your mother looks at him with disbelief.

"Y/F/N..."

"I think my only serious opponent is Coriolanus. People are fed up with these fearful politicians who have been arguing with each other for a long time. Me and Snow are a fresh take on Capitol affairs. We are young and ambitious. People may choose us out of curiosity alone. And among the female electorate, I think I have a much better chance than him... if you can convince mother to let me do this, of course. I won't do anything without your blessing and support." you reply, looking at him confidently. His face is unreadable, as are his eyes, and you silently hope that you have inherited his ability to hide your emotions.

"Y/F/N you can't think about that seriosuly. She can't do this!"

"If you want to be in power, wouldn't it be better for you to join forces? Run a joint campaign. You would become Prime Minister, and he would become President if being a First Lady didn't suit you."

"I am Y/L/N. I am taking everything or nothing." this one sentence makes his façade break down. He smiles and clears his throat, trying to hide his proud smirk behind his glass of wine.

"Very good. You know your bank account number. If you need more campaign funds, in a reasonable amount, of course, you know who to ask." you smile at this and get up from your chair, ignoring your mother's words of protest.

"Thank you, father." you say, kissing his cheek and leaving the dining room, leaving him to deal with your mother's anger. You had to call your staff. The game was about to start.

You enter the parliament building quite uncertainly. You are wearing a white suit made by Tigris. The black vest, which is intended to liven up the outfit, fits you a bit too tight, but you blame it on the fact that you've been stress-eating sweets lately. You will ask her to sew you appropriate clothes later.

For now, you wanted as few people as possible to know about your candidacy. You trusted Tigris, but there was no way in hell you could let Coriolanus find out about this beforehand. You will present him with a fait accompli.

Just like he did when he chose Lucy Gray.

You notice him first. He is wearing a blood-red suit and a snow-white shirt. You wonder if subconsciously it's his reminder of the deaths of the people who allowed him to be where he stands now, but you prefer to think that the bastard simply has no conscience.

You could easily escape from him, but you don't want to. Not any longer. He will be the one running away from you. So you walk straight up to him, the click of your high heels echoing off the marble floor of the Parliament building.

"Nice suit." you say to him. He lifts his head and turns to you as he hears your voice. You can't read the look in his cold, blue eyes, but you don't care about that now. You're only here to stick a pin in him before his performance. "You wore your father's clothes and now you wear Sejan's? Maybe you haven't really changed at all." you scoff at him, and he shakes his head with an equally mocking smile as yours.

"This is probably the latest collection from your favorite designer. Not that I remember." he says, putting his hands in his pockets and watching you carefully as he takes a step towards you.

"Impossible. My favourite designer is Tigris. And I heard that lately you're too much of a snobbish, self-assured asshole to wear what she made for you."

"Maybe it's because she's turning you against me, trying to convince you that I'm a monster?" he says this ironically as you both stare at each other.

You notice that the rose is missing from his jacket pocket. His hair is also messier, as if he's running a nervous hand through it—a habit that obviously hasn't died with your Coryo. You frown at this but shake it off to respond to his taunt.

"Maybe you are actually a monster, Coriolanus? Didn't that occur to you? How could anybody do the things you did so easily? Or maybe Dr. Gaul calls this an unconventional, out-of-the-box way of thinking?"

"At least she's not pretending to be someone she's not." he growls at you, furious, a grudge shining in his eyes, at which you seethe in anger. He, of all people, has no right to resent you.

"At least I can honestly say I'm not a murderer. And what about you?"

Before you can react, he takes a step towards you. One of his hands wraps around your throat like a snake. However, he remembers that you are in a public place and quickly moves his hand to your cheek and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His icy eyes are locked on yours as he tries to read any reaction from you. You give him nothing. And you're damn proud of it.

"If you didn't come to wish me luck in my first public appearance as a candidate for president, you should go. Before I give you a real reason to call me a monster, little diamond." he whispers quietly, the tone of his voice laced with threat, but you don't give a damn.

"Oh, snowy… I really wish you a lot of luck. You'll need it, my boy." you say, patting his chest dismissively. You walk away, making sure to bump his arm with yours as you move past him to go to the hall where the first recording for the presidential candidatures of Panem is to be held.

And you already know that it will be hard for you not to look at him, as a furious surprise will appear on his face when he sees that you will also be presenting your programme and announcing your candidature.

You've regretted your candidature many times over the past two weeks. Partly because you had to spend more and more time with the devil in a fancy suit. You didn't see this coming; you were too busy thinking about preventing him from winning. Now you had to attend balls with him and other candidates and various events that helped promote your campaigns, smile at cameras and photographers, and try to remain as polite and courteous to others as you needed.

Like now.

You were attending some important business event, and your uncomfortable high heels were digging into your skin, hurting you. But it was worth bleeding a little. You looked drop-dead gorgeous.

"Tomorrow you have an interview with the Capitol Times; the day after tomorrow we are promoting in the children's ward at the hospital; at the end of the week we both have to go to Fulvia Cardew's engagement party. And in the meantime, you have to go to at least three fittings of new clothes that Tigris made." Clemensia says, writing something down in her small notebook.

"Thanks, Clem. I don't know what I'd do without you." you say with a small smile as you sip your glass of champagne.

"You'd have to keep that stupid calendar and schedule yourself. If you want to help in some way, you can finally answer one of the many calls from Coriolanus. He torments both me and the servants in your house at night."

"And make my mother lose hope that someone is courting me? No thanks; this way, I have peace from her, and I don't have to talk to him longer than I should. Besides, I thought you liked it when I gave you the gifts he somehow managed to leave at my door."

"At some point, yes... but you will finally have to clean up the relationship between you two. Even if we win, Coriolanus will remain an important political player, and it would be good to have him on our side. Besides, it's obvious that he… oh shit. Gaul is coming." she says, terrified, and leaves you. You turn around just as the co-creator of The Hunger Games walks up to you.

“Miss Y/L/N. Congratulations. You surprised me.” you swallow the rest of the champagne and set the glass on the table behind you, preparing to face this crazy woman.

"I think half of the Capitol was in a similar condition. But I appreciate the gesture, Dr. Gaul." you say this with a polite smile as the woman looks you up and down. You're glad you're keeping yourself from trembling under her scrutinising, watchful gaze.

"Mr. Snow seemed to be particularly surprised. As soon as he returned to the lab, he came up with wonderful ideas for next year's Hunger Games." she boasts, and you smile fakely. It sickens you to think about what these two could have come up with for these poor children. But you don't show it. Instead, you chose to strike back.

"I heard that after Lucy Gray's disappearance, their... popularity dropped a bit. I hope things are going well with the sponsors? It would be such a shame if the project and ideas had to be... cancelled due to a lack of money."

"We're doing well. When Mr. Snow becomes president, I think the government will be more willing to fund them."

"IF Mr. Snow becomes president, Dr. Gaul." you correct her, slightly irritated. The woman smiles and nods her head mockingly.

"Of course... If." she says it with a wolfish, menacing smile.

You both stare at each other with hatred for a moment, both of you refusing to give up in your little battle. The atmosphere between you is tense.

You flinch when you feel a hand on your back. The delicate scent of roses begins to float in the air.

"Dr. Gaul. I am so happy to see you here. Y/N, you look amazing as always." Coriolanus says as he leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. You would wipe it in disgust if there weren't other people around you.

"Mr. Snow." Dr. Gaul greets him.

The mysterious smile never leaves her face as she watches the two of you. You remember what she just said. How Coriolanus was still so eagerly working with her on the Hunger Games. His hand on your back starts to burn you in an unpleasant way.

"Excuse me. I need to get some fresh air. It started to stink in here." you say, subtly implying that it's the scent of Coriolanus and his rose that bothers you as you walk away from them both.

You go to the roof of the penthouse, which is surprisingly empty, and take out a cigarette. You search for the lighter, thinking about what Gaul told you. Somehow you felt even more distant from Coriolanus... as if she emphatically confirmed what you already knew.

Your Coryo was completely gone. And there was nothing that could bring him back to you.

But why did you still care about him anyway?

"I didn't know you started smoking." you flinch when you hear his voice behind you.

You ignore him, trying to light the lighter, but to no avail. Apparently, today everything must have gone shitty for you. Seeing your struggles, he walks over to you. He takes a lighter from his pants pocket and holds it to your cigarette, lighting it.

"What the hell do you want?" you ask him madly, at which he raises his eyebrows, but he is not moving away from you.

"What? You won't even thank me? You know, I've helped you there. I could just leave you to talk with Gaul, but I walked in and took her attention from you." he says, stuffing the lighter and his hands into his pockets as he leans on the railing next to you, staring at the skyline of the Capitol below you.

"I didn't need a fucking hero. I could have left her at any time. Unlike you, I don't play vaseline, I don't humiliate myself, and I don't do anything I don't want to, just to please other people." you snort and blow a cloud of cigarette smoke at him. He coughs, looking at you offended, to which you just smirk.

"You know, I remember the time when you were doing everything in your power to please ME. In many, many ways, actually." he says, using his hand to wave away your clouds of cigarette smoke.

"Keep these memories close to you because they will never happen again. I'd rather be burned alive than ever sleep with you again." you say it with obvious disgust. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the furrow of anger forming between his eyebrows. "Don't frown. Or make-up artists will have a hard time covering your wrinkles."

"I have no idea why you are so aggressive and act madly when it comes to me. I didn't do anything to you." he responded firmly to your mocks, never taking those ice-blue irises off of you.

"That's the problem, Coriolanus! You think that you don't do anything wrong, when the truth is that you are taking actions that are terrible. I feel like puking just looking at you and thinking about how many children will suffer because of Dr. Gaul's and your crazy ideas." you burst out furiously at him. You are now standing opposite each other, both of you glaring at the other in a furious, defiant way.

"The Hunger Games are necessary."

"Bullshit." you interrupt him before he can make any arguments. You see him sigh, running a hand through his gelled hair.

You catch yourself subconsciously missing his curls and how you used to stroking them when he was lying with you on your couch and reading a set book for one of your classes…

"Have you ever been in the District? 10, 11, 12? No. You didn't. You have no idea what kind of people are leaving there. You live in the safety of the Capitol, and you have no idea how quickly these rats can start a civil war and rebellions. Did you forget what they did to us? How have we suffered? I lost my father, and my family went poor. I had to pretend that I was still a rich snob. Tgiris, my grandmother, and I starved more than once; they wanted to throw us out of the apartment. I had nothing but a meaningless name and family."

"You know, that was the time when you had everything. You had friends, family, and a girlfriend. My love and limitless devotion, respect, and admiration. Now what do you have left? Money? Power? Glory? Besides, people are not the same. They can be good, Coriolanus. The fact that you are too afraid to see or admit it is proof of how huge a coward you actually became." you say it disappointedly, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stomping on it.

"I am not..." he pauses as you look up at him, and your eyes meet. He thought that no one could silence him. But one look from you, full of resentment and sadness, makes him fall silent.

You make him feel weak. As if he was still that poor teenager who had to hide his family's terrible financial situation. Only now he's hiding the fact that your words are actually reaching him. That they actually hurt him.

He couldn't afford to have any weaknesses. He had to be strong, tough, and decisive. However, after one look at you, it was enough for him to begin to question everything he had learned under Dr. Gaul. To question everything he did after the fucking Hunger Games and Lucy Gray.

"Yes, you are. Everything you are doing and every bad decision you've made, you made out of fear. Fear of losing your life. Of losing your position. Of never coming back to the Capitol. You are a coward who desperately tries to play the brave man that matters in this world."

"You have no idea what it was like in the district! Or in the Hunger Games, when I had to get Sejanus out of there. You don't know what you would do in such a situation, so don't you dare stand there and judge me. Not when all I could think about in those days, what kept me away from absolute madness, was you." he says, desperately trying to present his actions to you as right, to make you understand his point of view and the reasons why he did all of these.

"Maybe not. Maybe I don't know what it's like. But I would never become the cause of the death of my best friend. You have his blood on your hands. I will never forgive you that." you notice him flinching at your words, but that's all you can see through the mask of indifference he suddenly decided to wear. But his eyes—his eyes and the emotions hidden in them—remind you so much of your Coryo.

"Do you think I have removed it from my memories? That his screams didn't haunt me in my dreams? That I simply forgot about him?"

"You are certainly on a good way to do it, Coriolanus." your soft whisper gives him goosebumps. You look at each other for a moment. When you realise he has nothing to say, you shake your head, laughing bitterly, mocking yourself for thinking for a moment that he really was more than just the cruel Gamemaker, and turn away.

You walk towards the exit, but suddenly you hear his quick footsteps behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist with one hand and holds your hands with the other, making sure you don't break away. He rests his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling your scent for a moment before whispering into your ear.

"Do you remember that place?" he asks, his nose stroking your cheek. "Our second date. Sejanus, let me take you to one of his parents' penthouses. They were supposed to be on vacation, but they came back earlier. We had to hide on the roof and wait since they would leave so we too could. We had a picnic here. I was holding you close to my chest, a little closer than I am doing now. It started to rain. I was furious because I wanted everything to be perfect for you, and as always, everything went terribly wrong. I wanted to look at the stars with you and run my hands through your hair while you fell asleep on my chest, cuddling up to me as if I were your teddy bear. I loved feeling the weight of you on me. In every circumstance. Anyway, we gathered everything and ran to your house. You let me into your room through the window. We took a hot shower together and..."

"And then happened the worst sex I've ever had." you interrupt him, trying to regain control of the situation. He only laughed at that, which made your heart skip a beat when, for the first time in so many months, you hear him laughing truly, not in a mocking, bitter, or fake way.

"The worst? Your moans and scratches on my back proved otherwise. Besides, considering it was the first time for both of us, I guess I did a good job. Your silky skin has haunted my dreams since that night. It never stopped. And judging by the way you are breathing right now, you also seem to think about that time fondly. We can do it again at my place tonight if you want. I am now in a much better position to truly make your nights unforgettable."

"I'd rather be bitten by one of Dr. Gaul's snakes, but thanks for the offer." you huff, getting out of his arms and pushing him away from you as you go to the exit of the Plinth's penthouse's roof.

"Don't tempt me. You know I can arrange it. Sucking the poison out of your delicate skin with my mouth is a really tempting alternative." he says, following you as you both return to the main hall.

"Disgusting pervert." you whisper over your shoulder so that only he can hear you in the crowd of elites and reporters who have gathered.

"Both of us, my darling. Both of us. But the point is..." he grabs your hand and helps you down the stairs as if he was a true gentleman. You would roll your eyes at this, but people have already noticed, you know, that you have hardened the mask of politeness on your face. "I remember everything. I am not losing my memory. I never will. Not about you. Not about us." he whispers, and you feel his blue eyes burning a hole into your temple with how intensely he stares at you.

"You must be mad to think that I will just go back to you. Besides, I don't have time for you. My voters are waiting for me."

He chuckles and gives you a mysterious, quizzical look that you can't read. But before you can analyse his stance, he pulls your hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on it. His full lips tease your skin, setting it alight with the reminder of all the times he's had the opportunity to do this.

He pulled away from you as quickly as he leaned into your hand. He smiles, giving you a view of his pearly teeth. How pleased the devil is...

"We shall see, my little petal." he whispers. Your old nickname he gave you one day is sounding as perfectly sweet as it used to, and you are not sure how much strength you have left in you to not let him melt your heart. Then he walks away from you, leaving you in the crowd of other people.

And you stand there, rooted to the floor, and all you can do is stare at the back of his head as you try to snap out of the feeling of his lips against your skin, trying not to dream of experiencing all of him again.

A week later, you were returning from another party. You managed to sneak out a little earlier than usual without anyone noticing. Relieved, you got into the empty elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. You leaned against the wall and sighed, rubbing your neck, where you wore a diamond necklace. Your momentary alone relief didn't last long.

As usual, you smelled him first. The faint hint of roses hit you as the man leaned against the wall of the elevator next to yours, giving you some space. You glanced at him casually. This time, he didn't have a rose on his vest. He was also much paler.

"The makeup artists chose the wrong powder for you." you say, not knowing why you even initiated a conversation with him.

"Was Thomas so tired that he couldn't stay with you until the end? Was he too scared to hold on to the precious diamond that had fallen into his hands like a grain to a blind hen until the end of the night?" he responds to your taunt. You frown at the hint of jealousy in his voice.

Coryo has always been possessive and unsure of your relationship and whether you might leave him one day for someone better. Therefore, any man's attention towards you caused... unpleasant feelings for him. He obviously still had this behaviour towards you. Even though you were no longer together.

"He has an exam. Anatomy or some other shit. But don't worry, he will definitely accompany me when the election results are announced."

"Seriously? Are you now going to show off with that little boy-toy?" he asks you furiously. You can feel how his cold blue eyes are piercing right through you.

"Livia Cardew?" you scoff as well, opening your eyes to glare at him with an equally disgusted look. "But you know what? Actually, I'm not surprised. The biggest whore in Capitol. After you, of course."

"You slept with that whore 374 times. Which makes you equally slutty, little petal." he says with a cheeky smirk. You huff, folding your arms as you look at him in disbelief.

"I can't believe you were pathetic enough to actually count this."

"You're lucky I've lost count of the number of orgasms you've had because of me."

"And you are disgusting." you shake your head, impatiently waiting for the elevator to go down to the ground floor so you can get far away from him. You try hard not to think about all the times you had… done this.

But he doesn't let you go that easily. He leans down and brushes your hair back to give him better access to your ear to whisper.

"And you crave me as much as I crave you, my darling."

"Do you think that just because you started donating to charity organisations, I will suddenly fall into your arms or into your bed? You think I don't know you're doing this as part of a campaign? To get more votes? Are you that stupid to think that I will fall for it and believe that you are trying to be a better man for me?" you ask him, angry and defensive, mocking him.

"I'm starting to doubt my ability to do anything you could approve of. But it's nice that you still care about me enough to be interested in what I do."

"You can give up your candidature for president if you want to see me happy." he laughs at your words, looking at you with a mischievous smirk.

"And make it so easy for you? No way, my darling. We both know that only the two of us have a real chance of winning. You should finally surrender and join me. We both know this is where we'll end up. I, with you by my side, just as it has always been."

"Not always. I remember very well the time when it was only you and your songbird." the elevator is on the second floor when he aggressively presses the stop button.

You try very hard to hide from him the fact that you feel insecure in this situation. In a small space, with him practically at your fingertips, you don't know if you can control yourself. So you try to remember all the disgusting crimes he committed.

"It was just a game. A show for the Capitol. You know I had to win. It didn't end the way I wanted, but you know perfectly well that I had to do it." he says, placing his hands gently on your shoulders as he tries his hardest to keep your eyes on him and you standing still in your place for the time he talks.

"I've already told you this. There is always another choice." you growl in his face, furious, refusing to give up.

"You wouldn't even talk to me if I still remained a nobody. You would have dumped me the moment it became known to all Panem that my family was poor and that Snow's name meant nothing. And marrying you would only be a distant dream of a madman."

"As if you had any chance now." you mock him with a laugh. You somehow push him away from you and press the start button. The elevator starts moving down again.

"I have your parents' blessing."

"And my disgust and resentment towards you."

There is silence between you for a moment. He stubbornly stares at your face, trying to read some emotion there, but you give him nothing but a blank stare at the door in front of you as you impatiently wait for it to open.

"What do you do when you win?" his question catches you off guard for a moment. You look at him in shock.

"What?"

"What do you do when you win? Bring an end to the Hunger Games? Try to get me killed? Why are you doing all of this?" he asks, standing directly in front of you. Your chests rub against each other with every breath you take. You lift your head slightly, staring at him defiantly.

"So YOU won't win." you finally reply, shuddering as he takes your hand gently in his and starts tracing patterns on it with his thumb.

He leans towards you so that you could rest your chin on his shoulder if you wanted to. You shiver, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours and feeling his lips gently brush against your earlobe.

"Snow lands on top." he whispers, hot air caressing your ear as he bites the lobe of it.

"Y/L/N takes everything." you whine, digging your nails into his neck. He gasps in surprise, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he presses you against the elevator wall with his body.

"Or nothing. But don't worry. When I win, there will be no one who can stop me from marring you."

"IF you win, then I will be gone. You will never find me. Just like your little songbird." you can see the fury in his eyes at the mere mention of her. His grip on you tightens.

"She is not mine. You are. Accept it and end this. You don't want to be president. I do. There is nothing more powerful than you and me, so and this damn kind of punishment for me and accept your place as my First Lady."

"Maybe I don't want this… but it will be so funny to watch you fail," you say, tilting your head and watching him closely as his nostrils flare with rage at your stubbornness. "Besides, I'd rather shoot myself in the head than be your wife."

"There was a time when you wanted it. When it was all we dreamed of. You and me. Together. Against the whole world."

"That's how it was. When I thought you were worth something more, when you were my top priority. I thought you wanted something more than money and power, but it looks like I never meant for you that much to be as important to you as you were to me. Or maybe I didn't know you at all." you say, no longer hiding the hurt in your voice, and you press the button on the damn elevator to get away from him.

You promised yourself that you wouldn't show him how much he hurt you or how much you missed him. But apparently he wanted to make sure he destroyed not only your Coryo but you as well.

You look away from him, ignoring the fact that he suddenly went quiet next to you. All he did was look at you. And you avoided his gaze, afraid that you would melt in front of him and that you would show him your heart again.

The elevator opens, and you sigh in relief. However, it doesn't last long. You tense up when you see reporters downstairs, waiting at the exit.

"Smile for the picture." you say, and drag him with you towards the exit.

You quickly let go of his arm as he obediently follows you, and you try to ignore the fact that his fingers lightly brush against your hand as if he wants to grab it. You move away from him gently and quickly walk past the reporters and paparazzi.

You quickly get into your car and nod to the driver to go. You lean back in your seat and sigh deeply, placing a hand over your racing heart. You can't help but glance at Coriolanus.

Thanks to your car's tinted windows, he can't see you. Still, he watches your car with his eyes, and for a small moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't all rotten to the core. Maybe, in his twisted way, he still cares about you.

The first round of elections was behind you. As you expected, Coriolanus and you achieved the greatest results. The game for the presidency of Panem has begun to be fought solely between you two.

And you were about to play the first dirty card against him. Clemensia nods at you as you head towards the podium and the microphone.

"Good evening, everyone. Thank you very much for all your votes and the trust you have placed in both me and my, well, rival after all." people chuckle gently, you find Coriolanus' curious gaze in the crowd. "I am convinced that, no matter who of us wins the upcoming elections, Panem will be in good hands anyway." You see a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he comes closer, moving freely through the crowd. The look in his blue eyes never leaves you for a minute. You would tremble, intimidated by his attention, if you didn't know, what would happen in a few minutes. "Without further ado, I would like to introduce someone who will certainly make this evening more pleasant. You have no idea how much I had to beg our star of the evening to agree to perform today. Ladies and gentlemen. At my ask and to your delight. The one and only Lucy Gray Baird!"

As you leave the stage, you glance at Coriolanus, seeing him staring at the woman with the guitar appearing on stage in shock and mild horror.

You stand further away from the crowd, on the other side of the room—as far away from Coriolanus as you can be—and watch him carefully, leaning against the wall.

You have to admit that Lucy Gray is stunningly beautiful. And the legend she has created around herself, her voice, and her skills only make her more perfect in the eyes of others.

You're not surprised that she charmed Coriolanus months ago and now. In fact, you expect Snow, too overcome with emotion upon meeting her again, to forget his façade and pursue her. With a bit of luck, maybe your people will be able to take compromising photos of him.

But you are surprised when, after watching her for a while, he shifts his gaze to the crowd of people, looking for something. You freeze when his eyes meet yours. You raise an eyebrow, not sure why, instead of staring at the girl, he stubbornly searches for your gaze. Or rather, you don't want to admit that you know the reason why, because that's exactly why you quickly leave the great hall of parliament and run away from the man who is now walking towards you.

And much to your misfortune, Coriolanus Snow learns from his mistakes. That's why you suddenly bump into someone a few metres from the exit at the end of the corridor leading to the elevator. You collide against a wall of toned muscles. His arms quickly wrap around you, keeping you from falling.

"Leaving so soon?" his whisper sent unwanted shivers down your spine, as did how close your face was to his.

"Get your hands off me." you snap at him and get out of his grip. You stare at the elevator, contemplating how to get past him and get in, but he sees your intentions in your eyes and blocks any escape route with his body.

"What game are you playing?" he asks, staring at you. You lift your head, returning his defiant glare. "I don't even care how the hell you found her. Why is she here? What do you need her for?"

"Shouldn't you try to catch your little songbird before she flies away again?" you mock, ignoring all of the questions he asked you.

"I am." he says, staring firmly at you, making you more confused by his actions than before. He should have been after Lucy Gray… why the hell was he keeping you pinned to the wall, blocking your only escape route with his body?

"What?"

"I am not letting you run away. We are solving this here and now." he says this, looking around the hall. You take advantage of his moment of inattention and try to free yourself from his strong grip, but he doesn't move even an inch in your struggle. Fuck his peacekeeper training.

"We have nothing to solve, get it into your stupid head!" you shout at him in frustration, unable to get out of his arms.

"You know what your main problem is? You don't allow yourself the idea that you might be wrong or that you don't know everything about me. I may be a monster, but I've never lied to you. About anything. Lucy Gray and I had nothing when you were with me. Whoever gave you these stupid rumours was lying. Ask her. She'll tell you that the only thing I did was kiss her. When I was drunk in District 12, exactly the day after I got there. And do you know why? Because I was convinced I had fucked up my life and I would never see your damn face again. And fuck, even kissing her couldn't get you out of my mind. All I thought was you. All I think about is you. I can admit it out loud. How about you?"

"I despise you." you growl angrily, struggling in his arms.

"Yes? Then why did you frame Livia for engagement to Festus? You think I don't know it's because of you that they were caught fucking in the garden together?"

"I wanted to discredit you. Show that your girlfriend is sleeping with anyone on the side. Besides, you made Thomas fail at university, and he had to retake his exams today, which is why he couldn't show up. I had to take revenge."

"No. You were jealous of me. You wanted to get rid of her and you did. Why are you playing the gardener dog? Why don't you just admit that you want me?" you roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest to hold on to your internal irritation and fury at him. But it was a very demanding task, considering how his mesmerising icy-blue eyes were now watching you very carefully.

"I don't want you." you say, trying to sound firm but also a little indifferent, enough for him to believe you. But you can see by the way his eyebrow raises that you've screwed up something.

"Yes? Then kiss me." his sudden command leaves you extremely stunned. You almost lose the fight with yourself to keep your jaw from opening from shock.

"What?"

"If you despise me, if you don't care about me, then you will have no problem with kissing me and walking away like nothing had happened." he explains, moving closer to you, your noses brushing against each other, you feel his breath brush against your lips, and the warmth of his mouth is so close that it makes you feel as if you could actually touch him.

"Let me go. I'm not going to make a fool of myself for your own amusement. Those days are gone forever; we are not a couple, and we will never be together again. Get over it!"

"Then kiss me. C'mon. Prove your point. Kiss me as if you hate me. As if you despise every little part of me just as much as you claim. Prove that you have absolutely no feelings towards me despite hatred and grudges."

And God, you want it. You want it so much that it hurts you not to be able to press your lips to his right here and now.

You know that the moment your lips meet his, all your cold demeanour towards him will melt away like snow in spring. You know that you will easily return to his arms, giving yourself to him and proving nothing in your favor. And you've come so far—too far—to let him see past your facade now, to let him make you want him even more than you already do.

You shiver as he leans in so that his nose brushes yours as he gently cups your cheeks in his hands. He doesn't make the first move. Of course not. This cunning snake tempts you to give in to your greatest, darkest desires, which you feel ashamed of for having managed to survive in the recesses of your heart.

"End this torment. For both of us sake."

Just a gentle touch, you think, hearing his whisper and feeling his body softly press against yours, complementing you perfectly as always. One taste of his lips. Just one...

Your heart beats fast, and your breaths are mingling in the small space still left between you two. With a trembling hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fucking eyes are all you can look at, the unspoken request shining so brightly in them that you can't mistake his desire for anything else. And you give in, tilting your head to place your lips so close to him...

A loud bang makes you both pull away from each other. A drunk senator staggers towards the elevator, nodding at the two of you. He mumbles something under his breath, and after a quick glance towards Coriolanus and a nod of his head, you decide that he will walk him away and make sure he doesn't tell (or remember) how outrageously close the two of you were just moments ago.

You walk back to the party, trying to calm down enough to let the blush fade from your cheeks.

You make sure that Clem sends Lucy to her hiding place after her performance, and you continue to politely smile and pose for photos, promoting your allegiance.

And the next day, when you are reading the morning newspaper, you notice in one of the photos that this bastard put a rose behind your ear.

It was raining heavily.

It was late at night as you were preparing for your speech the next day. You walked around your room with a piece of paper in your hand, gesturing and practicing proper intonation and posture.

“Miss Y/L/N?” you stop when you hear the voice of one of your maids. "We have… an unusual situation."

"What? Did something happen?" you ask, confused at her uncertain tone of voice.

"It depends on how you interpret the situation, miss." you raise an eyebrow at her questioningly. She points to the window. You frown in surprise, but walk over to the window anyway.

"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" you whisper, seeing Coriolanus standing in your garden. He was completely soaked. His hair and coat were soaked with water, clinging to him as he stared at your window, standing still as the rain hit him.

"David says he's been there for several hours. He tried to talk to him and get him to leave, but Mr. Snow… just stands there."

Your first instinct would be to close the curtains and pretend he wasn't there, but you didn't want to think about the scandal that would start if anyone found out that your rival was standing outside your window in the full rain like some lovesick puppy. It was obvious he had to be here for a reason. It was probably some dirty play on his part. Something that was intended to negatively impact your candidature.

But then you looked at him. Even when you showed up, his gaze was... disturbingly empty. He couldn't fake it that well. It was not like he could completely hide his reaction to seeing you.

"Does anyone else know about this?" she shakes her head, and you sigh. You have no idea why he's standing outside your window in the heavy rain. You're just thanking fate for him choosing the day your parents left the Capitol to behave so strangely. You just hoped no meddlesome paparazzi saw him. "All right. Make sure it stays that way." you ask her and walk out of your room.

Walking downstairs to get to your coat and umbrella, you wonder why the hell he's standing outside in front of your mansion, staring at your window, risking getting sick with all the rain pouring down on him furiously.

It has happened before that he was standing under your window. Before this whole Hunger Games thing started, Dr. Gaul and Lucy Gray he would often sneak up to you through your window to talk about what was bothering him.

But that was a long time ago. And now you had no idea what he was doing out there and in all this rain.

You wrap your coat around yourself and take an umbrella as you go outside. The rain somehow seeps through your shields, hitting you unpleasantly. Water droplets start to soak into your clothes. You wonder how he stayed there for so many hours.

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?! Is this another one of your sick tricks against me?!" you shout, walking towards him. But he doesn't answer. His eyes are locked on you as he stands there, motionless. You notice that his eyes are bloodshot from crying, and his hands are shaking slightly, as well as all of his body. You don't know if it's from the cold or from crying. "Coriolanus?" you ask, starting to seriously worry about him.

He trembles even more, not looking at you. He fixes his gaze on your shoes. What worries you is that he is completely oblivious to the rain pouring down on him. As if he didn't feel anything at all anymore.

“Alright, come on.” you say, pulling him by the arm towards your mansion. You hide him a bit under the umbrella, but it doesn't change the fact that he's soaked like a dog. Maybe even worse.

His silence, the lack of any emotion on his face, worries you. You haven't seen him like this before. So… empty.

You enter the house through the back entrance. You put the umbrella down and turn towards him. Seeing that he's still not reacting to any stimuli and acting like he's on some kind of autopilot, you walk up to him and start unbuttoning his coat.

He doesn't comment on your behavior. Neither do you say anything. You just want to get him out of all those wet clothes so he won't get seriously sick... You have no idea why you worry or why you care. Maybe you are on some kind of autopilot too.

As you lead him to your room, you are involuntarily reminded of all the times he snuck there with you. When you were still the closest people to each other in this world. When you came to each other for comfort. When you were each other's only shelter.

"I should still have some of your old clothes here. You should go change and take a warm bath. There's no way you wouldn't get sick after this." you say, walking over to your clothes chest and looking for some of his old shirts and pants.

"Grandma'am is dead." he says it in an empty, emotionless tone of voice. You freeze in shock and slowly turn to face him. He still stands where you left him, his gaze blankly fixed on the space next to you.

You don't say anything. You don't know what to tell him anyway. You just stare at him, waiting for him to say something more. It bothers you how he just… doesn't do anything. Acting as if all that was left of him was an outer shell, a facade that barely held together.

You walk up to him and take his cold hand hesitantly into yours. You stare at them for a moment and look up, meeting his icy, bloodshot eyes.

"I... I am so sorry, Coriolanus." his bitter laugh at your words might be a good sign after his disturbing behaviour earlier, but somehow it worries you even more than his silent attitude and blank stare.

''You will never forgive me, will you? You will always see me only as a monster? As a murder and nothing more?" he asks, hearing that you still call him by his name, even at a time like this. The version he hated, instead of the sweet nickname he hadn't heard in a long time. Which even Tigris stopped using.

"Thta's not..." you start, concerned at the calm tone in which he says it. As if the truth of what was happening between you was starting to dawn on him.

"This is exactly what I am to you! A heartless monster! But you know what?! I AM NOT! And you... you are a hypocrite." he starts getting angry and pushes your hands away from him as he paces around your room.

"Me?!" you scream at him, disbelieving. You step in front of him, blocking his path and forcing him to face you.

"YES! You! You may not be a murderer, but you do something much worse. Your indifference, your hatred, and your aversion towards me—do you think it doesn't do anything to me? You've been killing me and hurting me day after day since I left the fucking Capitol and was sentenced to exile. And since I came back, your face, your voice, and your memories haunt me more than ever before. Missing you is killing me. Watching you from afar is killing me. Not being able to hold you in my arms is killing me. You said you could confidently say you're not a murderer. I do not agree. You kill me every day, and each time in a more cruel way. But all I can do is follow you like some faithful puppy, waiting for you to change your mind and give me a chance to show you that I'm not lost, that I'm not a monster, and that I didn't WANT any of this to happen! I spend every sleepless night, when I can't pass out in bed due to exhaustion and lack of sleep, thinking about you! And even now... when my life is falling apart around me, all I can do is... come to you. Just like I've always done."

He's shaking with emotion, and you think you've never seen him so moved or so shaken before. You wonder if he might have gotten drunk, but those thoughts quickly leave you when he suddenly leans down and wraps you in his arms. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he continues to shiver. His wet clothes start to soak yours, but all you feel is his breath on the skin of your neck.

"I miss you so much, petal…" he whispers, and you stroke his wet hair, unable to tell if it's his tears soaking the collar of your shirt or his wet clothes or skin from rain. In fact, it doesn't really matter to you at all right now.

"Why did you come here? Of all places…"

"And where else could I go?" he interrupts you, his eyes looking at you so… pleadingly. As if there really was no other place on earth he could go in such a situation, where he could wallow in his grief and despair.

"I don't know… to Livia or…" he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are terribly cool against yours, but it only enhances how amazing you feel as he caresses your lips tenderly with his.

He slowly steals the warmth from you, which you're strangely happy about while he's deepening the kiss. You press yourself against him, slowly warming him up, his wet clothes uncomfortably transferring their wetness to yours, which you ignore in favour of kissing him. Just like the drops of cold water dripping from his hair onto your forehead, which doesn't sober you up and doesn't make you move away from him. If anything, you place your hand around his neck and pull him closer.

Eventually, though, you both have to pull away, gasping for air. You both take shaky breaths, his forehead resting against yours, as your senses slowly begin to come back to you. But you're secretly glad that his hands don't leave you as he uses the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek, your lips, your cheekbone, anywhere he has a chance to touch you, as long as he doesn't take his hand away from your face.

"Only you saw me in my fragile form. Only you saw my shattered heart and the shell of myself. I... only allow myself to be vulnerable with you." he whispers with his eyes closed, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, trying his best to hold on to you as if you were his only anchor.

"Being sad, mad, or vulnerable doesn't mean being weak. Don't be ashamed of having emotions. I... all I ever wanted... was for you to... to be something more than all of these people in the Capitol. To be someone more than what Dr. Gaul tried to mould you into. You are a good man, Coryo. Please show me that you can still be that man. That my friend and lover is still there."

You don't talk to each other anymore after that. You don't know whether he has heard your request or is even considering granting it. All you know is that you lost that night. That the rational part of you had gone to fuck itself, seeing him so vulnerable and hurt, just as you were.

So, when he tries to break away from you and walk away, you grab his wrist tightly, stopping him.

"Stay. Don't go." you whisper. You don't know if it's a request or an order. He doesn't think twice about it either, turning back to you after a moment and pulling you into his chest as he holds you tightly in his arms and buries his face in your hair.

And he stays. You manage to get him to take a hot shower and some medicine in case he catches a cold.

This night, you fell asleep in each other's arms. Every now and then you stop stroking his hair, his back, and drawing patterns on his chest to use the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the tears that sometimes fall from his gorgeous blue eyes.

And in the morning, when all that remains from him is a scent of him, of his cologne, and a dent on the pillow, you can't help but feel disappointed and silently hope that maybe your Coryo is still alive.

You haven't had a chance to be alone with him since then. You both are too busy running your campaign and the ongoing rivalry between you two.

However, you notice that he has stopped sending gifts, late-night phone calls, or other ways of getting your attention. Whatever relationship you had was purely political. You didn't know whether to be happy or cry.

Tigris stopped talking about him. You don't know if it's a good change, but she doesn't mention her cousin anymore. She was quieter after her grandmother died. The black clung to her wardrobe and skin, highlighting her paler than usual complexion.

It was the evening they were supposed to announce the election results.

You took the elevator to the top floor of the Snow apartment, picking up Tigris and Clem on the way and heading to your house to either celebrate your success or failure.

You sigh tiredly, leaning against the elevator behind you. You close your eyes and listen as it moves up to the next floor.

You open your eyes when you hear a soft, buzzing sound. Things have changed a bit since you were last here. The interior was, of course, renovated and more elegant, but somehow... more emptier.

You try to shake off the feeling as you go further.

"Tigris?! I'm here!" you shout as you enter the living room.

You look around curiously, waiting for the blonde. You walk over to the bookshelf, looking through its contents. You choose one of the books and sit on the couch, but before you open it, you notice a framed photo on the coffee table.

You take the frame in your hands and look at an old photo of you and Coryo at the end of one year at the Academy. You cup your hand around his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you press a kiss on his cheek.

You smile as you remember the circumstances of taking this photo.

Sejanus found an old camera among his father's belongings. He insisted on taking photos to celebrate the end of a difficult year of study for all of you. You didn't know that Sejan developed the photos and gave them to Coriolanus.

And you certainly didn't expect him to keep them.

“I'm afraid Tigris is not here.” you place the photo on the coffee table and slowly turn towards Coriolanus. His hair is not combed with gel; it is slightly messy, and he has those adorable, damn curls on his head again. "She left a few minutes ago. You must have passed each other."

"Oh. She probably went to Clem's." you say, standing there slightly awkwardly and looking at him. He's wearing a black shirt and pants. Slightly wrinkled for your taste and definitely too wrinkled for his. "Are you alone?" you ask, unable to stop yourself.

"I am." he says, putting his hands in his pockets, walking around the couch so that he's now standing next to you, and picking up the book you were planning to read before Tigris came downstairs. "I guess your Thomas is waiting for you at your home."

"We... kind of broke up. Well, we weren't together, but… our paths diverged." you admit, taking the opportunity to have his back turned to you as he walked over to put the book back on the shelf. You can see his shoulders tense slightly. You've never wanted to run your hands down his muscular back more.

"What a pity. Right when I remembered his name…" he murmured. You take a few steps towards him, the click of your high heels echoing throughout the empty apartment.

"You always knew it, you were just too offended and angry to use it." he chuckles at your words and turns to face you, leaning his back gently against the bookshelf.

"Maybe." he hums, nodding his head, his eyes studying you intently.

"Maybe." you repeat after him, warmth rising in your chest as you see a stray strand of his hair fall onto his forehead.

"You should go back. I believe they will announce the results soon." he moves past you to grab the photo from the coffee table and places it on the chest of drawers next to the chair next to the bookcase. In the meantime, he turned on the TV, and he was right—they were going to report the results soon.

"What will you do if… you don't win?" you ask him, and he freezes for a moment. He sets things on the shelf, trying to arrange everything perfectly as he ponders his answer. You are getting a little nervous since you can't see his eyes or facial expression.

"I'll think of something for myself. Don't be happy. You won't be able to dance over my grave for a long time." you snort, shaking your head in amusement at his answer.

"I believe that in this case, it will be you who will be dancing at my funeral. And quite quickly."

"Stop it. You know damn well that I would never hurt you." he snaps at your answer as he turns to face you. You have been taken aback by his sudden reaction, but your defense system quickly kicked in.

"Sejanus..."

"I regret it every fucking day. Every day I wake up in the morning and don't see you on the other side of my bed. Every day I spend time surrounded by people I can't trust. Every day when I see Tigris' betrayed look and your disappointed, hurt gaze, it haunts my dreams as much as his screams. And maybe I'm a monster because I really don't care if he lives or dies, but I REGRET IT. Honestly. By you. Because of you. Because I lost you. I... I had lost you." he whispers the last sentence, as if it's only now dawning on him what really happened. It breaks your heart to see him like this, especially after what happened a few weeks ago.

"Coriolanus..." you say this and reach out to grab his arm, but this time he's the one pulling away from you. And the treatment you've gotten from him, just the same as you've once treated him, is tasting bitter.

"Just leave." he says, his eyes averting from you as he stares at the window overlooking the Capitol.

You walk up to him and place your hand on his shoulder. He turns his gaze away from the city in front of him and looks at you questioningly, not understanding what you are doing right now.

'Coriolanus... I..."

"And the president of Panem becomes… Y/N Y/L/N! Congratulations, Madam President!" the hosts' shouts and fanfare echo from the television, interrupting you. It takes you a while to realise what happened. Your hand falls from his shoulder as you stare dazedly at the TV behind him. You won. You became president.

Realisation hits you. You have no idea what will happen next. And... you're afraid. But not that you can't handle it. Not that you'll have a lot of new responsibilities, or even how many people you'll have to deal with from now on. NO. You are afraid that HE will never be close to you again. And the last few weeks... the last few weeks, maybe even months—had shown you that you couldn't live without him next to you anymore.

You needed Coriolanus Snow… as much as he needed you.

"Congratulations." his words snap you out of your shock and numbness. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to take it and shake it. But you can only stand there, staring at him as you try to sort out your feelings. "You won't even shake my hand? Am I not worth even that, Madam President?"

You shake your head.

You hear him snort, laughing bitterly at your action, believing this is another example of your stubborn behaviour towards him. He drops his hand, obviously hurt, and is about to respond when you suddenly take a step towards him, cup his cheeks in your hands, and pull him in for a kiss.

He is surprised. Probably the same as you, but he gets over it rather quickly as he automatically responds to your kiss, caressing your lips with his as fervently as ever.

At some point, you end up on his couch, your hands moving from his neck to under his shirt. Your touch breaks him out of the trance you put him in. He takes your hands in his and moves them away from his body.

"I don't want your pity." he huffs, pulling away from you as he stands in front of the couch. You pull him towards you by his shirt so that he's straddling you, and you kiss him again, effectively silencing him as your hands land on the buttons of his shirt.

"You've never had it." you mumble between kisses, trailing your fingers over the bare skin and muscles of his back, and he moans softly into your neck, leaving a few hickeys there along his way to the buttoms of your own blouse. "It was always either my love or grudge."

"And now?" he asks, moving away from you again. His blue eyes stare intently into yours, and you know your answer depends on how this evening goes. And you missed the comforting feeling of his skin against yours too much to worry about his morality, of which you were apparently the sole soul that wanted and was able to take care of.

"Both of them." you reply, licking your lips. Maybe he was right from the beginning? Maybe you were destined to end up together? Maybe you were really the only thing that could keep him on the right path? But were you willing to devote your life to keeping him in check?

"I can work with that." you moan as he kisses you while lifting you off the couch. Your blouse falls somewhere on the floor as he carries you along the familiar path to his bedroom.

His lips caress yours gently like never before. His hands are practically everywhere, gently stroking every bit of your exposed skin. He pins you against his bedroom door and sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey. You moan again, causing the same reaction from him.

"Please, don't ever leave me again." he whispers into your mouth before trying to devour you again.

"Then don't give me a reason to do it." you whisper back, combing his hair as he pulls away from you enough to open the door. He kisses you all the way to his bed, stroking your waist gently.

He lays you down on the bed, his mouth moving to your neck, licking and sucking, leaving a few marks there as his hands moved down to the button of your pants.

"Wait. Wait." he listens to you immediately. He freezes, lifting his head to look at you with concern and a worried expression on his face. "You're not mad that I won?" he gives you such a beautiful smile and laugh that, for a moment, all you can do is watch him.

He was so ethereal... breathtaking in every sense of this word. You have no idea how you managed to stay away from him for that long... even knowing what he did.

"I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I'll get over the fact that you won't be my First Lady."

"Well... you can be my First Lord... or something like that..." he laughs at that and leans in to kiss you. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him closer to you. You moan into his mouth as his bare skin touches yours.

You whine in protest as he pulls away from you. He looks deep into your eyes and caresses your cheek tenderly with his hand.

"You sure?" you smile slightly and nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls you closer to him again. "We shall create a dynasty, my beautiful little petal." he promises you, placing soft kisses on your collarbones. You run your hands through his blond locks, pulling his head and lips to yours. "My most precious diamond." he plants another kiss, this time on the corners of your mouth, undoing your bra. "Mine."

"Coryo..." you moan, and he responds in kind, happy to finally hear his nickname falling lovingly from your lips like it used to.

You don't care what happens next. What will happen the next day? What will happen when you take over as president? Will he try to gain more influence than you? Will he continue working for Gaul? Or maybe you will unite your forces and create a presidential couple that Panem has never seen before. You do not know. All he cares about is his touch, his mouth, and his body against you.

And in the morning, when you wake up wrapped in his arms as he places kisses on your temple and tenderly, lazily draws patterns on your back with his fingers, you realise how good it was to be back where you belonged.

You realise how good it felt to wake up in your Coryo's arms again. Even if neither of you were the same person you once were. And you will certainly have more than one fight, dramatic breakup or silent fight for influence and power.

But after all, love was stronger than any grudge you could feel towards your Coryo... or at least as long as he still was him.

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janitorhutcherson · 17 days

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Groceries, Taxes, & Laundry (MSchmidt Fluff)

hey guys, it's me. i'm finally back. did y'all miss me? the writing of this is a lil diff, sooooo please enjoy and lmk what you think!

content: pure fluff yall.

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Grocery shopping with Mike Schmidt is… special, to say the least. He absolutely despises it. The dreaded time comes around at the end of every week, your vegetables in the fridge starting to wilt, the meat from the previous trip used up, and all of your snacks have been devoured from late night munchie runs to the pantry (xoxo i love gardening!!!). He knows it has to happen. He knows you’ll wake him up early on Sunday morning like always, because apparently it’s “better to get it out of the way,” which he thinks is, well, to put it lightly, utter bullcrap.

You’ll drag him and Abby out to your local grocery store, her drowsy and jittery all at the same time with the promise of pancakes from a local diner after. Once you arrive, you’ll pull out all of the far-too-expensive reusable bags out of the trunk of Mike’s dingy car, ready to fill them with the necessities. Why get those for 3 bucks when you can get the plastic ones for free? He’ll never understand your logic, something about saving the environment, but it’s okay, he loves you enough not to complain, at least out loud.

The fluorescent lights of the room filled with half asleep employees hits Mike’s eyes like he’s looking directly into the sun. He lets out a small grumbled sigh as he takes in the scent of sterile cleaning supplies and produce mixed in one, with the strange almost play doh like smell of the bakery. Your eyes cut over to him, eyebrows raised, Abby’s hand in yours as she rubs her droopy eyes. Mike can’t help but to crack a small smirk, his lips pursed together. “What?” he’ll question innocently, letting out a small snicker as you go deeper into the dreary establishment.

At the produce aisle, Mike shivers a little as the water from the misting sprinkler on the shelves hits his bare skin. He should’ve worn his jacket today, he usually does, and he’s regretting the one time he hasn’t. Your eyes are glancing over carrots, broccoli, cucumbers, and squash, all that are somehow both too ripe and too.. What's the word... unripe? Sure, he’ll go with that. His hand reaches out to grip yours in a gentle grasp as Abby points to a particularly fluffy bushel of broccoli. “I want that one! It looks like pretty trees,” she giggles out, finally starting to wake with the day. You let out a giggle of your own and Mike smiles because of how pretty your laugh is.

Next, you’re in the snack aisle, filling the cart with doritos, barbeque chips, pringles, salt and vinegar chips (mike gags when you eat them too close to him), peanut butter filled pretzels, whatever can go in Abby’s lunch box and whatever is tastiest. Mike insists on buying the cheap queso, his nose scrunching up at the price of the name brand one. He knows it doesn’t taste any different.

Now you’re looking at meats, finding chicken breasts and filets, steaks, pork, whatever was on your list from meal prepping. Yes, meal prepping, Mike did that now. Apparently stable people with stable lives who had stable relationships did that. He’d grown fond of sitting over a recipe book with you on Saturday nights, really, shoulder to shoulder, pressed up on the couch well after Abby had gone to bed. Something about it felt safe, a kind of domestic feeling he wasn’t used to.

You’re basically done now, and he couldn’t be more relieved as you make your way towards the dairy section. He grabs a few things, string cheese, yogurt, cream cheese, cheese slices for sandwiches for work. Oh, did he mention he works in construction now? It’s stable, makes good money, and he’s home on time to see you, to be a husband-not-yet-husband (he plans to propose soon, but that’s another story), a brother-more-like-a-father, a person with a regular schedule. He looks over at you, watching as you and Abby skim over the different selections of chocolate and strawberry milk, finally settling on a carton of strawberry. He once again scrunches his nose, smiling all at once. “Nasty,” he mumbles out. Abby playfully hits his arm and you lean in for a kiss.

Finally, thank god, you push the cart towards the bakery section, grabbing bread and a sweet treat or two for the week. Cookies, a birthday cake for no particular reason, cheese danishes, whatever his little family was feeling for the week, that’s what it’d be. This week, it was a huge box of chocolate chip cookies and some kind of cherry pastry he’d never had before. You three finally head to checkout, where everything is stuck in those stupid reusable bags and the price of everything you got feels obscenely huge for what’s in your cart, but he pays it anyway. Walking to the car, in the trunk the groceries go as you all climb in one by one, ready to head for pancakes.

As he reverses the car out of his good (only because it was so goddamn early) parking spot, he can’t help but sigh, this time with contentment as Abby rambles on about a new imaginary (hopefully) friend, your own grin wide as you ask questions, making sure she feels heard. “I love you guys, love doing things with you guys,” Mike mumbles out, reaching his hand over to your thigh as he glances back at Abby too. And it was true, he’d do anything with you two. Hell, if all his life consisted of grocery shopping, taxes, and laundry? Yeah, he’d be ok with that too.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fic #mike schmidt blurb #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson fanfic

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tizniz · 3 months

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Ooh you're taking prompts 👀👀 if this doesn't spark joy, you can ignore it! No worries❤️❤️❤️❤️

But if it does...

Prompt: "Damn, you look good with my name on you." Or something similar to it. Of course you can change it to whatever you want or fits better

Hi Jules!

I absolutely am taking prompts. I only have the one WIP currently *glances at my big bang fic tucked away in the corner and then ignores it* so I'm happy to take prompts or ideas :)

Yours was so fun. Hope you like it!

Buck glances at Hen and Chimney as the two paramedics giggle to themselves, both attempting and failing to straighten their expressions when they notice Buck watching. “What?” “Nothing.” Chimney replies, a shit eating grin on his face that does nothing to ease Buck’s confusion. “All good here, Buckaroo.” Hen adds, her voice oozing faux innocence. He narrows his eyes, ready to make a retort but then Bobby is calling him over, and well, they are at a call so he can’t exactly ignore his Captain. At least it’s a small call, with no real big issue occurring. A teenage boy had been trying to impress his crush by grilling some steaks, but apparently he had impressed his crush too much, because the two of them got caught up in making out and didn’t realize that their steaks had caught on fire. A peeping neighbour certainly had though and called 9-1-1. The two flustered teens had already put the fire out by the time the 118 had shown up, but Bobby was insisting they do checks and had been lecturing the two boys when Buck had left him and Eddie to go report to Hen and Chimney that there were no injuries.

“What’s up, Cap?” Buck says as he joins Bobby. “Grab Eddie and tell him we’re good to go.” Bobby tells him, half turned away from the neighbour that had made the call. Her beady little eyes moved up and down Buck’s length, making him shift uncomfortably. She gave him some not nice vibes. “I’m just finishing her with Mrs. Norbit.” “I hope you told those boys to be smarter.” The lady, Mrs. Norbit sniffs, crossing her arms tightly across her powder pink cardigan. “And that they shouldn’t be doing such sinful things outside.” Bobby sighs, turning his focus back to the older lady, “Ma’am, they were both well within their rights to be doing what they were doing.” Before Buck can hear anything more from the clearly homophobic neighbour, he spins on his heel and hurries up the lawn towards the gate. But before he can step through he hears Bobby call his name once more. Buck pauses, looking over his shoulder. His Captain is looking at him with an amused expression on his face, mouth open as if to say something else, but when Buck cocks his head, waiting for more, Bobby shuts his mouth and shakes his head. With a wave of his Captain’s hand, Buck shrugs and heads into the backyard.

He finds Eddie talking casually with the two boys, their hands clasped together between them, both looking sheepish. Eddie has his hands on his hips, clearly in his ‘lecturing dad’ mode, but there’s also a fond smile on his face that has Buck smiling in turn. Walking up to the other man, he knocks into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Cap says we’re good if you’re done giving the dad lecture.” Eddie turns to scowl at him, “I was not giving a dad lecture!” One of the teenagers clears his throat lightly, “It was a bit dad-like.” “Be nice.” His crush hisses, glancing at Buck and Eddie. “Don’t worry,” Buck grins back at him, “He’s harmless. Usually.” “Buck.” Eddie sighs in that way he does with only Buck’s name. It’s a bit endearing. “Come on,” Buck knocks Eddie’s shoulder once more, “Let’s go!” He gives a wave to the two boys and spins on his heel, heading back out of the backyard. A choked sound catches his attention, and he goes to turn to check on Eddie, but there’s a firm grip on his elbow, keeping him from doing so and then he’s being hauled out of the backyard by his boyfriend.

Just before the gate, tucked in a pocket of shadow, Eddie is shoving Buck against the wall, one hand cradling the back of Buck’s head while the other sneaks under his turnout coat, and then Eddie’s mouth is crashing down against his. Immediately Buck sinks into the kiss, mouth opening around a moan that Eddie wastes no time in swallowing, sucking Buck’s tongue into his own mouth. Buck scrambles to find purchase on Eddie’s body, the other man having already removed his turnout coat. Buck manages to find Eddie’s suspenders, gripping tightly onto them as Eddie slots a leg between Buck’s, either to help him stay standing or to torture him more. Buck isn’t entirely sure and doesn’t have the brain power to think about it. Eddie pulls back just as suddenly, and Buck chases after the warm mouth, blinking heavily at the heated look being sent in his direction. “Huh?” Brown eyes study him for a moment, allowing Buck to try and gather his scattered thoughts together once more. Then Eddie’s smirking, thumb stroking along Buck’s jaw, causing him to shiver. “You don’t even know, do you?” “Know what?” Buck mutters, tilting his head forward to try and catch Eddie’s lips in another kiss. His boyfriend chuckles but obliges, biting down lightly on Buck’s bottom lip, drawing a small whine from him. “Eddie.” “Baby,” Eddie says against his lips, “You’re wearing my name.” That has Buck pulling away this time, blinking rapidly at Eddie. “What?” Eddie gives the turnout coat Buck’s wearing a tug, “This is mine, mi amor. You have my name on you.” “Oh.” Buck exhales, everything slotting together suddenly. That explained Hen, Chimney, and Bobby. And it certainly explained Eddie jumping him in the shadows while in the middle of a call. "And damn, you look good with my name on you." Eddie mutters, pecking Buck once more before stepping away, “Might have to make it permanent.” He finishes with a wink. Buck watches, gaping, as his boyfriend turns and leaves him there. Oh, he is so paying for that later.

Tagging for sharing because it's fun: @hippolotamus, @diazsdimples, @disasterbuckdiaz, @spotsandsocks, @fortheloveofbuddie, @bucksbackwardcap, @actualalligator, @actuallyitsellie, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @theotherbuckley, @daffi-990, @jesuisici33, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @exhuastedpigeon, @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming, @monsterrae1, @epicbuddieficrecs, @elvensorceress, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @shitouttabuck, @spagheddiediaz, @wildlife4life, @evanbegins, @devirnis, @buckaroosheart, @perfectlysunny02, @nmcggg, @watchyourbuck, @loserdiaz

#tanis answers #tanis writes #prompt fill #smilingbuckley #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie ficlet #usercam #send me prompts if you want!

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kinkandkreep · 1 year

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𝑨/𝑵: 𝑯𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒚'𝒂𝒍𝒍! 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆! 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚.(ᵔ.ᵔ) 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚'𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚❣︎ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵃⁿⁱˢʰ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ᵒᶠᶠ.

♡︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 1 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

♡︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝙾'𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♡︎ 𝙲𝚆: 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍/𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚢

♡︎ "__" 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

When you awoke the next morning, it was to the enticing smell of blended spices. You could pick up the basics, like paprika and pepper, but also something more unique, like turmeric and dill.

You inhaled deeply, a smile curling your lips at the warm, fragrant scent. It was…comforting.

And then you remembered where you were.

‘Wait, I’m at Gigi’s. He can cook? Well, I suppose he does live alone and would need to know how.’

Shrugging to yourself, you stand, stretching until you hear several small pops sound from your back. With a quiet yawn, you made your way back into the en suite, going once again through your oral hygiene routine and splashing some water on your face to help you wake up. You check to see if Miguel has the room stocked with any facial cleanser, and finding there is none, you grab a clean washcloth and give your face a thorough, albeit gentle scrubbing.

With that done, you shuffle your way back down the hall and around the corner into the kitchen, pausing at the sight that greets you.

Miguel stands with his back to you, broad back bare and thick muscles shifting beneath tawny brown skin. He moves about the kitchen with practiced ease, picking and replacing ingredients as he goes.

You notice there are two plates already set out, each with an empty glass and cutlery to accompany it.

Smiling to yourself at the domesticity of it all, you begin approaching, only to realize that Miguel is apparently speaking to someone.

“Yeah, she’s here. Showed up last night bruised up pretty badly. Said she got into a fight with some thugs. She suspects they were using Lazarus. Perhaps this epidemic is becoming worse than we originally thought.”

Quietly taking a seat at the island, you continue listening, curious to see what else Miguel might say.

“I suppose so. We’ll have to be more vigilant.” He’s silent for a moment as the other person speaks. “Alright, well if that’s all then. Let me know of any further developments.”

Once his call has ended, Miguel sighs, pausing in his movements momentarily before turning.

“Good morning,” he greets, a little grin curving his lips.

“Good morning,” you respond with a little smile of your own, slightly surprised that he’d apparently heard you.

“I made omelets. I wasn’t sure how you liked yours, so I just added basic seasonings, cheese and flank steak.” He turns to lift the pan, sliding the steaming omelet out and directly onto your plate.

“I figured the extra protein would do you good. Contributes to accelerated wound healing, and all that.”

He turned back to the stove, speedily cracking six eggs and adding extra ingredients and spices into his own omelet.

You decided to wait until he was finished to begin eating, finding yourself content to just watch him move. As you watched him, your mind began to wonder.

‘How nice it would be to have this all the time.’

You jerked slightly at the sudden thought. Where had that come from?

The more you thought about it however, the more you leaned into the notion.

How nice it would be indeed, to have a sexy man make you breakfast every morning.

You giggled at the thought, causing Miguel to hum curiously.

“Something funny?”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Oh nothing, just had a thought.”

Miguel hummed again, turning to dispense his own finished omelet onto his plate. Just before sitting, he poured himself a cup of freshly pressed coffee.

“Coffee or orange juice?” He presented both options to you.

“Hmmm…orange juice.”

Nodding, Miguel filled your cup, placing the still mostly full pitcher on the counter in front of you. Taking his seat, the two of you began to eat in comfortable silence.

The rain had since stopped, and the sky was a little overcast. This high up there weren’t many birds, but you could inevitably still hear the sounds of the city far below.

“Gigi, can I ask you something?”

The man paused, curiosity swirling in his red irises. He’d stopped mid chew, leaving his cheeks adorably puffed. You laughed yet again at the sight, missing the way Miguel’s expression softened at the sound.

“Yes?”

Stifling your remaining giggles, you leveled Miguel with a more serious look.

“About last night-”

“Ok, I’m not sure how much you remember, but I can assure you we didn’t have sex.”

Your eyes widened, blinking once, twice, before collapsing into another fit of raucous laughter.

“No, I know that Gigi. I was bleeding, not concussed. Thankfully.”

Miguel sighed, setting his fork down on his plate.

“Ok good. So, what about last night?”

You took a moment, considering your words carefully. You didn’t want to startle Miguel into closing off, but you needed to get a straight answer.

“Um, well, I heard you talking to Lyla last night.”

Miguel’s eyes began to widen, and you quickly threw up your hands, waving them in front of you.

“No no no! Just wait. Before you shut down on me just…let me finish, ok?”

Silently, Miguel nodded, gaze still focused in on you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you continued. “I heard you say that you didn’t know if I “felt the same way” about something.”

Meeting Miguel’s eyes, you steeled yourself. “What did you mean by that?”

The man was quiet, almost unnervingly so as he just stared at you. You squirmed almost imperceptibly in your seat, trying not to appear intimidated.

After quite a few moments, Miguel sighed yet again, and he averted his gaze.

“Ah mierda. I was really hoping you hadn’t heard us.” His eyes were closed, until they snapped open and he turned to you, narrowed crimson gaze sharp and scrutinizing.

“You were eavesdropping?”

Having been caught, you looked away, scratching your cheek nervously. “Sorta, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Rolling his eyes, Miguel turned his body towards you, propping his elbow onto the island and his head onto his now raised hand.

“Hmm, how do I say this?” Miguel's expression was pensive.

“After you showed up last night, all injured and bloody, it made me start thinking.”

You listened quietly, the beat of your heart beginning to pick up speed.

“What we do is dangerous. Being vigilantes- heroes, whatever- does not come without risk. I know I don’t have to tell you this, but this is honestly what was on my mind.”

He paused again, and you took the opportunity to speak.

“It wasn’t so serious Miguel. Just some contusions and a few scrapes.” You tried to downplay your injuries, but realized that was the wrong move as Miguel’s expression hardened.

“Maybe to you, __. But what if it hadn’t just been some “contusions and scrapes?” What if those thugs had broken your ribs, or given you a serious head injury and left you unconscious or…or worse?”

Though you knew he didn’t mean to sound condescending, a part of you couldn’t help but feel like Miguel doubted your abilities. This irritated you, and you scoffed, arms folded across your chest defensively.

“What, you actually think I would’ve let that happen? Shows just how much faith you have in me huh?”

Miguel’s stare narrowed once more. “You know that’s not what I meant, __.”

“Well that’s what it sounded like, Miguel.” You missed his visible wince at the emphasis you put on his birth name.

Sighing, you stood, moving to the sink to rinse your dishes, then placing them in the empty dishwasher. Turning back to Miguel, you approached the opposite side of the island where you now stood, leaning your upper body against it.

“Look Gigi, I understand what you’re getting at. What we do is dangerous. But that’s why we have the abilities we do, right? I can’t say with certainty that last night was a one off occurrence. If I continue down this path, I’m sure there’ll be plenty more fights and injuries and lots more blood to accompany them. But it’s ok. I know better than to get myself killed. And I don’t do this just for the fun of it. It’s my duty to protect. And it’s one I take very seriously.”

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on Miguel’s shoulder.

“Besides, I couldn’t leave my favorite guy behind, could I?” You smile brightly at him, eyes slipping closed. Your hand instinctively moves up, gently tussling Miguel’s hair.

With your eyes closed, you don’t see Miguel’s soft, fond smile, or the way his eyes slightly mist over.

Your eyes open when you feel him stand to his full height, and you blink up at him questioningly.

“Gigi?”

He doesn’t respond, instead his breathing begins to pick up, and you worry he’s on the verge of a panic attack.

“H-hey, Gigi! Are you ok? Do you need-...”

“I love you, __.”

You freeze, your entire body taut with shock. Miguel spoke so calmly, and you can feel heat blooming in your chest.

“Y-yeah. Love you too,” you playfully punch his arm, tone awkward. “Bro.”

Miguel grabs your hand from his arm before you can move it away, instead bringing it to rest on his chest, right over his heart.

“No, __. I mean I love you. And I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been contemplating this for quite some time.”

He steps closer to you, releasing your hand. You unconsciously keep it on his chest, feeling the calming rhythm of his heartbeat.

With both hands free, Miguel lifts them to cradle your cheeks, staring into your eyes intently.

“You’re right, I was talking to Lyla about you last night. She was trying to convince me to be honest about my feelings with you. I thought at the time, I didn’t have it in me just yet, and right then wouldn’t have been appropriate anyway. But, I’m sort of glad you did bring it up, because now I can more easily tell you how I truly feel.”

Your lips have been parted this whole time, so entranced you were by Miguel and his words. You finally move your hand, now bringing both yours up to wrap around Miguel’s wrists.

“Miguel-...”

“Ssshh.” He playfully shushes you, repeating your words back from earlier. “Just let me finish, ok?”

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

Once he feels you won’t interrupt, Gigi sighs, shaking his head.

“I may have seemed calm then, but seeing you last night in the state you were in sent me into an internal state of panic I don’t think I’ve felt before. Rage also built up in me, so angry I was at the thought that someone put their hands on you in such a way.” Miguel needed to take a deep breath, as he could feel the anger beginning to creep up again.

“But I realized it was par for the course of being a hero, and me lashing out and being irrational would do you no good.”

At this point, Miguel backed away, guiding you towards the couch. You sat facing each other, knees bumping and eyes still locked.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I know that I love you, __. But I’m so afraid to give my heart to you for fear that you’ll be snatched away from me one day. I don’t think I could handle something like that.” He placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. “It would feel like a part of me was missing.”

The man choked on the last few words, and you were taken aback as tears began slowly trickling down his cheeks. Snapping out of your reverie, you quickly leaned forward, tenderly wiping the tears away with your thumbs.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok.” You cooed. “Thank you for telling me how you feel.”

Miguel nodded, trying to meet your eyes through his tears. You smiled at him, feeling something warm and fuzzy spread through your chest.

“To be honest with you Gigi, I…have a little crush on you myself.”

At that, the man perked up, eyes widening. “You do?”

You nodded, feeling a bit bashful now. “I wasn’t going to say anything either, for fear of how you might receive me. But, I’m so glad that now we’ve gotten the opportunity to air everything out.”

You gave him an adorably crooked grin.

Gigi didn’t respond immediately, his eyes focused on your lips. Without making eye contact, he spoke.

“I hope this doesn’t seem too forward, but…can I kiss you?”

You were stunned for only a moment, before that grin morphed into a genuine, warm smile.

“Yes Gigi, you’re welcome to kiss me.”

The end of your sentence was a bit muffled by Miguel’s lips crashing into yours. The kiss was prolonged, a sensual dance of tongue and buried feelings being brought to the surface. Miguel tasted like warm spice, courtesy of his omelet from earlier, but also something dark and sweet.

You found yourself quickly becoming addicted.

Lips still entangled, Miguel lifted you by your waist, sliding you into his lap as he rested against the back of the couch. Your hands found themselves tangled in his messy chestnut locks, pulling slightly on instinct.

You were surprised by the low growl that sounded from Miguel, and for a second you worried you’d done something he didn’t like.

“Pull my hair more.”

Unwilling to displease your new beau, you did as asked, very pleasantly surprised when the kiss became more intense as a result.

The two of you stayed that way for quite a few minutes more, each simply savoring the taste of the other.

Eventually, you were the first to pull away, giggling as Miguel’s lips desperately followed yours.

“Where’d you learn how to kiss like that?” You lifted a quizzical brow.

Miguel smirked. “I’d tell you, but then you’d probably want to kill me.”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Now sliding off of Miguel’s lap, you curled up next to him, one of his muscular arms moving to cradle you into his side.

“Soooo…”

He hummed. “So what?”

“We’re officially dating now right?”

Miguel looked at you from the corner of his eye, smiling after a moment. “Yes __, we’re officially dating now.”

You grinned happily, placing a peppy kiss on his cheek. “Good.”

It was quiet for a bit between you before you spoke again.

“I love you, Miguel.”

“Yo también te amo, mi cariño.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse

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harryforvogue · 5 months

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do you guys think mia’s harry ever gets snobby? i think so. i mean he’s grown up rich. of course he’s gonna say something that will have mia going “um what?”

canonically, he’s pretty snobby about the clothes he wears. he gets custom tailored suits and designer shoes. and he’s wearing them proudly. often looks at mia’s sweaters and tells her he can buy her the same things but in cashmere.

but i also think he gets snobby without realizing it. they’re sitting at a restaurant and mia’s really enjoying herself and all that, and she thinks everything’s going super well.

but then when they’re driving home, harry sighs deeply and says, “what a disaster.”

and mia’s like “huh?”

and he looks over at her. “i mean, cmon, right? how do you get a salad wrong??”

and mia’s like … “the salad?”

“yeah i mean the dressing was totally off. they should have just gone for a vinaigrette. they were so cheap with it too. it was practically a dry salad.”

“i thought it said it came with balsamic vinegar.”

“vinaigrette, mia.”

“yeah that.”

“definitely not the same thing.” he looks disappointed in her. “and it didn’t. they should have though. and my steak was way too over cooked. i wouldn’t go there again. i’ve had better food from street vendors in new york.”

and mia’s just quiet because she thought the food was fantastic but apparently her tastes aren’t as expensive.

“snob,” she mumbled to herself.

harry whips his head to look at her. “what did you just call me?”

“a snob.”

“i am not a snob!”

“it was a salad, harry.”

“it was done incorrectly!”

“salads are just salads! not to mention it was a side salad.”

“still part of the meal!”

“you just hate poor people food!”

“you didn’t even look at the bill, mia! that was a very expensive meal!”

(it’s true. mia had just slid it over to harry and gave him a sweet smile.)

#harry and mia

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idyllcy · 1 year

Text

serendipity

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: nsfw

Summary: Kamukura cries for the first time in years.

Kamukura Izuru doesn't know how to love. Sure, he's the crown prince of a nation his older brother refuses to rule and the child of a loving family, but he doubts the reincarnation of a literal god could understand how to love someone. Love is too hard. People do too many outrageous things in the name of love. He doesn't understand why love is such a big deal. Well, he supposes it's necessary for people to love you if you're going to be sitting on a throne. So, he keeps up his formalities, entertaining people he knows he has to and leaving people who don't matter be.

His parents worry about how little he eats sometimes. His brother was getting married after the announcement of his engagement with the empire's crown regent, and he was only next. They were but a kingdom. In practice, he should have married the regent in order to strengthen his claim to the throne, but he supposes his brother was the one who the regent fell for. He doesn't know. All he knows is that the nobles behind his brother are pushing further for his claim to the throne despite Kamukura's upcoming coronation. His mother was stepping down, but they were still waiting for him to marry. The aristocrats are watching his every step, and he thinks they won't touch him.

Until he has blood dripping out of his mouth after biting into a steak.

The queen and king yell for a doctor at the sight of their youngest, and Kamukura collects the blood on the napkin in his lap, wiping it away as if it were nothing. Yet, the royal doctor is called in to check his pulse and health. He finds no need for it. His parents react as if he's going to die each time he takes a bite of poison.

"Mother," He coughs, trying to lodge the rest of the poison from his throat. "It is simply a small dose of arsenic. I will not die from it."

"What if it affects the rest of your body?" The queen only sighs in relief as the doctor tells her he's fine. "Fetch that child from the slums who's a witch for poisons. I shall have them test poisons for the crown prince."

The servants mumble under their breaths at the title. Crown prince. Kamukura had officially been referred to as the crown prince as soon as the first prince didn't return with them from the expedition into the empire. Kamukura sits back up as the servants bring out a new steak, and the queen stares down the servant who tries it. They take a bite, and once they do not react, Kamukura starts eating. He has no appetite, but he finishes it since he caused such a hassle. A poison taster is pointless.

Yet, as the young one introduces themselves, Kamukura tilts his head once they ask if there had been poison recently. "It smells of arsenic." They shrugged, and the queen had taken a liking to them immediately. Apparently, they ran a network of poisons in upper society. By having them on his side, it would put things at peace to some extent. "There is no poison I do not know." before presenting the royal family with a belladonna flower.

"And your name?"

"Belladonna, crown prince," You smiled.

Kamukura has you try the food at first. He doesn't trust your utensils per the request of the queen, so he cuts the food and feeds you a piece by hand, not bothering to stare at you as you chew the food and smell it. It's safer these days. The queen credits it to you since the aristocratic faction had settled down ever since their main poison supplier had been cut off. You smile and wave it off, but Kamukura notices the way you still study poisons in the room provided to you. You never stopped. All you had done was continue to develop your poisons. You make much more than what they pay you, so he can only assume you're still selling poisons.

"Belladonna." Kamukura stares at you, pointing the fork at you. "Stop selling poisons."

"It is my livelihood, your majesty," You pull the steak from his fork and chew on it. Licking your lips, you don't answer his request. "It's safe to eat, your majesty."

"It's an order." Kamukura stares at you. "Stop selling poisons."

"I must be compensated some way, your majesty. You don't pay half as much as my old job does."

"We provide for housing and provide you with a salary. What else must you want?"

You stare at him, smiling. "Time will tell. I do not plan on staying here forever."

"Why?"

"I am a commoner, your majesty." You stare at him. He knows why you can't stay. He wonders why he asks. "It is unfitting for me to stay close by to you."

Kamukura sighs, cutting into the steak.

"Darling," the queen is next. Kamukura glances at the queen as she places a tray of tarts on his desk. "How is the witch?"

"They are fine." Kamukura reaches for the tart, pausing. "Call for Belladonna."

The queen is surprised once you open the bookcase leading to his study from yours.

"What?" You mumble, already in a chemise instead of the morning outfit.

"Test." He hands you a tart, and you take a bite.

"Safe," You mumble.

Kamukura nods, finishing the rest of the tart. The queen blinks in surprise at the prince's lack of concern for mixing saliva, and she watches as the prince finishes the tarts she brought without further word. You retreat once he waves you off, mumbling about how the tarts tasted good. The queen tilts her head once Kamukura's ears perk at the compliment. Yet, the bookshelf closes behind you, and the queen stares at the prince.

"What was that?"

"My poison-tester. You know I like eating throughout, so I decided it would be best for them to stay close by." Kamukura goes back to the documents, and the queen sighs.

"I heard the witch is still selling poisons."

"Yes." Kamukura sighs. "But it is not to worry. They've been told to provide me with a list of their clients."

The queen laughs. "Is that all? You have such faith."

"They are testing for poison each day," Kamukura pauses. "What is an exchange of such?"

"Monarchs don't-"

"But they are still my people." Kamukura mumbles. "Even the lowest criminal is. You taught me that, mother."

The queen shakes her head. "You must marry soon."

"To anyone?"

"It must be an aristocrat."

Kamukura wonders why he thinks of you before the title of aristocrat.

The servants are ordered around to dig up dirt on you, and Kamukura finds papers upon papers of the report about you. You're an ex-aristocrat. You killed your father. All sorts of strange rumors about the witch pop up in the papers as the spy report it all. He wonders how much of it is true. Yet, as you show up to breakfast with him the next morning, he pays no mind to it. You bite on the egg, and you smell the food.

"It's fine, but it's got traces of arsenic in it. I heard it's going around in the waterways." You cough away from the food.

"Do you need-"

"I'm fine," You pop open a bottle and down the drink. Kamukura stares, hand held up in case you need a doctor, but you're fine. He pauses, staring at his hand. You tilt your head, coughing twice before feeling fine. "Please replace the king's food and cook it with coconut water instead."

"But, Belladonna." The butler tries to explain. "The coconuts are washed with the same water."

"You can't serve the crown prince nothing." You shrug.

"I'll eat it," Kamukura cuts into the egg. "Have an antidote handy."

Kamukura doesn't remember the last time he's finished a meal laced with poison. He had a couple when young, but he wonders why the antidote has no effect on him. The arsenic has no effect on him either. He stares at you for an answer, but you only offer him a shrug. You have not the faintest idea either. Kamukura waves the servants out, and he goes out to the waterway, having you look at the arsenic poison.

"It was poured." You smell the water.

"Seize the palace at once." Kamukura orders. The poisoning incident sends you to overnight fame, the newspapers with your face plastered all over it. You read over it amusedly as you take a bite from Kamukura's fork during lunch. You cough on it, and Kamukura's neck snaps to face you immediately.

"Are-"

"Sorry," You cough. "The food went down the wrong pipe. It's not poisoned."

Kamukura rolls his eyes, going back to his food. You stare at the butler as he places a plate of food before you, and you raise a brow.

"Eat with me from now on." Kamukura orders.

You don't struggle. Good food is good food.

You smile as you finish your plate, and Kamukura has dessert taken out. He makes you take a bite of his tart first before another tart is placed before you. You blink in surprise.

"For me?"

"Eat." Kamukura turns to the side as he eats, and you beam in happiness.

Kamukura has you sit in his room now, and you have nothing to do.

"Read."

"Illiterate." You stare at Kamukura. "I can't read?"

"How are you selling and making potions?"

"All," You point at your brain. "Here."

"Your majesty," A servant calls through the door. "Countess Nanami is here to visit."

You sit up, and you slip through the bookshelf without Kamukura telling you to. You wander through the stone paths until you get to your own room. You're tired. You'll nap until dinner.

You wake when the moon is in the sky, and you wonder why no one had called you for dinner. You turn to ring for a maid, and a young girl rushes in.

"Um, the countess said not to bother you."

You shrug, and you go back to bed at the news. You wake the next morning when the king calls for you, and you head to breakfast with a chemise on. The queen laughs with delight as you show yourself, and Kamukura waves you over, taking off his jacket to cover you.

"You're dressed like a lowlife whore."

"That's what I am, am I not?" You shrug. Kamukura feeds you a piece of his breakfast, and you shrug. "Safe to eat."

Kamukura has your plate served, and you eat alongside the king and queen.

"I'm bringing a snack to my study later, so stick with me."

You wonder sometimes what kind of a relationship you have with the crown prince. The half-eaten macarons are left on the table as his head is between your legs, staring you down as his hand clasps over your mouth to prevent you from making a sound. He draws crashes and crashes of your orgasm out of you, and he only leaves you be once he seems to be content. You wonder if you had unintentionally sold your body while checking for poison in the prince's meals.

Kamukura lifts his face from between your legs, the bottom half of his face drenched.

"Thank you."

You whimper as he pats you dry, and you exhale as he sits back at his desk, continuing on his duties as if he had nothing to do. Maybe you were something to entertain him until he married. You were disposable, now that you thought about it. You get up from the couch, feeling the cum dried cum shift as you move, and you leave to head back to your own room.

Somewhere down the line, you had turned into a toy belonging to the crown prince. You're a placeholder until a crown princess can be selected. You entertain the crown prince day and night, checking his food for poison and such. You wonder if you should just pass away. That way you wouldn't need to see the servants' hatred in their eyes.

The opportunity comes at dinner in the form of sashimi. The pufferfish wasn't cleaned well. You take a bite from Kamukura's fork and sit down. You wait for the effects to settle in. Coughing up blood as once it does, you feel satisfied with yourself. You'd pass with this, you think. You lock eyes with Kamukura as your vision blurs, and your heart drops once he yells for a doctor with panicked eyes. You didn't know the crown prince was capable of such emotion. Well, your fault for it.

You wake up in a week next to a tired crown prince who's moved his desk into your room. You blink first, turning to stare at the prince fallen asleep at your bedside. You then cough, causing the prince to wake at the sound, eyes locking with yours again. He lets out a sound between a moan and a sigh in relief, and he calls for the doctor. You get your pulse checked, and you're put on probation from working until the crown prince lets you.

"Why did you move here?" You turn to look at the prince, soup in your hands.

"When you passed out," Kamukura swallows. "I felt something."

"And?"

"Panic. For the first time, I wasn't certain if you'd be able to survive." Kamukura holds your hand to his forehead, shaking with each move. "I don't want you to pass."

"Huh?"

"I'll let you return to the village if you'd like," Kamukura mumbles. "I'll let you live lavishly and never have to do anything ever again in your life. I just... I just don't want you to get poisoned like that again."

"Your majesty," You sigh. "I have to. I'm your poison taster. I signed my life away when I first decided to move here, even if I was selling poisons still."

"You can't," Kamukura mumbles. "I shall lay you off."

"Your majesty-"

"You can stay next to me," He shakes. "You just... don't scare me as that anymore."

"Your majesty-"

"I'm resistant to poisons yet mother insists on taking you by my side, and now I'm the one enraptured by your presence. Belladonna, please do not kill yourself. I know you believe I wouldn't care as the future king, but I assure you that I would burn the kingdom to the ground if you asked me of it. Please, belladonna."

You sigh.

"Who am I to turn down the crown prince?"

Kamukura goes quiet.

"Of course I would stay, your majesty. A mere servant as myself could not possibly turn you down. Even if I could, I would stay, for where else do I have to go to?"

You notice the prince is staring right at you, and you sigh.

"You have fallen from the sky." You mumble. "And the world lies in your hands, so there is no reason for me to turn you down, even if I am ashamed of my actions and will live as the focus of rumors."

"I will kill them all for you," Kamukura brushes your hair back. "For you, my love."

"Thank you," You mumble. "My prince."

"For you." Kamukura whispers.

#☾.nsfw #kamukura x reader #izuru x reader #izuru kamukura x reader #I (also) don't like this fic lol it was too rushed for my liking #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #dr3 x reader #izuru kamukura #☾.fics

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zirawrites · 1 year

Note

'capped her kid' yowch

ok time to cheer everyone up~

companions react to sole and shaun making them breakfast in bed?

they deserve a good day off.

Cait: Cait wasn’t the kind of gal to get sentimental, but there was something about Shaun standing at the end of her bed with his wide smile and hands clutching a plate of pancakes that made her melt. “Is all this for me?” Cait greedily snatched the food from Shaun, and he gave a boyish giggle. “Shaun, be a dear and grab me a beer and this breakfast is perfect.”

Codsworth: Codsworth didn’t have a designated sleeping area, but that didn’t stop Shaun and Sole from buying his favorite motor oil as a gift for after he was done recharging. “Goodness! I thought I was the one supposed to give you both breakfast in bed.” His mechanical eyes blinked away phantom tears. “I will endeavor to make the most of this motor oil by using it to fuel a deep-clean of the house.”

Curie: Curie was sure that the Sugar Bombs cereal, whipped creamed pancakes and cherry Nuka Cola wasn’t exactly a nutritious meal, but she ignored her impulse to lecture Shaun about the food pyramid when she saw how eager he was for her to try his breakfast. “Did Sole let you flip the pancakes?” she asked. Shaun nodded enthusiastically. “That is my favorite part as well.”

Danse: Danse was used to unseasoned slop heaped onto a metal tray in the Prydwyn canteen. He wasn’t sure how to react when Shaun and Sole handed him a plate of waffles covered in candy and whipped cream; apparently Shaun’s favorite treat on Sunday mornings. He had endearingly helped Sole make an extra plate. “Thank you for the subsidence, Shaun.” Danse paused. “And the future toothache.”

Deacon: Deacon knew he was being cheekier than usual, but it was more fun to play an entitled brat than boringly accept Shaun and Sole’s breakfast. He leaned back on his pillows, folding his hands behind his head and stretching against the mattress. “Ah, finally! Shaunsworth, Soleington. You’re late with my breakfast.” Shaun laughed while Sole rolled their eyes. “This is coming straight out of your trust fund. I mean salary. I can’t remember which is which because I am a busy and rich businessman late for five meetings and a stock market.”

Hancock: “This all for me?” Hancock’s grin stretched across his leathery face as he took in all the colorful breakfast items Shaun and Sole had whipped up. There was a little bit of everything and sprinkled with candy, which was no doubt Shaun’s request. “Now this is a meal fit for a mayor.”

MacCready: Mac couldn’t help but tear up as little Shaun sat on the edge of his bed with a plate of pancakes. It reminded him of when Lucy helped Duncan make a breakfast of their own. “Aw, Shaun. You shouldn’t have.” When Shaun added that Sole had also helped, MacCready wiped tears on the back of his sleeve.

Preston: “The most important meal of the day!” Preston wasn’t sure what else to say at Shaun and Sole’s hospitality. He was always the one making food for settlers. No one had ever done the same for him since he was a kid. “I need the fuel for a run later today. Thanks for thinking of me, Shaun.”

Piper: “Gimmiegimmiegimmie!” Piper grabbed towards the tray of breakfast like an eager child, and Shaun laughed as he cautiously handed it to her. “What’d you make me, Shaun? Sugar Bombs casserole? Mirelurk steak?” She looked at the fluffy pancakes with a smiley-face drawn in whipped cream and smiled. “Aw, I didn’t know you knew how to draw my picture.”

Nick: Shaun was so excited to show Nick his breakfast that the synth didn’t have the guts to tell him that he couldn’t eat. “Real kind of you, Shaun.” Then Nick side-eyed Sole, and they knew Nick expected them to eat it for him to keep up the charade.

X6-88: X6 wasn’t used to anyone making him food as much as he wasn’t used to an enthusiastic little boy bouncing at the end of his bed. Shaun held up the plate of breakfast with a wide smile and expectant expression. “This is for me?” X6 glanced nervously at Sole. “I prefer more protein, but...” He took the plate of sugary food from Shaun and shrugged. “This will do. Thank you, Shaun.”

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 reactions #this went to the top of the queue bc it made me smile #deacon's reaction legit made me laugh while writing #nick valentine #fallout 4 deacon #maccready #hancock #piper wright #preston garvey #fallout 4 curie #fallout 4 cait #codsworth #fallout 4 x6 #danse #fallout 4 shaun

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livyjh · 1 year

Text

This is the Way (Home)

Chapter 2

Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 4k

Entire work can be found on ao3 here

Chapter links listed at top of first chapter

Chapter warnings: oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), masturbation, audible voyeurism (don’t know how else to phrase this, basically secretly listening to someone else doing sexual things).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mandalorian returned in a short 20 minutes, a thick paper box in hand.

He gave it to you, “Hope you like bantha and flatbread.”

“Never tried bantha, actually.” You say to him, opening the box and taking a whiff. It actually smelled pretty good. The meat was cut into small, steak like pieces. And the flatbread had an oily spread of some kind.

You dig in and make a soft sound at the taste. “This is… very good.”

The Mandalorian only nods slightly in response.

He’s so quiet. Pensive. Alert.

You wonder if there isn’t a way to get him to open up a little bit. Besides, if you were going to be stuck in a room with him for three or more nights, you’d need to find something to talk about. Right?

Apparently not. You’d tried striking up conversation with him several times throughout the rest of the night until it finally reached 11pm and you passed out in bed.

***

The next morning, you wake up, seeing Mando sitting in the same exact place on the bed that he was when you fell asleep.

“Did you not sleep?” You roll onto your side to face him.

“No. Needed to keep guard.” He says flatly.

You sigh before sitting up. “I’ll take a turn. You sleep.”

He looks at you for a long moment. “Look, no offense, but-“

“I’ve been trained in basic hand to hand combat.” You interrupt him.

“You-?” He shakes his head.

“I’m not as weak as I look, either.” You smile at him.

“I’m not tired. Maybe later.” He argues.

“Fine. I need to shower.” You get out of bed and slide into the fresher, getting undressed and turning on the shower.

Once the water was warm enough, you stepped in under it, sighing happily at the feeling.

You clean yourself off, wishing you’d done this last night. But you were just too tired.

Once done, you turn the shower off and get out, drying off and putting your dirty clothes back on. You wondered if you could bribe Mando into taking you shopping later.

You stepped out of the fresher, feeling… well, fresher. You had a towel wrapped around your head to try and get your hair to dry a bit, going to sit on your bed.

“Go ahead. It’s all yours.” You point to the fresher.

“Thanks.” He rasps, getting up and going inside.

After a few minutes you rest your head back against the pillows, letting the sound of the shower soothe you. The shower later turns off and it’s a good ten minutes before he steps back out, fully armored up, helmet, gloves and all.

“Hey, Mando?” You move to sit up.

“Yes, princess?”

His formal address to you sounded… well, it made blood rush down between your legs. And up to your face.

You were blushing now, jaw slack with your mouth hanging open as you try to push the words out of your mouth. “Uh- I would- could we get me some clean clothes?”

“Oh!” He says in realization. “Of course.”

“Alright, let’s go.” You take the towel off from your head.

“I must insist you stay here.” Mando sighs.

You cross your arms over your chest. “I can fend for myself.”

He thinks for a moment. “No. Not risking it. I need to get you home safe, if someone dangerous spots you, there could be a problem.”

You roll your eyes and sit back down on the bed. “Fine.”

“Thank you. I promise, it’s for the best.” He reassures you.

“Yeah, alright.” You take the notepad from the table between the beds and the pen next to it, writing down your sizes for different clothing items. You rip the front paper off and hand it to Mando. “Here.”

“I’ll be back soon.” He nods and leaves.

***

He’s gone for almost two hours and you wonder if he’s having trouble. It’s not like he regularly went clothes shopping, having his uniform, especially not for other people.

Just as you realize you should’ve asked him to bring food back, the door opens and he enters. He must have good intuition because you could smell food, you knew he had to have something in the big canvas bag he was carrying.

He pulls out a box, similar to the one from last night, and hands it to you. You open it up and it was, in fact, the same thing from last night. Not that you minded, it was good food. Besides, it didn’t seem like this town had too many options anyways.

“Thank you.” You smile at him and wish you knew a better way to thank him besides your parents paying him when he returned you home.

You started to eat as Mando began to lay out the clothes he’d gotten you at the end of your bed.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, but, this should at least get you by.” He explains.

“No underwear?” You take a look at all the clothes, then at him.

“Uh, I didn’t- well, you didn’t write-“ he starts.

“I’m just fucking with you.” You laugh. You didn’t normally wear underwear. But he didn’t really need to know that.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and nods, laying down on his bed with a long sigh.

“Mando, please, please… sleep.” You encourage him. “At least a nap.”

He considers it for a moment. “Fine. Wake me up in two hours.”

“Okay.” You agree and he rolls over, facing away from you on his bed.

You lay there, entertaining yourself with your thoughts. After a half hour, Mando moans quietly and rolls onto his stomach. You don’t think much of it. At first.

But then it kept echoing in your head. It was soft, sensual. You wondered if he wasn’t having an especially good dream.

You were certain he was asleep now, his breathing mostly evened out, quiet but deep. You reached down into your pants, brushing two fingers over your clit.

You let out a shaky breath and pushed your hips up, pressing your fingers harder to your sensitive bud and tracing circles over it.

“Fuck.” You whisper under your breath, slowly speeding up as the pressure builds in the pit of your stomach.

After a couple minutes you’re really going at it, now on your side, face in the pillow as you moan softly, squeezing your legs together as you rub your clit at a fast speed.

You feel your orgasm approaching and part of you doesn’t know how quiet you can be. But it feels so good and you can’t stop now.

Soon, you’re cumming against your fingers, silently screaming into the pillow and then letting out little whimpers as you came down. With his helmet on, and being asleep, you’re sure you were safe from Mando hearing anything.

Maker, you needed that. Something to actually relax you. You were kidnapped, taken to a brand new planet, and then got stuck in this room at an inn. It was just the release you needed to calm your nerves and anxiety about getting home.

You turn on the television, muting it and just reading the captions to figure out what was going on. You would let Mando sleep longer than two hours if you could manage it. He needed it.

Four hours have passed since Mando had laid down and you decide it’s probably a good time to wake him.

“Mando.” You whisper.

He doesn’t move.

“Mando.” You now say at a normal level. “Mandoooo.”

“Hm?” He rolls onto his back and looks over at you, then to the clock on the wall above the television. “I said two hours.”

“Figured you needed it.” You shrug at him.

He sighs. “You’re probably right… but, can you stick to what I say next time, please?”

You roll your eyes a little. “Yeah, sure.” You agree.

“Thanks.” He sits up in the bed and watches the television program with you for a bit, once you turned the sound back on.

It was nearing dinner time, you noticed, and your stomach grumbled a little. You weren’t opposed to relying on someone else for food, it just felt bothersome asking.

You muster up the courage, “Hey, I’m kind of hungry. Do you think-?”

“Yeah.” He interrupts you and stands. “Same thing or something else?” He asks considerably.

“Same thing is fine. Might want something different tomorrow, though.” You shrug.

He nods and leaves, you take the opportunity to go into the fresher with a set of new clothes and put them on. It felt better to be in clean clothes.

You walk back out and sit down, watching the television for a bit until Mando got back.

You hear the key in the door, the lock clicking open. He barely opens it, “Are you decent?” He asks.

“Uhh, yeah?” You raise a brow, wondering why he’d even ask.

He comes into the room the rest of the way, door shutting behind him.

“Why?” You look at him.

“Why what?” He looked down at you.

“Why’d you ask if I was decent?” You laugh awkwardly.

“Um-“ he pauses for a long moment. “I might’ve heard- when you were… earlier…”

And then it dawns on you. Oh, Maker, why you?

“Oh, fuck.” Your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink and you cover your mouth, breaking eye contact and looking down at the floor.

“It’s okay. Don’t- don’t be embarrassed… I just hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet and-“

“Don’t be embarrassed?!” You snap at him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I figured you would’ve been more embarrassed had I stopped you… during.” He explains.

You consider it for a second. Yeah, that would’ve been more embarrassing.

“Fucking Maker.” You cover your face with both hands and shake your head.

“Everyone has uh, needs.” He shrugs and sits down on his bed.

“Oh? Even you?” You crack a joke, peeking at him through your fingers.

He takes a moment before answering. “Sure.” There’s another pause before he hands you the box of food. “Here.”

“Th- thanks.” You lower your hands and reach out for it.

You turn towards the television, putting your feet up on your bed and relaxing against the headboard. Your face was still warm, red as you ate.

You slowly started to calm your anxiety about the whole situation and focus on the holodrama that was on, tossing the empty food box into the bin next to you.

A few hours pass and your eyes start to get droopy, unable to stay open. You crawl under the covers and lay down, facing away from Mando. “Night.”

“Night.” You heard him get up and turn off the television before getting back on his bed.

Then there’s silence.

You lay there awake for almost two hours despite your exhaustion, dreading the fact that the Mandalorian heard you touching yourself. You wondered if he was judging you for it. Earlier he told you not to be embarrassed. What did that mean? He didn’t mind it?

Fuck, did he… like it?

That’s the last thought you have before you fall asleep.

***

You’re not sure when you turned over last night, but you wake up facing an empty bed, rather than the fresher, how you’d fallen asleep.

You open your mouth to say his name, but then you hear it.

“Fuck.” You hear an unmodulated, quiet voice coming from the fresher.

You look over your shoulder to its closed door and raise a brow.

“Ah.” You hear a soft moan and then blood is rushing between your legs.

You cover your mouth and turn back over, away from the fresher, listening.

At least he has the decency to do it behind a closed door, you think to yourself.

You hear Mando breathing hard, increasingly fast until a broken whine comes from him. You’re fucking throbbing.

It’s all very quiet, just loud enough for you to hear it. Had you been asleep still, it wouldn’t have woken you up. You wished you could be doing the same thing as him right now.

A couple minutes of silence pass and then you hear the fresher door slide open, boots stepping quietly over to his bed.

You keep your eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness. You end up falling back asleep for a little while.

When you wake up a second time this morning, you’re still facing him as your eyes open. He’s laid down on the bed, facing the ceiling, chest moving up and down slowly.

“Mando?” You whisper.

“What?” His voice surprises you, thinking he’d been asleep. You never can tell with him, you decide.

“Can I please get out of the room for a bit today?” You sit up.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He shakes his head.

“Oh, come on, they’ve probably forgotten all about me by now.” You get up and straighten out your clothes, slipping your shoes on.

He watches you for a second, getting up and getting between you and the exit. “No.”

“I’m bored out of my mind, sitting here all day. Come on, just take me out for breakfast?” You ask sweetly.

He sighs and shakes his head. “You’ll have to go through me.”

You huff a laugh and roll your eyes. Like you’d told him, you were trained in basic hand to hand combat. But you knew he was far stronger than you.

Nonetheless, you raise your arm, about to swing for the spot above his chest plate when his hand suddenly grabs your raised arm at the wrist.

You gasp softly, his grip tightening slightly the longer you stood there. A couple seconds pass and you’re blushing, not able to think straight enough to try and hit him with your other hand.

“I said: no.” He growls at you and you can’t help the whimper that escapes you.

Your free hand slowly moves to his waist, then up to his chest. You move closer, pressing yourself into him and-

“Oh.” You mumble, feeling him hard against your hip.

He lets out a strained sigh, hand loosening from around your wrist.

You push forward into him and he groans, letting go of your wrist completely. You drop to your knees in front of him, looking up through your lashes.

He visibly shivers as he looks down at you. “Princess… you- we shouldn’t.” He warns.

You keep eye contact with his visor as you reach up and unbuckle his belt, slowly undoing his pants.

His breathing picks up and you tug down his pants and underwear to his thighs. He had beautifully tan skin, and Maker, a beautiful cock.

You’d fooled around with a couple guys before, but they had nothing on him. It was flushed red, throbbing between his legs.

You take hold of the base slowly, still looking up at him when you licked the underside, all the way up to his leaking tip.

He shuddered with pleasure, reaching forward to tuck some hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes and put your mouth all the way on him, sucking down what you can, stroking the rest with your hand.

“Fuck.” He curses through his modulator, hand resting gently on the crown of your head.

As you continued to blow him, you got more precum from him, loving the taste of it on your tongue. You look up at him once more, wet mouth full of his cock and that’s what gets him.

He cums down your throat, you swallowing as much as you can but some dribbles down your chin. He moans brokenly, similar to what you’d heard him doing earlier this morning.

He finishes pumping into your mouth and you pull off with a pop, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. He was panting as he looked down at you, broad shoulders heaving.

And then he’s quickly tucking himself back in and doing up his pants and belt. “I’ll grab breakfast.” He says shyly, slipping out of the room before you even get the chance to stand up.

You feel a little awkward when you finally do, sitting on the edge of your bed. Why’d he leave so suddenly?

You ran a hand down your face, afraid that he was instantly regretting it. He seemed to enjoy it well enough. You’d ask him later.

When he returned with food in about a half hour, you felt like you were crawling out of your skin. You stood up quickly.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask.

“What? Of course not.” He shakes his head.

“Then why did you leave like that?” You raise a brow.

“I…” he let a moment of silence pass. “I liked it more than I care to admit.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh.” You come to a realization when he says this. It’s not that he didn’t want you, he wanted you too much.

Okay, that was a turn-on. You felt yourself instantly get wet from this, wishing he was on top of you, inside you. You start to blush so you look away from him.

He sets the food on the table between the beds before heading toward the fresher. He closes the door behind him and you jump up, pulling your clothes off.

You needed him. You were throbbing for him, pussy pulsing and clenching in want. If this didn’t send the signal that you wanted him to want you? You don’t know what would.

You laid down on the bed, trying to get into a semi-alluring position. When the fresher door opened again, he gasped, standing there for a second.

“Told you earlier I was bored.” You laugh a little.

“Your parents would kill me.”

“Then they don’t need to find out.” You shrug at him, spreading your legs open for him to see your center.

“Fuck.” He whispers under his breath, helmet turned towards where you ache for him. You just smirk.

He hesitates, but finally gives in when your hand moves down between your legs. He removes his gloves and tosses them on the floor, getting onto your bed between your legs. His bare hands pushed your thighs further apart, groaning when he saw how wet you really were, lips glistening.

You pull your own hand away as he barely pushes his fingertips into you, sliding them up your slit. You whined, hips bucking slightly.

When his fingers reached your clit, he rubbed a couple circles into it before moving back down, pushing his middle finger into you.

You gasp and look down at him, his visor focused on your pussy and where his finger was inside you. He looked back up at your face for a moment. You know how red you can get when you’re riled up like this, and that only made you blush more.

His head moves back down as his thick digit slowly pulls out and pushes back in. You moaned, slowly breathing out to try and keep yourself semi under control.

He begins a pace in and out, before pushing a second finger inside, stretching you deliciously.

“You’re so tight, princess.” He groans, hooking his fingers in search of the special spot inside you.

It only took him a second to find it and it made you whimper, “Fuuck.”

“There it is.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

His fingers slid against it, then off, then back on, and fuck him for going so slow.

“Please, Mando.” You pant, eyebrows drawn together.

“Tell me what you want and maybe I’ll give it to you.” He breathes and you clench around his fingers.

“Faster. More. Please.” You practically beg him.

He hums as he pushes a third finger into you, keeping them all slightly curved as he thrusted. You were coming apart at the seams, legs quivering, toes curling, whining for him.

“Mando-“ you whimper, especially needy this time.

He speeds up and soon you’re moving your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers as he stretched you out. You could hear and feel how wet you were, knowing his hand was probably covered in your slick.

“I’m- I’m gonna- oh fuck.” You groan as your orgasm hits you like a train. You arch your back up, whining his name repeatedly as he keeps fingering you.

It’s only when he starts to slow down that you can form a coherent thought. “Felt so good…” you trail off and he pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bedspread.

“You’re so fucking hot when you cum.” He says seductively.

You whine in response, looking down at the tent in his pants. “Want you to cum. Cum on me.”

That punches the air out of his lungs and the next thing you know he’s pulling his dick out and stroking it, knees against the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck.” You sigh, staring down at his dick in his hand.

His breath got ragged as he kept going and he tilted his head back for a moment. You caught a peek at a sliver of his neck. He looked back down at you, moaning softly.

His strokes got faster until he whined and came, squirting it up your stomach and chest.

“Maker.” You breathe out, watching his hand milk his cock.

He slows down as he starts to get sensitive, stopping his hand after a moment. He takes a few deep breaths before getting off the bed and putting himself back into his pants. He leans into the fresher and grabs a wet rag, coming back to your bed to wipe off your torso.

“Thank you.” You smile up at him.

“No, uh- thank you.” He hums, he almost sounds embarrassed. Sheepish.

You didn’t think he’d be one to get all shy after sex, or, sexual activities. Maybe it’s because this was so new. You were so new. Did you fluster him?

You blink up at him, unsure what to say next. “Mhm.” You nod. “It was as fun as me as I hope it was for you.”

“Yes.” He says shortly and puts the tag back in the fresher somewhere.

He walks to his bed and sits down with a soft groan. Something someone of his approximate age and line of work would do. They face physical challenges every day, and if he was nearing 40 like you’d guessed, he’d probably have some aches and pains by now. It only just occurred to you that you have no clue how old he really is. But it didn’t matter much to you.

You get up and get dressed, getting on your bed facing the Mandalorian. You take the food from off the table between the beds and get into it.

You have a realization, looking up at him. “Wait, have you eaten the last couple days?”

“While you’re sleeping.” He explains.

“You don’t have to wait till I’m asleep. I’ll just sit in the fresher for a bit or turn away and keep my eyes closed.”

You could tell it’s not that he didn’t trust you in some capacity, but you know he lives a strict life and he’s probably just nervous about having someone conscious nearby when he takes his helmet off. You knew the Mandalorian rules. You’ve heard of some of them, anyways. The important ones, you’re pretty sure.

He hesitates. “Thank you. I’ll consider that.”

“Mhm.” You smile and eat your food, Mando getting up to turn on the television.

It was funny how quickly things had gone back to casual after your encounter with him. But it felt comfortable.

“I should go check in with Peli today about the ship.” He says after a little while.

“Okay.” You reply.

“Promise me you won’t sneak out.” He gets up between your two beds, facing you.

“Or what?” You tease.

He reaches forward and takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll have to punish you.”

Your expression relaxes and you bite your lip, stifling a moan.

He stares down at you for a long few moments before rubbing his thumb over your chin and cheek, pulling back. “See you soon.” He says devilishly, walking to the door and leaving.

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nicoforlifetrue · 12 days

Text

chapter three

read part two here

read it on ao3 here

and read it on tumblr below!

Getting into the shut-up cafe was shockingly easy; Green could only assume it was because fake-Second came here semi often. The front windows and door were boarded up, but there was a back window with a tarp over it that you could lift and slip inside. The broken down space had Second written all over it— somewhat literally, considering the sketched approximation of a cat that bound over and started purring against Red’s legs upon entry.

The entire space was filled with doodles, and was oddly clean for somewhere that was supposed to be condemned— a pile of real blankets and pillows covered in sketched cat fur sat in one corner, with a note written into the wall beside them claiming they were for “friends + Mia the shop cat”. Sketched vines crawled across the walls and ceiling, blossoming with black and white flowers. A cup sat on what used to probably function as the counter, a photoshop brush, a paint pencil, and various assorted animation tools sticking out of it, with an eraser carelessly thrown just beside it.

The few remaining tables were covered in sketches that didn't move, and as the group explored the space a woodpecker in Second’s distinct style fluttered down from the rafters and settled on one of them, head tilted as it watched everyone before flying over to a sketched jukebox and pecking at it until a soft classical melody floated through the space.

“Well, if he isn’t Second he’s damn good at pretending,” Green couldn't help but joke, and a few of the others chuckled before going back to the uncomfortable silence because they all knew the truth. Only Second could do this. He was the only one whose drawings came to life so easily— others had tried to replicate it, but that just hadn’t worked, the drawings would remain lifeless and still until Second added his own touch and willed it to come to life.

So either this other Second had been right, and they had somehow— what, changed universes? Or a person exactly like Second had somehow gained the power. Somehow both possibilities seemed equally unlikely, but with that poster Red found… well, there’s only so many options, and he's not entirely sure how cloning would work with the hollow heads. In fact, he doesn't even want to think of multiples of them running around the same world. Just Cho and Dark had done enough damage,, but if there were more of them?

He felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Well it’s time to play the waiting game,” he hummed with a clap of his hands, grinning at the worried faces of the group that quite quickly turned into a myriad of grins, Red grabbing a blanket and spreading it across the floor as everyone gathered into what was basically a circle.

No one pointed out they had left a space open for Second.

“Alright, inventory, what we got?” Green asked, already looking over his own. “I’ve got a full tool set, a half stack of note blocks, some string, and for some reason twenty sponges.”

“Half stack of most passive spawn eggs, twenty iron blocks, some wheat, full tool set, and a stack of leads,” Red shared next; Mia the shop cat made home in his lap with a disgruntled mew.

“Two stacks of netherwart, full tool set but no shield, enough potions to create god himself, and a stack of golden carrots,” Blue hummed, chewing on a piece of the aforementioned netherwart.

“The staff of course, two stacks of redstone, just my pickaxe, and a half stack of pistons,” Yellow basically waved off, having said staff out and fiddling with the command block inside with a concentrated expression. “You know I don’t carry much on me when I have it.”

“Just a couple stacks of fireworks and some steak, I didn’t think I’d be hanging out for too long,” Purple admits with a shrug, looking just a bit embarrassed.

“Well that works.. alright, so that's our supplies, we’re in a world where apparently Cho joined rocket really early on, Second doesn’t know us but is willing to help, and we know it’s Second because, well, obviously. And the only hint we have to what happened is a heat haze dome… dumbest theory wins, go!” As he says that he pulls out his phone and starts a timer, for five minutes— Purple, who’s seated next to him, looks extremely lost before Yellow speaks while still fiddling with the staff.

“Obviously Second’s father forgot to clean the heat sink and this is all just a very strange dream as we wait for him to wake up and fix this mess.” It’s spoken in his normal deadpan, the only thing giving away his participation a faint smirk. “That’s why it was a heat haze that did this, it’s quite literally scrambling our brains like an egg.”

“No, obviously this is Cho’s idea of a prank,” Blue cut in, leaning on Yellow with a grin. “Him and Second have been planning this for actual months, made an entire city on the drawing tablet just to mess with us— clearly they wanted something so ridiculous we’d only believe it if they really sold it, you know Cho, he doesn't do that silly thing called moderation.”

“Cho is the terrorist The Chosen One?” Purple whispers in his ear; he nods, watching them pale even further. “And Cho is Second’s brother?”

“Oh please you two,” Red scoffs, leaning back, arms crossed in faux superiority. “You’re fools if you don't think we haven't managed to simply successfully fall asleep in the nether! This is why it’s so dangerous, it connects you to the hivemind and shows you the impossible!”

“Yeah obviously, Alan makes them sturdy, duh,” Green whispers back, watching Blue gasp in false offense.

“Of course you'd go with the possessed option, don't you see you fool, Sec and Cho are finally getting back at you for the cake incident, the rest of us are in on it too!”

“He didn't use thermal paste on the heat sink, it’s hot glue,” Yellow quipped, grin growing at the conjoined rebuttal. “I’m just saying, he built the PC on his own this time, perhaps we should have stayed in the harddrive a bit longer.”

Green can’t help but smile when he hears Purple giggle under his breath— the waiting game was something from back before Second had freed them, a way to pass the time while waiting for something new to happen. First you take stock of your surroundings, then make a scenario out of those surroundings! It used to be about what the users were doing, or about the last stick to pass through their home…

And now it’s about their current situation— five minutes to come up with the stupidest, most unbelievable, but still somewhat logical, course of events that could lead them here. The last bit had to be tacked on after the color monster bit went on for Eight. Hours.

…They had been very bored before Second came along.

“Nope, Blue just left the potion maker running until the potion turned to steam and now we’re here,” Purple finally added, giggling even more when horrified “NO”s turned onto them. Red wins the first round, after pulling out the idea that the reason everything was extra weird was because the piglin tribe Blue had befriended were attempting to treat them with mushrooms, obviously making things significantly worse.

It goes on like that for hours— new, impossibly dumber situations being pulled for various other things, like why Blue had enough netherwart to not eat in a millisecond, or why the only one without a full tool set was Yellow, before finally they end up just chatting, timer forgotten, musing about this world’s version of people.

“Think Minecraft actually got destroyed this time? Or like, did Cho stop him?” Red hums, gesturing at the ceiling. “Or did you like, stop him on your own, Purp?”

“Eh, probably on my own, we can still use craft stuff here so it’s gotta exist, right?” Green’s being used as a pillow, Purple’s cheek squishing into his back as the stick’s wings flex sleepily. “Speaking of Cho, what happened to his partner in crime, that red hollow?”

“Ugh, Dark,” Blue huffs with a shiver, nods spreading throughout the group in agreement with the noise. “If we’re lucky? Dead. If we’re not? Highly injured but still a threat, and we’re screwed.”

“Well then, consider yourselves properly fucked,” a voice growls from above them, so familiar and horrifying it has Green leaping to his feet with weapons out in less than a second, the others all doing the same as they look up— bright red glowing eyes that match Chosen’s twinkle down at them from the darkness of the rafters, and light catches on a sharp-toothed grin just before he jumps down, form revealed in the soft light of the diner.

“Hello children,” The Dark Lord purrs, “miss me?~”

#plot swap au #animation vs animator #ava dark lord #ava purple #ava red #ava #avm green #avm red #avm #animation vs minecraft #alan becker

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

Note

For the fic sentence thing, I thought of these sentences for different characters (you don't have to do all of them of course, I wanted to give you a choice and also not flood your inbox more than I already have 😅 I hope that's ok. Though if it isn't, you can just ignore this)

Norman Nordstrom

He found it amusing when you, gently, ordered him to sit down while you made tonight's dinner, as if he hadn't been living on his own and caring for himself all these years.

Freddy Krueger

You were just walking down the halls of the very familiar boiler room, an amused smile on your face as you felt the air behind you shift erratically, right where you knew that Freddy was 'sneaking' behind you.

Jennifer Check

"Are you sure I need all this?" You asked as your friend added more cosmetics to the shopping basket, "I don't wear makeup that often anyway... Wait, are you using this as an excuse to shop for your own makeup?"

Inkubus

You did find him pleasant company, really! Even if he did look at you... That way... But it's not like he was anything more than a charming- albeit way too smooth- guy you knew.

Slenderman:

"You stress yourself too much." You state- not in a playful tone that would imply you had other things in mind, but a genuinely concerned and slightly frustrated tone, "C'mon, let's get a cup of tea, or take a walk through your forest. You love your forest!"

Chick Hicks (Human)

"Wow, your car is pretty impressive." You commented with a smirk, before leaning against the front of the car foxily, "Do you use it for just the races, or can you make use of it on your downtime too~?"

Randall (monster or human, you decide)

'Really? He has to bother me on my lunch break too?' You thought while rolling your eyes once Randall approached you.

Psycho Weasel (human or toon, you decide)

Everytime without fail, whenever his friends managed to 'bring' you here, those crazy eyes of his would follow your form no matter where you went.

Cruella De Vil

She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard that song- the only successful song Anita's spouse had managed to write, that was about her- and you singing along with it on the radio.

Ok I better stop here. Holy moly, it was harder than I thought to configure 1 sentence for a whole narrative XD

But anyways, even if you don't write these (which is totally fine!) I hope you at least got a kick out of these sentences ^^

These are great sentences XDD Much better then the ones I added!! 🤣🤣🤣 Thank you so much, these are fantastic prompts to work with!! I did them all- because- I couldn't resist XD

Also most of these exceed the sentence limit by one or two 😅Sorryy...

As if he hadn't been living on his own and caring for himself all these years. With Norman Nordstrom

He found it amusing when you, gently, ordered him to sit down while you made tonight's dinner, as if he hadn't been living on his own and caring for himself all these years.

So he did not sit down, he instead followed your footsteps into the kitchen- so silently, apparently, that you did not hear him. You jumped under his touch when he found you at the stove, and wrapped his arms around your middle; Tucking his chin over the top of one of and watching unseeingly, silently, over one of your shoulders.

You quickly relax under Norman's familiar, strong touch though, and feel the warm and fuzzies envelope you just like his arms that you know perfectly well could hurt you so easily- but instead make you feel safe. With a gentle smile, you just continue to cook the steaks and the broccoli, listening to the sizzling sounds with him and relaxing against his warm body until they're good and cooked, and you turn your head to whisper to him how its done and he can wait at the table if he wants.

"No," he just says, gruffly, turning stubbornly to collect plates and cutlery for the both of you. "Not leaving."

Right where you knew Freddy was 'sneaking' behind you. With Freddy Krueger

What is he doing??? you ask yourself, exasperated and bemused at your doofus' antics and almost tempted to ignore him- he's been hiding from you for hours, only giving you a sense that he's near every now and then to keep you on your toes as you wander the maze of a boiler room... just like this. You shouldn't turn around- you shouldn't play right into his hands- his games... but god damn it, you cant help it!!

"Fredd- oh for fucks sake, get your burnt ass outta the shadows, I am not gonna fall for this again you toothpick-fingered, melted-cheese-face looking- "You're just building up to call him a bitch, when you turn back in the direction you were walking again and come face to face with the smug, smirking bitch. It takes your breath away, surprised at the sudden appearance. "- Oh."

"Yeah,... oh."

Wait, are you using this as an excuse to shop for your own makeup? With Jennifer Check

"Needy, am I using this as an excuse to shop for my own makeup?" Jennifer asks, not even paying a whole lot of attention to your concerns, even as she picks up your hand and draws a cute little heart on it with a tube of tester lipstick.

Needy, the one pushing the trolley, gives a tight smile, a tired sigh, and a blunt nod to you as you stand there with your hand stuck in Jennifer's grip.. "Yeah, she is."

"... oh you bitch- You do not get to share our curly fries when we hit the food court."

Even if he did look at you... That way... With Inkubus

You did find him pleasant company, really! Even if he did look at you... That way... But it's not like he was anything more than a charming- albeit way too smooth- guy you knew.

... right?, you think, looking hopefully at the little adorable koi fish in the pond you're kneeling next to; awaiting guidance from them. "I mean- I'm too busy for a guy," You whisper this part out loud followed by a very nervous chuckle, sprinkling a few food pellets to the fish as offerings. "So... I can just ignore this- him- cant I?? Surely... "

Feeling crazy, talking to koi, you give a frustrated sigh and lay down in the grass beneath you by the pond; Closing your eyes and trying to clear your mind of thoughts... about him... him... aghhh!

Little do you know, of course, Inkubus is there right then, with you- leaning against the side of a tree just out of sight, and thinking how abominably adorable you are... thinking you could ignore him.

C'mon, let's get a cup of tea, or take a walk through your forest. with Slenderman

"I don't have time for a cup of tea," he snaps back, the tentacles on his back practically flying they flick around so much; The irritation clear in his body language. "I have some teenagers to kill."

"You wont kill Jeff and Liu... they're too valuable as manual labour- you need them."

"Oh no I don't- I have you."

The way your jaw absolutely drops, at that, causes Slender to stop his flicking for a moment - if only a moment, - and release a sound somewhere akin to a low, staticky, inhuman chuckle.

Foxily. With Chick Hicks This is a prequal to his section in This Smexcerpts post.

"I can use this whenever I want! Why, baby?" Chick swaggers up to you, setting his feet on either side of yours so his body is right up against yours and he's looking down at you; a mischievous look on the older racer's face that just matches the twinkle in yours, "Didja have an offer for me?"

You know this is probably not a good idea - Chick Hicks does not have the best reputation, and he seems to act just like how the tabloids show him, unlike the other racer's you've met today, - , that you should just finish flirting with him and leave it at that- let that be the story you tell when you're searching for bragging rights... But his warm body against yours sets you alight and you desperately want this man, now; Any way that he'll have you... take you... use you.

So, flashing a dangerous smirk, you slither your arms up over his chest to link around the nape of his neck, playing with the short, brown hair there. "Hm, no~... Do you have any for me?"

He has to bother me on my lunch break too? With Randall Boggs *Note- This one is linked up to This set of Dark Drabbles. I feel like that may be what you were going for??? I dunno, but there it is, now XDD 😅

'Really? He has to bother me on my lunch break too?' You thought while rolling your eyes once Randall approached you.

Ugh... Pouting, and feeling sick to your stomach now because he's back and he's taking your hand in his as he sits down next to you, and he's so close... you can feel his breath on your face as you huph and lower your lunch; Defeated. "Do we have to do this now?? I really wanted to enjoy this rot dog... "

He gives a chuckle, eyes flickering to the paperwork in front of you that you were gonna do while you ate- like he's entitled to know what you're up to- like you're truly in a relationship with eachother. "Sweetheart this is lunch, this is exactly when I'm gonna get cosy with you- get used to it, and maybe eat when you get home if I really turn you off your lunch... "

Eyes downcast, you cringe in on yourself, away from him. "... I want you to leave me alone, Randall... "

"That's not going to happen, doll, so keep quiet and give me a smile~ "

Those crazy eyes of his would follow your form no matter where you went. With Psycho Weasel

Every time without fail, whenever his friends managed to 'bring' you here, those crazy eyes of his would follow your form no matter where you went.

Greasy disgusted you- he would take great pleasure in being the one to hold you down while one of the others tied you up; With the canvas bag over your head you couldn't really see whoever it was touching you... but Greasy had his calling cards, including wandering hands and groping.

Smartass hurt you ears, yelling at you, and yelling at the others too.

Then Stupid was a real problem- once he got a hold of you, you were not getting away.

Wheezy stank, and if you ever got lung cancer you would blame him, but to be truthful he never really went near you- his problem was staring, those slate grey eyes would make you feel cold just feeling them on you... but still, they were nothing compared to Psycho.

He was the one you worried about, the one that caught your attention; the way he looked at you, but never ever came close to you, was different... you kind of wanted him to come near.

The only successful song Anita's spouse had managed to write, that was about her. With Cruella De Vil

She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard that song- the only successful song Anita's spouse had managed to write, that was about her- and you singing along with it on the radio.

When you turned to look over your shoulder and see Cruella standing in the kitchen doorway, the words to the song die on your tongue- your hands no longer washing dishes. Quickly though you switch that shocked look on your face in with an awkward, yet smug grin; Giving a jaunty little shrug. "Its catchy- and so true."

For a good moment, she just sneers at you; Looking like she's about to snap for your insolence in her own home... then her eyes disappear up into the back of her skull in that cool, intense way you love- quite used to your insolence (Sometimes, its a good thing after all). "Whatever- I'm just too busy to worry about the influence Rufus' dumb little tune might have right now-- Did my package arrive at all, today, or do I need to pay that postal office a visit?"

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nativestarwrites · 2 months

Note

How did you get the idea for your former big bang fic? Anything you want to share about it?

Thank you for the question! I love this wip and I've neglected it far too much! I started thinking about this a few weeks after I got into Ted Lasso last year, it doesn't feel that long ago but apparently it was in June! So I'm a little sketchy on the exact origin but I remember I wanted to write something that dealt with the scene in the finale with his father in a less superficial way.

The fic is more or less built around this line by James in my version of that rehab meeting.

"‘They won’t want you when you’re no longer their star player. I’ll always be your dad, but your team won’t be when you’re not playing anymore.”

And a series of events make Jamie start to think there's a kernel of truth to that as the new season starts. Things get worse, and there's some reasons why Jamie doesn't share how he's feeling with the team, but when they find out he learns he has value beyond being the star player and he's still their friend even if he never kicks a winning goal again.

It's sitting at just over 10k but I haven't looked at it for months because When Darkness Falls took over most of my writing time but I do want to go back to it. I think my outlining skills have improved from working on When Darkness Falls so I'd like to see what I can do with it with fresh eyes.

I've put a snip of one of my favourite scene behind the cut, it's just after Jamie's visited his dad right at the start.

He stands in the bright sunshine, flexing his hands compulsively, he doesn’t quite know what to do with them, doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, and he thrusts his fists into his pockets where he feels the warm plastic fob of his car keys inside the pocket. Car. Right. Time to make the long journey back home he guesses, there’s nothing worth sticking around for here.

Except, somehow there’s someone leaning against his car and he must be seeing things because its a very familiar silhouette and he only knows one person daft enough to wear all black and a leather jacket on a hot day like today but it most definitely looks like none other than Roy Kent leaning against his car.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” Roy answers. Like they’re in Nelson Road’s car park instead of one that’s a three hour drive away.

“Thought you didn’t agree with me going to see my dad.”

“I didn’t. I don’t. Doesn’t mean I was going to let you do it by yourself though.” Roy pauses and Jamie makes an effort to unclench his hands and relax his shoulders even though there’s every chance that Roy’s already noticed the tension he’s carrying. “How’d it go?”

Jamie shrugs a shoulder. “Dunno what I was expecting.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

This time Roy’s the one relaxing. There’s something about the familiarity of Roy not wanting to talk about emotions that’s actually really fucking comforting to Jamie and his gut unclenches slightly. If there’s one person he can rely on to not make him talk about his emotions it’s Roy.

“You hungry?” Roy asks.

Jamie raises a shoulder in a shrug. Breakfast had been a long time ago and the protein bar he’d had on the way up here hadn’t done much, but he still doesn’t really feel like eating, it’s more a sense that he should eat.

“Good.” Roy replies as if Jamie’s actually given him an answer. “There’s a decent steak place not far from here according to Google.”

“Whatever.”

“Gimme your keys.” Roy orders reaching out a hand with an impatient wiggle.

Jamie mutters control freak under his breath even as he throws the keys to Roy. He’d complain about it more except he really doesn’t fancy driving right now, doesn’t really trust himself behind the wheel if he’s being honest. He didn’t sleep well last night and he feels like its all deciding right now is the time for it to catch up with him.

“Wait, how’d you get here?” He asks as his head swivels around, looking for the black G-Wagon and finding nothing in sight. “Did you—?” But Jamie can’t finish, because the idea that Roy Kent took public transport to get here simply so he could drive Jamie home is too bizarre a thought to say out loud. Roy evidently agrees because he just growls sightly.

“Stop gawping and get in the fucking car."

#ask answered #I need a better title than 'former big bang' or 'post-series wip'#Jamie Tartt #Roy Kent

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sakusafilm · 2 years

Text

the way i loved you — miya atsumu

it's 2am and you're cursing atsumu's name, and you're so in love that you act insane.

atsumu x fem!reader, bokuto x fem!reader, love triangle (lol), cursing, fuck buddies, mentions of sex but nothing smut (just for the sake of the fuck buddies narrative), angst (?)

haikyuu boys as taylor swift songs masterlist

there are really just some people... who are hard to forget.

and we will never understand why... even after the toxicity, the mixed signals, the chaos— it's still gonna be that person whom we want to see when we go home. we are always willing to compromise, to ask for an apology for something we never did... as long as they are here. as long as it's them.

“thanks for tonight, kotaro.”

bokuto kotaro is a gentleman. opposite of his funny facade, you had a very intelligent talk with him. he talked about science, and you loved it because, well, you love science too. every now and then, he would throw jokes and sometimes, he's effortlessly funny as he interacts with almost everyone he sees.

you enjoyed the date, long story short. the steak was great. the view from the skytree was breathtaking. your date was dashing, you're envied by every woman who saw. it was a night well spent and a second time isn't impossible, so you agreed. you agreed when bokuto asked you if wanted to spend time with him in universal studios osaka.

you were so confident when you nodded at him, with a huge smile on your face. planning out your first itinerary which would be the attack on titan themed park and that stupidly expensive levi ackerman popcorn holder. but once you entered your apartment, dimmed lights and emptiness welcomes you again.

you sat down on the couch quietly, removing your heels and finally letting your feet rest. you feel like passing out in the couch already, yet you never realized how tired you were outside. and this is exactly why you hate being alone. it makes you tired. it's not just being alone, you feel lonely.

you shut your eyes and cursed the air.

fuck you.

fuck you, atsumu miya.

you went out today, meeting a good man who seems so willing to give you the best and then you come home and remember that jerk once again. it's insanity. it's insanity how you allowed him to claim parts of you that no one could ever know. it's insanity how you remember him even in your own home, when he probably doesn't give a fuck about you anymore the moment he walked out last month.

he won't give a fuck. you know.

in his own words, you're just my fuck buddy.

nothing more, nothing less. that's how he sees you. a person of convenience. he will kiss you when he wants to and will drop you when he's done. you're nothing to him. what's worse is you know that you will be discarded sooner or later, and still you're out here, having a hard time forgetting about that man.

in your defense, you didn't know that it would happen. when you agreed to atsumu, you also just agreed because of sex.

you hated his guts, that's why you were so confident that you won't fall in love with him. he's arrogant and egoistic. a lot of times, he thinks that he's the best in the world. he wants people to meet his standards. he was the annoying twin brother between him and osamu miya. he's obsessed with volleyball. he's always shouting.

but atsumu miya... is apparently more than that. he took care of you too—brought you medicines when you're on your period, brought you homemade food and ate dinner with you whenever you're sad. he will throw jokes from time to time, and he would laugh even before throwing it. he loves to color his hair in blonde, blue or even ash gray.

whenever he caresses you, he's always gentle. taking his time, as if you were the most beautiful girl in the world. he would shower you compliments. he would kiss your forehead. intertwining your fingers onto him.

whenever you're skin-to-skin with him, it always felt right. like he's a missing puzzle, like he fits perfectly with you.

you were confused. you don't know if it's just you romanticizing the thought of him, or it's really him trying to be romantic. you got an answer early, though. it was all a lie. or maybe, you were just delusional that you thought atsumu miya likes you.

you opened your eyes and lazily stood up from the couch when someone knocked, combing your long black hair with your fingers and fixing the tight body hugging black dress you wore tonight.

you slowly opened the door, thinking it's just the old lady next door who loves giving you side dishes. but a yellow haired boy stunned you.

wearing a black hoodie from his team, hair is down the his usual styling. hands inside the pocket of his black jeans, atsumu miya returned to you. you can't help but scoff, looking at him from head to toe. you're trying to insult him, but atsumu doesn't allow people to get to him. he doesn't care. he has a thick face. that's exactly why after everything, he still came back.

he looked at you from head to toe as well, “went somewhere?”

“yeah, i came from a date and i'm tired and i don't have the time and luxury to talk with you so fuck off and leave me alone.” you're about to shut the door but atsumu stopped it with his hand, “atsumu, i swear to god.”

“i'm sorry, baby.”

this man. you hate him so much for this. but you hate yourself even more. you hate yourself when your heart fluttered when he started calling you that common ass endearment once again. you hate how easy it is for you to soften when it comes to him.

“let me guess, the sex isn't good.” you scoffed, “i don't want to see you anymore, atsumu.”

“i'm really sorry, baby—” it took so much courage for you to slam the door in front of his face. guilt immediately rushing down through your system after what you did. and you hate that because you should never feel bad at all.

that man insulted you and made you feel like a trash. he's probably just coming back because the new girl cannot stand him anymore.

atsumu can be quite demanding and dominant. he loves to go to random late night drives, waking you up in the middle of the night and pulling you out of your bed with your pajamas on. he loves to buy shoes, so when he does that, he will also make sure to buy you one even if you don't need it. he loves taking you out to dinner dates, giving your bouquet of flowers every damn time that it almost made your apartment a flowershop this one time that he consistently did it. he will do whatever the fuck he wants. he doesn't need anyone's opinion, so you know that it's also not that easy for him to get along with so many people.

yet you were full of consideration and you understood him.

but that's over now... right? right?

“do you have a schedule later?” the next day, bokuto went to the library with you to study. something atsumu and you never did before, you never asked him because you know that he will not love the idea anyway. but here's bokuto, doing simple study dates. less extravagant, but calmer.

“later? none. if i can finish everything right now.” you chuckled, “why?”

“uh...” bokuto hesitated.

“spill it out.” you told him, he chuckled.

“i'm just not sure if you're comfortable going to this like this... but a friend of mine is celebrating his birthday and they're having an open house party later. anyone could go, so...” he smiled at you.

“i don't go to many parties but i could make time, kotaro.” you smiled.

“oh no! you don't have to if you're not comfy, __!” he scratched his nape, “you don't have to force yourself—”

you chuckled, “it's really okay. i also want to have fun.”

bokuto bit his lower lip, trying to stop himself from smiling like an idiot, “well then, i'll fetch you, later?”

you nodded, “sure thing.”

you genuinely enjoy bokuto's company. he has a good sense of humor and is very respectful to you. very opposite of atsumu's unfunny sense of humor and disrespect.

it's been a while since you last went to a house party, or just a party in general. you are scared to see atsumu again. you know he's the type of person to go to every party in town. but since the night he went to see you again, you became pretty confident. you won't take him back, but you would love to see atsumu miya beg. if you ever see him tonight, you won't back down and falter.

you wore a simple white skirt and white tank top, partnered with white balenciaga heels and accessories.

kotaro: what're u wearing?

you: why 🤨

kotaro: so we could match

you were thrilled. you sent a picture of your outfit for the night to him and when you saw him pulling a black and white attire, just perfectly matching your outfit— you felt butterflies floating in your stomach.

atsumu could never. he will be too ashamed to do this, especially with someone who is just a fuck machine to him. this will make him cringe.

“you look beautiful,” you smiled at bokuto while pitying yourself. you never heard that from atsumu in random days. he can only say that to you after you reached your high during sex. he can never whisper that to you during a drive, in the morning after he wakes up, at the library because he never went with you there.

the celebrant's house is huge. they even have a swimming pool, already packed by people you don't know so you have to remind youself to not swim tonight. it's too crowded. bokuto greeted a lot of people and all of them asked about you too.

“i'm courting her,” is all that bokuto could answer in behalf of you.

courting. you really don't believe in the idea of it. before, it just seems like another way to love bomb someone. but tonight, it felt like a compliment. it felt just right. bokuto is charming and endearing, he makes you so comfortable.

“bokuto kotaro, huh?”

in the middle of the party, you tried to search for a comfort room and parted for a bit with bokuto. and while walking through the hallways, you finally saw him.

you tried to snob him, but atsumu reached for your wrist lightly to stop you. you flinch at his touch. it suddenly feels so cold. across the hallway, you can see the time: 2am. once again.

“can you just... listen? you don't have to speak, just listen to me.” it is an understatement to say that you were shocked that he has a calm voice. he sounds different, far from the atsumu you know.

“i'm sorry.” he says, “i don't have an excuse. i was mad and i told all of that to you irresponsibly. i'm really really sorry.”

you don't know what to say because for the first time, you feel like this is a genuine apology from him. your eyes started stinging just by the thought of atsumu lowering his pride for you. you told yourself that you won't falter, that you won't back down, but the only thing you want to do right now is to pull him into a tight hug again.

“i'm really really sorry—”

“i hate you,” you looked at him. atsumu dropped his hand and caught your eyes. he nodded, as if he's already accepting that, “i hate you so much, miya.”

“i know...” he answered.

“i hate how lowly you think of me. i am not your fuck toy. i am not someone that you can just discard when you're done. you're still here, because i allow you, not because you're that great and i don't have the fucking choice!” i told him. he nodded again, “i hate how you don't call me beautiful in random days, i hate how i cannot do matching outfits with you, i hate your corny jokes, i hate your reckless ass, i hate you how you just pull me to bed for a late night drive when i am still in my pajamas. atsumu miya—”

atsumu leaned, giving you a quick kiss. caughting you off guard. it tasted like mint and alcohol. you still remember, you never forgot even for a millisecond. it tasted like toxin that you're willing to take. atsumu miya is a poison to you.

“then i'll do it.” he said, catching his breath as if he's nervous, “i'll match your outfits. i'll be a gentleman. i'll study with you. i'll be funnier. i'll ask you first, your opinions, your thoughts. every fucking thing, baby.”

your lips parted, “you're just drunk, aren't you?”

“kinda wish i am.” he answered, “but i am very much sober tonight.”

“how could you do all of that with your fuck buddy?” you scoffed.

“what the fuck is love? i am still not sure.” he answered, “but when you started making my heart race, when i felt like i fucking want to intertwine my hands to yours every damn time, it scared the fuck out of me. i am a coward, i know. i told you those words because i can't believe that it's actually happening, it sounds lame to me. it sounds uncool and you know how obsessed i am to look cool all the damn time."

you watched how he ranted his frustrations.

“you look beautiful every damn second i see you. you make me want to do the cringiest things, all the corny stuff. you make me want to compromise. to understand. to face my feelings. to stay." atsumu says, “baby,”

it overwhelmed you but you understood how it must be so overwhelming for him too. a boy who doesn't take anything seriously, suddenly feeling a rush of emotion washing through him. an unfamiliar feeling at that.

you are not expert to things like this too. so you chuckled at him. you laughed as he stared at you.

“fool.” you remarked, “do you think i am used to this? do you think that i know better than you about falling in love? i agreed to our set up because i don't want to waste my time hurting for a relationship. and still, i ended up... like that.”

your eyes met his, “baby,”

“bokuto is amazing, you know. he compliments me. he's charming, endearing. he's sensible. everyone wants to be me whenever i'm with him.” you said.

atsumu's eyebrows furrowed at you, “do i look like i care?”

and then you said, “but he's not you.”

slowly, his expression changed. he scoffed and chuckled.

“goddamn, miya, i missed screaming at you, talking and fighting with you all the damn time.” you said, “it's fucking insane. you're insane.”

”we both are.” atsumu says, pulling you close, “the way we love each other is insane... like a rollercoaster rush.”

he's right. and he's the only one you'll love the way you do.

insane.

—

come here bokuto ☹️

#haikyuu!!#atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #msby atsumu #inarizaki #atsumu x you #atsumu angst #miya twins #miya twins au #miya twins x reader #fubu!atsumu #atsumu fluff #atsumu fanfic #haikyuu au #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader

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ceilingfrogs · 4 months

Text

(Based on this prompt)

“You taste like how wet dogs smell,” Chiara complained, retching into the pink bucket they usually reserved for cleaning. She was sitting her coffin, head close to disappearing within the bucket so as to avoid any unwanted spillage. The satin lining her coffin was a bitch to clean after all.

“OK. First, rude. Second, that makes no fucking sense,” Devin said, standing in the doorway of the dark room, his large bulk blocking out most of the light from the hallway, the smell emanating from the bucket keeping him well away.

“You gave me food poisoning!” She hissed at him, fangs extended, eyes blood red.

“You tried to eat me!” Devin squawked back, hands raised in exasperation.

“I only wanted a snack,” Chiara moaned in between retches.

“That’s what the blood bags are for.”

“But they never taste as nice,” she spat out the last of her bile into the bucket. Amazing how much vomit such a small person can expel. “It’s not like I would have killed you,” and then under her breath, “Maybe.”

“Heard that.”

“Stupid werewolf hearing,” she muttered to herself and, subsequently, to the werewolf.

“No,” Devin said, “You’re just a terrible whisperer.”

Chiara hissed again, fangs gleaming under what little of the hallway light managed to sneak past Devin’s mass.

Devin was unimpressed. It’s hard to be intimidated by a vampire cowering her coffin because she’s got a bit of a tummy ache.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” Chiara said, making sure to infuse as much betrayal in her voice as she could.

“Honestly, I thought you knew. I mean, what the fuck do you think I was doing every full moon?”

“I don’t know. I just thought you were PMSing or something.”

“PMSing?” Devin asked, more bewildered than exasperated now.

“Some people’s cycles can get very violent,” Chiara said defensively.

“I don’t think going into the woods to slaughter innocent rabbits to satiate one’s bloodlust is a very common symptom of PMS.”

“Goes to show how much you know,” Chiara huffed and finally done retching, placed the pink bucket on her coffin-side table.

She bundled herself up under layers and layers of deep red blankets, not dissimilar in colour to the blood red satin of her black, ornate coffin which paired nicely with the red and black floral wallpaper. Chiara had a theme and she stuck with it admirably.

“Though that would explain all the raw steaks you consume,” Chiara said, after a moment’s reflection, “And your hatred of the postman.”

“Maybe if Rony were better at his job, I wouldn’t need to hate him.”

Chiara sat up suddenly, dozens of blankets pooling into her lap.

“Wait. Are you the one who’s been digging holes in the garden?”

Devin thought about defending himself, thought about outright lying, but he’d never been very good at that, “I needed somewhere to bury all my bones,” he finally admitted.

“You arsehole! You blamed it on the neighbour’s pomeranian.”

“Sprinkles is hardly innocent; she is an equal participant in the excavation work.”

Chiara was about to retort before she leaned over the coffin, only just managing to get her head over the bucket in time for more fluid to spew out of her mouth.

She groaned as dramatically as she could in her state, and threw her covers over herself, burrowing into the fabric until there was nothing but her deep red eyes and a thin sliver of her pale face—paler than usual—peaking out.

Devin did feel a bit bad about the whole thing, mostly because Chiara was looking especially pathetic and especially small in her oversized coffin (she needed the XL coffin because, apparently, she liked to stretch out during her slumber; Devin thought she just liked to be ostentatious).

“Why don’t I go and find you a nice human you can eat? Would that make you feel better?” Devin asked.

“It might,” she said, her voice muffled. She peered out from underneath the blanket. “Could you get me a type O+?”

“Okay. Type O+.”

“And a virgin?” She asked, pushing her luck.

“Alright, a virgin,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

He turned away and made to close to the door only to stop when her small voice emanated once again from the pile of blankets.

“Could you clean the bucket before you go?”

“Of course,” Devin stepped into the room, breathing through his mouth.

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blackroseguzzi · 1 year

Text

Woosah Baby : Part 4

Summery: awkward dinners & ultrasounds

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, mention of drugs and alcohol, language

Warrens POV

I watched as my mom placed a cube steak onto y/n’s plate. I could tell by her face that she was holding back the need to gag. After she left for work this morning I decided it was due diligence to read up on pregnancy symptoms. Apparently, yakking was completely normal.

It’s wild how little I knew about how a human comes into existence. It was gross and fascinating all at the same time.

“Y/n, how’s your mom doing?’ I watched my dad shove a piece of potato into his mouth and he chewed loudly.

“Well, I think she’s gone from drinking two bottles of whiskey a day down to one, so I’d say she’s doing well,” she laughed to herself as she pushed the food around on her plate. I knew she tried to pretend her mother’s alcoholic issues were a mere nuisance, but in reality it really bothered her. I know Y/n would never turn out like her mother, but I could tell it was something that ate at her.

My mom was still not at the table. Y/n’s eyes burnt into mine as if she was telling me to just come out and ask to talk with them. I cleared my throat.

Dad.. I,”

“Coach says you’ve missed a few practices Warren, what’s up with that?” My fathers disapproving look made me slouch in my chair. He really knew how to remind me of my dumb-fuckery.

“I know, I’ll do better,” lying to my father had been something I’ve been good at my whole life.

Yes sir, I love soccer. Yes father, I’m sober. No way am I selling drugs to my high school classmates, Dad.

“You know how important that scholarship is for your future,” my father looked between y/n and I before smiling.

“I can’t believe how long my son has been able to keep you around, Y/N.” He nudged my arm as if to say he was joking but I knew he was fucking bewildered that a girl like y/n would be into me… and stay with me for as long as she had. I had a flashback of the blonde chick I kissed at the party last night and got a pain of guilt. I wasn’t perfect, but I wanted to be for Y/n and our baby.

“Warren and I actually wanted to talk to you and Laura about something,” She looked around to see if my mom was anywhere in sight but she was off in the kitchen banging around some pots and pans. Suddenly a loud crash rang out.

“Jesus, mom you alright?” She stomped out in front of us, demanding to talk to Dad. What the hell was she so fidgety about? Did she know that Y/n was pregnant? I swallowed the thick spit forming in my mouth.

“Really, now Laura? I’m trying to have dinner with the kids and they want to talk to us,” Warren shot his wife a worrisome look.

“No now,” she stormed off again. I was getting anxious and I could tell that y/n was starting to feel uncomfortable. My parents fight, but they never did around y/n. I guess she really was just integrated into our family now.

My dad held up his finger, saying he would be back on a moment. He disappeared into the hallway towards the living room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Y/n leaned over her plate and gave me a confused look.

“They probably found weed in my pillowcase again or they’re fighting about who forgot to record the last episode of survivor,” I was trying my best to ease both our minds. We both just wanted to break the news fast.

“When we get out of here we’ll get you some Nausea meds and a milkshake. I read that morning sickness can last all day during the first trimester, “ I flashed a smile at her and she stared at me like I was some kind of mutated freak.

“Who are you, and what have you done to my Warren?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. She clearly wasn’t used to me reading, let alone about pregnancy symptoms. I just wanted her to know I was peeling back some vulnerable pieces I needed to show her in order for her to trust that I was going to take care of her and this baby.

“I’m just trying to help,” I replied. I stuffed my face with more food until my dad sat back down looking somber. I pushed the basket of rolls over towards him- bread usually helps.

He smiled sheepishly as he took one.

“So Dad, we have something…”

My mom walked towards us and placed her small hand in my shoulder. I took a deep breath about to continue, but her voice rang out before mine.

“I’m divorcing your father.”

Clang. I shot a look to y/n. She had dropped her fork against the porcelain plate. She embarrassingly picked it back up and looked at me. I could see how saddened she was for me. Did my face show any emotions? I couldn’t tell. I watched both my parents angrily storm out of the room.

“What the fuck?” I whispered. I could hear my mom making more noise upstairs. Was she fucking packing?

I got up from the table, where y/n still sat in silence. I have had some awkward encounters at her house, like the time I had to lift her mom off the toilet and into her bedroom after a night of binge drinking- but she had never had that kind of experience at my family’s home. She looked up to my parents relationship as have I. I mean if they could last 34 plus years than we could last that long as well. Except here we are both shattered by news that nothing in this world fucking lasts.

I walked over to the glass slider where my dad had escaped to, I could hear faint sobs and he was bent over.

“Are you crying?” I stared at him through the door.

“Warren lets just go,” y/n’s soft voice rang out from the table. I ignored her.

I banged at the door “ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING?”

Y/N POV

The weekend went by slower than I would have liked. After the news about Warren’s parent’s divorce, Warren was acting different. He had come to visit me at work on Sunday afternoon but was being really secretive with Spencer. I tried not to think much of it, but it bothered me. What was he hiding from me? He never hides anything from me. As soon as I had walked over towards the two of them Warren hit Spencer’s shoulder and they both completely shut up. Was Warren that stupid that I wouldn’t have caught on?

I called at 7am on Monday before my class about the ultrasound. They had a cancellation and asked if I wanted to come in that afternoon. Warren had been sleeping at my apartment all weekend and by the vibe I was getting after the news drop at dinner, I don’t think he planned on going back there.

I didn’t know if he had practice this afternoon, but he was more than likely to skip it anyway so I decided to take the appointment and email my Woman’s studies professor that I was sick. I think I had enough knowledge under my belt about the study of women anyway.

Warren and I drove in silence to the appointment. I don’t think it was out of anything but fear. I wanted to bring up the fact he was being weird with Spencer at the market, but I didn’t want to start something I most likely couldn’t finish before we got to the doctors office.

“I’m the only dude in this place,” Warren leaned over and whispered to me. I slapped his arm. This was a gynecologists office, what did he expect. I’m sure a lot of expecting dads came to appointments but today just wasn’t one of those days. “Also, I wonder why that old lady is here?” I smacked him again.

“This isn’t just a place for pregnant woman Warren,” I whispered back, my eyes wide as to let him know to shut up and that the entire waiting room could hear him. God, he had the loudest whisper voice on the planet.

A female nurse came out and called my name. I grabbed Warren’s hand and he laced his fingers into mine and we walked into the back of the office. The nurse led me to the ultrasound room that was much larger than the room I had been in on Friday. There was a chair that looked like a hospital bed laying in the middle. Lots of pictures painted the walls, lots of photos of babies inside the womb and one of a very detailed painting of a birth canal. I hoped Warren wouldn’t see that one because I know he would stare and make some kind of joke. “If you want to lay down here the tech will be in momentarily,” The nurse smiled between us leaving the room quickly.

Warren let out a deep breath. I knew he was nervous, which was a characteristic I wasn’t used to seeing in him but had showed up all damn weekend.

“Can they tell us today if it’s going to be a boy or a girl?” Warren laughed a little as he took a seat next to mine. I raised my eyebrows, embarrassed for him that he even asked me that question.

“Warren, the baby is like the size of a watermelons seed or some shit,” I shook my head and laid back on the chair. I stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine I was on a beach somewhere with a spliff and a really strong Mai Tai.

“Y/N?” A woman was at the door, she looked really friendly and had on bright blue scrub pants and a scrub top with a bunch cats riding on clouds on it. I liked her instantly.

“That’s me,” I called out. Warren stood up, extending out his hand like he was meeting the fucking president.

“I’m Warren.. I’m the dad,” He smiled politely. She shook his hand and looked at him like he was the cutest puppy dog she had ever seen. I’m sure she sees dads like Warren all the time. That was such a weird thought - Dad’s like Warren….

“I’m Bri, I’ll be your ultrasound tech today! I’m just going to do some measurements to see how far along you are and calculate a due date!” Her voice was calming and I felt a lot less terrified as I had been the last time I was here. I think Warren being here was helpful with that.

“Great, thank you so much,” I responded quietly as I watched her sit down on the chair in front of the ultrasound machine. She turned it on, and I had a flash back from the first time I watched Knocked-up with Warren. He thought it was the funniest movie ever, but you found it to be a terrifying reality for what some woman have to go through after an accidental pregnancy. Now I was that girl living her own terrifying reality.

“If you don’t mind lifting up your shirt and pulling down your yoga pants a little we can get started. The gel is a little cold, but will warm up pretty quick,” She instructed at me and I followed her directions. I placed both hands down and looked at the ceiling again. I felt Warren grab my hand and squeeze it when the gel hit my abdomen. I felt her little probe like object that was attached to the monitor on my stomach. I looked over at Warren, his eyes were fixed on the ultrasound screen. His mouth was slightly ajar and an intense scowl on his face. I swallowed hard.

“Okay, so you’re measuring at 7 weeks, and looking at your chart and last menstrual, it looks like you’ll have your little peanut around June 9th!” How did she sound so excited. That was the start of summer. How was I going to finish off finals fearing I would give birth at any moment.

“Here’s the baby, take a look,” She moved the monitor so It was closer to me. I slowly looked over and saw a black circle amongst all the static looking gray. Inside that black circle was a squiggly line and a blob. It even looked like it had a leg and an arm and I suddenly felt this overwhelming sense of….joy.

“It’s already got my big head,” Warren laughed.

The ultrasound tech, Bri, giggled as well and placed a hand on my arm. “The baby’s heart rate is at 110 beats per minute, which is fantastic.”

“So it’s healthy and I haven’t fucked anything up yet?” I don’t know what came over me, but I blurted that out without thinking.

“I just see a pretty healthy happy little peanut that is going to grow fast and be here before you know it!” Bri was used to saying this I’m sure, but it did make me feel a sense of relief and also a bit of fear.

“I can’t believe that’s OUR baby,” Warren’s voice rang out. I smiled at him and he was looking at me like I had just given him the ultimate gift. I guess I kind of was.

We finished our appointment and made another at the front desk. Warren was so invested and even pulled out his phone’s calendar to make sure he was available for the next time we’d be here. He was on cloud nine, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t too. We were going to be parents, and for one moment I wanted to be allowed to feel joyous about it, not sitting there thinking about the logistics of it all.

We got back into the car and Warren leaned in instantly to kiss me. His lips on mine made the world around us disappear.

“I’m so happy you’re the mother of my big headed baby,” Warren spoke between kisses. I laughed and hit his chest but deepening our kiss. I always thought of myself as a bit addicted to weed, but honestly I was way more addicted to Warren. No matter the dumb shit he did, he made me feel alive with his excitement of life and I wanted our child to get that characteristic from him.

“This is so crazy,” I smiled against his lips and he pulled away to stare at me. He had the most intense eyes, something else I hope our child gets from him.

“I have it all figured out. We’re going to be fine - great even.” Warren grabbed my face and kissed my forehead fast before getting back before the wheel and turning his key in the ignition. Maybe he got a job? Maybe he was selling weed?

“Oh yeah, and what makes you think we’re going to be just fine?” I was curious now, his nervousness seemed to subside and it was replaced with utter jubilance.

He laughed and drummed on the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking lot. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Because Spencer and I are going to pull off an Art Heist.”

#evan peters imagine #evan peters fanfic #evan peters #evan peters x reader #warren lipka x reader #warren lipka imagine #warren lipka #Warren lipka American animals #evan peters smut

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atsadi-shenanigans · 5 months

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Feeding Alligators 15 - It's a Goddamn Cult

You find a dying man and learn something. You do not take it well.

On AO3.

You imply Kahga had something to do with Halsin getting caught. They’d all heard her snap at that other druid, “Don’t say his name! He’s not here!” Which sounds, at very best, shady as fuck. A letter about a secret meetup needs to be investigated if you’re to properly rescue this healer. Lae’zel takes the news with a glare and what you assume is githyanki swearing.

And that’s how y’all end up back on the road again, with a fresh set of clothes you bought from that halfling guy using a pile of gold (from Gale, to whom you now owe twenty-seven gold pieces so guess who has to start robbing bodies). Spending gold coins like they’re ten dollar bills; this economy is so fucked.

Your new stays are a soft blue, covered in tiny, white flowers. You cover it this time with the shirt you bought (bloodstains can be an inside shirt because no one else will see that and run screaming). Wading through a swamp seems like something you might want some kind of overclothes for.

You once again lag after everyone. Part of it is all the goddamn walking. After three? Four days of hiking? You’ve burned through your energy reserves and your ass drags. This is probably going to be fantastic for your cholesterol levels, once all is said and done. If squidwards even have cholesterol levels.

The other part is the headache. None of the others have mentioned one—though the tadpole has mind whammied them all a few times by this point (Gale damn near tripped over his mumu when your tadpole shivered as you were thinking longingly of cruising down a highway at seventy miles per hour with the windows down). Which led to a snack break while you had to explain highways, cars, and radios. The tadpole shimmies are a fucking weird sensation, but that’s not the screaming throb through your skull.

You say nothing of that. You don’t like the way Lae’zel looks at you when she catches you rubbing your right eye. Her lizard brain lives right on the surface of her skin, and you can feel that cold, predatory judgment pressing you every time her head turns your way.

Astarion makes quips—how he likes his steak super rare, how flowers are stupid, how he’s apparently got a gaggle of bed warmers back in the city. When Shadowheart calls him out for practicing pickup lines within earshot you stagger off the path before you can piss yourself laughing. This starts a verbal slapfight between the two of them over haircare routines.

He says nothing of y’all’s chat the evening prior.

He’s the first one to catch what turns out to be sobbing and shouting. The man literally perks up like you scenting coffee a block away.

“Oh? What’s that?” he says.

A dead guy, is what it is. Or almost dead. And two people understandably losing their shit over him. You downed a bottle of the dirt potion that morning, and you have one left. You almost saved today’s for later. But when the woman starts snarling at you to stay back, and when the dying guy looks at you and your fucking brain worm wiggles, you’re glad you took it.

It hits you like a breaker wave. The mind whammy slams into you, bowls you over, and sends you spinning. This isn’t the slight brush you’ve had with the others. This is fucking focused.

You catch faces, names. A chamber with a giant, red goblin man chanting. The two, mourning humans hunch on their knees before an old goblin, their faces upturned and shining wet with joyous tears.

More than that are the feelings. The dying man’s protection for these two. Love and devotion to someone else. Something else. Love and devotion, the way one loves and adores a parent. You feel safe. You feel joy. You feel power and salvation. The one come to rescue you from filth and sin. The one to pull you up from nothing to join his (her) mighty forces, to ride forth in a vanguard to cleanse the world for his (her) children. A call to remake the world in her image, perfect and beautiful and eternal. An eternity basking in her perfect love and her perfect guidance.

A lord. A savior—

You wrench yourself back so hard you physically stumble. Lae’zel catches you—mostly so you don’t fall on her.

Your entire body shakes so hard you can’t see straight. Panting, rasping in your throat so loud you don’t even hear the dying man’s last words, aside from two: true soul. But you can’t pay attention. Every hair on your body stands on end. Your heart slams your ribcage so hard it shudders your entire chest. You want to bolt. Want to scream. You want to grab that man by the neck and spit obscenities in his face because it’s a lie, it’s all a lie and he’s too fucking stupid and deluded to realize that. Too hopped up on petty power, too busy hurting people who look up to him, who trust him, she wouldn’t do that to you, she’s supposed to love you and protect you, she can’t be hurting you, she can’t be leaving you to this, you must deserve it, you’re the reason her life fell apart because you’re filthy and sinful and wrong—

“A True Soul?” the balding man says. “You? Oh, praise the Absolute!”

You can fucking hear the bullshit capitalization. Familiar bullshit. Your bullshit.

None of the others have a chance to respond. Your adrenaline jacks into your system and you all but throw yourself to the front. You lock gazes with Baldy and the worm in your head hums in delicious approval.

“She’s a True Soul?” the woman says. The more skeptical of the two. Newer, perhaps.

You don’t know what an Absolute is, but you know the flavor of this. You know it too well. You can play with this.

“Your brother speaks true,” you say. Your own accent dulls and clips itself, buries itself under sharper-than-usual northern. “What happened here?”

The man explains. Something called an owlbear. The guy is a blubbering mess. He doesn’t have your attention, though. The woman does. Because while he’s desperate to believe, she’s not the easy type. She’s the hard sell. The one who must be coaxed in. Broken in. But once that’s done, once she’s been twisted into line, she makes for the best weapon against the enemy. Especially once she gets a taste for it, gets her first hit of righteousness and then she’s in forever. A pawn of her own free will. A cherished right hand, eager to do her duty (whatever she’s told).

She becomes the worst of them all.

The three of them were out here searching for survivors of the nautiloid crash. That’s y’all! The energy around the group fills with building charge. Their orders are to capture or kill. They’re hunting y’all.

“Who is the Absolute?” you say.

Skeptic blinks, and there’s that doubt. But you can play on that, too.

You summon your best Aunt Patty May (the hateful bitch). “I asked you a question, sister.”

“A test?” Skeptic says. And she rolls right over to show you her metaphorical belly. Because one doesn’t question the voice of the savior, does one? One must obey.

A goddess. Maybe a false one. Definitely connected to the brainworms, though. Someone from the ship, maybe? Skeptic babbles about a great purge, to be lead by the true souls.

“You will rule,” Skeptic says. “Once the old systems are torn down.”

There’s too much going on. You need to speak to the group. You need these bumblefucks out of here.

The shining line between points one and two lights up in your brain. A perfect solution, clean and simple.

“The owlbear,” you say. “It’s nearby?”

Gale makes an aborted sound. You don’t even blink.

“In a cave down the road,” Baldy says. “It’s a den, we think.”

“Then it sounds like you know where you must go and what you must do.”

Baldy’s face goes slack. Then rigid in terror. He glances to Skeptic. “But that’s… we can’t…?”

Skeptic nods slowly. But not in any agreement with her partner. “That monster attacked a true soul. It’s an enemy of the Absolute.”

A cold flush sweeps down your skin. It’s such a perfect solution. Ties up everything and plonks a little bow on the top.

“And enemies of the Absolute will be destroyed,” you say.

You’re detached from your body. Not hovering over it, or anything. Not trapped behind your own eyes. Just cold and clear and dead inside. Lizard brain in the pilot’s chair, watching with predatory interest.

“Thank you, true soul,” Skeptic says. To her partner, “Come on. We’ll meet her there once she’s finished her business.”

She gives you a nod, which you return but shallower. True souls are some higher rank, and higher ranks do not lower themselves to their lessers.

You kneel down and move over the dead man. It doesn’t take long for Skeptic to drag Baldy down the trail and out of sight. Zealous. A real victory for these true soul dipshits.

“What was all that?” Shadowheart says, and you thaw enough to pick up on the edge in her voice.

“What’s an owlbear?” you say and turn. All four of them watch you. None of them looks particularly friendly.

Fuck. You fucked up. This Absolute horseshit hit too close to home, slipped through all your defenses and all the coping mechanisms you worked so fucking hard to build, and it knifed into soft flesh you didn’t even know was there anymore. Maybe it’s all the stress. The exhaustion and adrenaline. The fighting and looting the dead and the murder. You’re in a completely different reality, and within four days, some fucking goddamn shitass cult fucking found you.

Un-fucking-believable.

(“Is it, though?” a tiny part of you whispers. “No one ever actually gets out, do they?”)

Even worse, you’ve shown your hand. There’s no doubting the sudden caution in Gale’s eyes, or the carefully blank look Shadowheart wears.

You panicked, is what you did. More than a decade out and the merest fucking suggestion of a whisper and you lost your shit completely.

You fold your hands in front of you to hide the trembles. You’re glad you’re wearing two shirts, so they can’t see the sweat stains you feel gathering in your armpits.

“You’ve never heard of an owlbear?” Gale says slowly. He wants to trust you. He wants this to be a simple mistake.

“No,” you say and make sure to blink more, to hold his gaze less. You’d been mean-mugging Skeptic and Baldy. Sasha caught you doing that when trying to intimidate people (on purpose or not).

“A rather nasty creature,” Gale says. Warms up to the subject more as he describes it. You let the calm melody of his voice wash over you as you listen. Let the sound of the words sink into your skin, soothe the tightened muscles enough for you to breathe properly. Except what he describes sounds like a monster. Bear body, owl front, all razor beak and meat hook claws. Judging by how opened up the dead guy is, it knows how to use them. “It’s not too late to follow those two and pull them back. If it’s fed recently, owlbears typically like to sleep off a large meal, I’ve read.”

And therin lies the problem.

You can nod. Demure to his wisdom and kindness. Keep your low profile and hope these people know what they’re doing well enough to keep your ass out of this. You’ve only been on speaking terms for a few days. You don’t even know the basic rules of this world.

But there’s so much adrenaline. The dread is a roiling pit in your stomach. You fled in the middle of the night without even the clothes on your back so they couldn’t come after you for theft (Sasha had a duffel in her truck; the first time you’d worn jeans since you were five years old). Disappeared yourself as well as anyone legally could. Changed your name, changed your state, did everything you could. Healed as best you could, took therapy as best you could, got on medication for the depression and the anxiety. You did everything you were supposed to do, but you’d see someone out of the corner of your eye, even more than a decade later. Someone you didn’t know, had never met, and on second glance, had nothing to do with anything. But that didn’t stop your pulse from jackrabbitting. From your lungs squeezing. It got better, over the years, but it never left. Not completely.

Every instinct you ever built screams at you. Shrieks in your mind to run, to hit, to start biting. None of these people would know what it was like so how could they ever anticipate how to deal with this? How could any of them know what to watch for?

You taste lemon and raspberries. You have to gulp several times to keep your stomach from coming back up your throat.

“This creature sounds like a challenge,” Lae’zel says, because while you’re melting into an internal, gibbering mess, the world around you doesn’t actually stop on your account.

“This creature sounds like it’s not our business,” Shadowheart says. “Nor these people and their ‘Absolute.’ You’re the one reminding us all of the little monsters in our heads, constantly.”

“I actually agree with you, darling,” Astarion says. “We’re off to a swamp, yes? Much as I loathe to imagine what we’ll find there, it’s bound to be ages better than some rancid animal’s lair.”

“Gale,” you say. “Didn’t you mention speaking to the dead?”

The group pauses. Gale blinks. “Ah, the Amulet of Lost Voices, yes. You have questions for this poor fellow, I take it?”

“Please. Ask him why they were looking for us?”

Gale says something in latin and his eyes glow green. The corpse jerks off the ground, and in a slurred voice, rasps out answers. Goosebumps sweep up your arms and down your thighs.

They’re looking for a weapon. Their “mighty goddess” thinks one of y’all have it. That it was taken by infidels.

The spell runs out. Gale lets the man fall. He takes a few breaths and rubs his chest.

“You okay?” you say.

His grimace fades. “Quite. I’ve been rather out of sorts since our new cranial tenants took up residence. My magic is more difficult than it should be. Never fear, Eleanor; I seem to be regaining my strength every day.”

You nod. Look at the dead guy.

“Quite the popular little deity, this ‘Absolute,’” Astarion says, peering over your shoulder.

You will rule, Skeptic had said.

They think y’all’s group has a weapon. They know y’all were on that ship. How do they know that? How would they—

The tadpole squirms. That’s all the warning you get. You’re looking at the dead guy, and the next you know the worm slams itself against the inside of your skull, rolls against your brain and you almost black out. Your vision explodes into sparkles and you feel your arms moving. Something in the tadpole reaching through you. It finds a mirror in the dead guy.

And pulls.

“You—sunuvabitch!” you say.

It wants. It craves the tadpole inside the dead man. Its experience, its power added to yours. You’re so weak here. But you can be more. You need not fear.

That’s the tadpole. Burrowing into your soft brain tissue and whispering into your mind. Tasting the bitter fear in your blood and turning it against you. Dripping sweet poison into you. It wants you to pull the worm out, take it, devour it.

“Go fuck yourself you pansy ass bitch!” you say and slam down every mental shutter you have. Lock it down, Throw all the switches. Light it the fuck up.

The psionic power snaps. Backfires. The body thuds back down and your knees almost buckle. You look up just in time to see some xenomorph shit shifting under the guy’s dead face, before the toothy fucking tadpole punches out in a fine spray of blood and eyeball jelly.

“Jesus fuck!”

The little bastard shimmies fast. Writhes off into the brush before you even finish flailing away from it. Leaving all of you standing there with a dead body and way too many questions.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion #it's a goddamn isekai #i'm not sorry #baldur's gate iii #feeding alligators #no betas we die like men #religious trauma #tav has backstory

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summerlycoris · 11 days

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Day 4- Food. (Also pretty slice of life-y tbh) of @vanweek2024

Fic is also below, under the cut. (About 5000 words.) Not formatted sorry because I'm tired.

A plate with the most beautiful looking cheeseburger she’d seen in ages was placed down in front of her. It had a salad on the side, and had tomato sauce leaking from the sides in a way that made her mouth water.

And she can barely resist devouring it right there and then. Except she is trying to be polite, because Mike and Abby are here and hadn’t quite got their meals yet. Also, she didn’t want to push herself too hard only to end up back in hospital again.

She could still feel where her stitches had been.

She didn’t have much time to ruminate, thank goodness, because Abby needed help to clear away her half finished coloring in, to receive her meal (a plate of chicken nuggets and chips.) And Mike received his plate, with a steak and mushrooms on top, and chips to the side.

Once all the plates were placed. (And they’d thanked the server.) The conversation started again.

“I got a twenty out of twenty on my spelling test, Vanessa! Even though some of the words were really hard, like ‘defenestration’. Apparently, that’s the word for when you throw somebody out a window.” Abby said, looking so excited that she could almost bounce herself out of the booth.

Mike put his hand on her head, to keep her grounded. While Abby tried to duck away with a whine.

Vanessa tried to fight back some giggles, and responded. “Wow, that is a hard word to spell. You did really well Abby.”

Abby stopped squirming and beamed up at Vanessa. Allowing Mike to get his hand back, and start eating. Vanessa finally gave in- but started with the salad. She was going to save the best for last.

“I’ve also made some new friends at school- there’s this girl I’ve met, her name’s Emily. She’s nice, and lets me play with her at recess.” Abby said, in a big clump of words.

“Is this Emily a real girl, or another ghost?” Mike said between bites of his chips.

Abby rolled her eyes, and stared up at Mike, who was fighting off a grin. “She’s real Mike- but ghosts are real, too! You should know that.”

“Yeah, I know. Ghost kids are real. You know what else is real. Abs?”

She looked confused, and shook her head. While Mike tried to keep a straight face, pointing to her plate. “Your chicken nuggets. You better eat them up before I do.” Before faking a swipe at her food.

“Hey!” Abby yelped, and tried to push him away by the shoulder. She quickly chucked one of the chicken nuggets into her mouth, and pulled her plate to the side furthest from Mike. Almost scrunching up the coloring page she’d been working on.

Luckily for Abby, Mike seemed to give up on ‘trying’ to eat her meal for her. Instead, focusing back on his own food. Though, he asked Vanessa a question first. “Once we��re done here, I’ll show you around the house, okay?”

Vanessa nodded. She’d agreed to stay with them, after discharge from the hospital. Because the alternative was to be at her place, by herself. With nothing to distract her from everything.

She’d finished the salad by the next time Abby asked her something.

“Hey Vanessa, when we get home can I show you my toys?”

She couldn't help but smile. She knew Abby and Mike would be great at distracting her. Without even realizing it. “Of course, I’d love to see them. Oh, and you’ll have to introduce me to them, too. I don’t know any of their names.”

That got Abby excited again. To the point she nearly bolted out of the booth “Okay then- let's go-” before Mike could grab her hand and get her to stick around.

“We’re not ready to go- me and Vanessa are still eating.” Mike said.

Abby tapped her fingers against the table, before asking. “Can I go play in the playground for a bit?”

Mike hmmmd over that. Leaving Abby in suspense. “Okay- but be good in there, okay?” Abby nodded, and jumped out of the booth, this time without being stopped.

“Okay- bye Mike, bye Vanessa!” She called back as she ran through the diner towards the playground. Nearly running into the waiter delivering to another customer. Vanessa waved after her.

Mike sighed, and shook his head.

“Oh well, it’s good for her to meet other kids, Mike.” Vanessa said.

“True, true. Just wish she’d be a bit more careful sometimes. Could’ve got a plateful of spaghetti for hair just before.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure that’s in fashion these days. Don’t they have dolls about that concept?” Vanessa joked.

“Ugh, yes. I’ve seen the ads sometimes when Abs is watching cartoons.”

She couldn't help chuckling at the thought of Mike sitting through a bunch of ads for toys. Even if it made her stomach hurt a bit. (Only a bit. She wasn’t going back to the hospital for laughing.)

They chatted together, mostly small talk while they ate their lunches.

The burger proved Vanessa absolutely right- it tasted as good as it had looked. Or maybe that was just a week on hospital food talking.

Either way, she wasn’t complaining.

While they talked, she learnt that Mike had found a better job, and that he’d sworn off sleeping on the job. “Only took nearly losing my sister to teach me a lesson.” He said, shaking his head.

“If you’d listened to me the first time, you could’ve saved yourself the hassle.”

He fought back a laugh at being chided. “Yeah, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Next time, I’ll listen.”

“I hope so.”

He changed the subject, to a slightly more serious one. “Hey, uh. With you staying with us.” He looked like he was really struggling to figure out what words to use. “If Abby’s too much. Like, if you need to rest or something. Let me know? I can distract her, take her to the park or for a walk-”

“I should be fine, Mike. But I’ll let you know, okay?”

He nodded, and shrugged his shoulders.

For a while, they ate silently. There was a tension in the air, and sometimes, Mike would look like he wanted to say something. Until he put down his cutlery.

“I’m glad you're doing okay. After everything. It must be rough.” He said, quietly. Trying to avoid drawing too much attention to them in the busy diner.

She put down her half finished burger. Honestly, she didn’t feel hungry anymore. Her stomach hurt.

“Yeah, it is a bit rough. But it’s better this way.” She said with a faint smile. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him, or herself.

“I guess it is, huh?” He said, looking away. “I just… I can understand if you have mixed feelings about him. In the end, he was your dad.”

She didn’t want to talk about this. Not here.

“Hey, what’s the new job like?”

They got caught up in a conversation about work, and life. Until Mike finished his lunch, and until Abby came back from the playground.

“On the way home, did you want to swing by your place, so you can grab some more clothes?” Mike asked over Abby's head, on the walk back to the car. Because Abby was in between them both, holding both their hands tightly.

She nodded. And felt relieved. She was wearing the spare clothes that she’d asked a coworker to bring in from the station a few days ago. But she’d need more for a sleepover.

Especially one that'd be lasting for a few days.

________

“Over here, over here!” Abby led the way, running off to her bedroom. While Mike was bringing in her bag of clothes for the next few days.

She felt bad for not carrying it herself. But she could still feel where the stitches had been. And being bed bound for weeks left her feeling weak.

(It hadn’t even been a big day, but she felt wiped.)

All she could do was hold the door open for him. And thank him for the help. And for letting her stay.

“No sweat, happy to have you.”

She’d ‘visited’ before, but hadn’t got to go inside then. Now she was, and it was a cute little home. A living room to the right, kitchen to the left. And Abby's bedroom must've been to the left, too, because Vanessa could see her come back through the kitchen to grab her hand. Tugging her impatiently towards her room. “Come on, I need to introduce you-”

Vanessa could hear her bag slump to the floor, as Mike called out. “Abby- don’t pull, okay? She only just got here.”

She wanted to call back out something like “I’m okay!”, but she was spirited away too quickly, straight into Abby’s bedroom.

A bedroom with a desk, filled with crafts, and a pillow fort over by the far wall near the window. Abby let go of her, now that she was here, and dove for the fort. Vanessa walked a bit closer, and could hear Mike catching up.

Looking through the curtain, Vanessa could see the toys Abby wanted to introduce her to, as Abby pulled them out from under the blankets.. A stuffed bear (that wasn’t a Freddy doll.), a fairy doll, some knockoff barbies (just as good as the real thing, Vanessa thought.), and a baby doll.

Once Abby gathered them all up together, she dragged them outside, and handed the bear to Vanessa gently.

She could hear the creaking of springs behind her.

“This one’s name is Alice. She’s a pretty bear, and she likes playing catch.” Vanessa sat down, still holding Alice. While Abby showed off her other toys. “This one is nicknamed Beatrice. She hasn’t told me her true name yet.” She whispered that last part, as she held up the fairy doll. “These three… I don’t have any special names for yet. They get different names based on what I’m playing with them.” she put the barbies to the side, “And this one's name is Michael.” She said with a cheeky grin, while holding up the baby doll around his waist.

“No it’s not. You were calling it Ricky the other day.”

Abby pouted, and held the baby doll tighter. “Well, his name is Michael now.” She went back to addressing Vanessa. “Do you want to hold him?”

She nodded, but stopped reaching out for the doll. “Hold on, Abby. To hold this baby safely, I might need to swap you. Did you want Alice back?”

“Okay? Though, what do you mean?” Abby asked, as Vanessa put Alice down next to her.

“Well, to hold a baby safely, you need to support his head.” She held out her arms, and demonstrated the hold, when Abby passed over Michael.

(Yeah, that’s never going to stop feeling weird to call it, she thought.)

“... And if you hold the baby like this, you can even rock him to sleep.” Vanessa said, changing her hold slightly. Abby nodded, looking at her intently, like she was trying to take mental notes.

They played with the dolls for a while together. Because Abby found a baby bottle for Michael, and also found a fairy wand for Beatrice. At some point, Mike left the room for a while, leaving them to it. After a while, she could hear what sounded like a vacuum start up in the living room.

Occasionally, Mike would open the door with a creak, and check on them. Sometimes, he’d even come in and play for a little bit, before going off to do another chore.

Vanessa was decent with kids. Honestly, if she hadn’t been… compelled to join the police force, she probably would’ve studied to become a teacher, or something similar to that.

So she had a lot of fun playing with Abby, even if she wasn’t as good at imagining things as Abby was.

Eventually though, she did have to call it quits. She felt rude, for not saying much to Mike since she got here, or asking about house rules, anything like that.

Also because her legs were filled with pins and needles, from sitting on the floor for so long.

“Please, Vanessa. There’s so much more we could do.” Abby whined, as Mike checked in on them again.

“Sorry Abby. My legs aren’t okay with me sitting like that for so long. Maybe we can play again a bit later?”

“Hey. Abs, let her go for now, okay. We can go for a walk if you want?” Mike said, walking over to the two of them. Vanessa used this opportunity to slowly stand up, and try to stretch her legs to get the blood flowing again.

Abby wasn’t impressed, clearly. Though, she was also clearly trying to regulate herself. At least in Vanessa’s eyes. “When we play later, can we have a tea party?” She looked from Vanessa, to Mike.

“Yeah, I’d love to- but later.” She could understand what Mike had been telling her about earlier, now.

“After dinner- we can have a tea party, before bedtime, okay?” Mike clarified. Abby nodded, so he continued. “I’m gonna show Vanessa around- you can come help, if you want. Then I’m taking you for a walk to the park.”

Abby quickly put her toys back into the fort, then stood up with an “Okay.”

It wasn't a big house, so there wasn’t much to show Vanessa, except where the bathroom was, and where she was going to sleep. Mike led her and Abby to the bedroom, where Vanessa could see her bag of clothes near the bed.

“Mike, I can take the couch.”

“No you're not. You’re our guest. And you're recovering. You’re getting the bed.”

Abby looked up at them both. “You could always share.”

Vanessa could barely fight her giggles, while Mike shook his head.

They still barely knew each other, in the end.

“Sorry Abby, I steal the blankets while sleeping. So we really can’t share.�� Vanessa lied.

“All the more reason for you to get the bed.” Mike said.

With that, she gave up the fight. For now.

“Anyway, we’ll give her some time to settle in, right Abby? Vanessa’s probably tired out from playing.”

Abby considered it for a moment, before going with Mike. “We’ll see you when we get back, okay?”

Vanessa nodded, and waved them off. Before heading back out towards the living room. She could see the front door shut behind them, and hear them walking away.

During the tour, she’d noticed an inflatable mattress on the living room floor, inflated, and folded up to the side. With a pillow and a blanket folded on top.

There were some puzzles that Abby had shown off during the house tour out here. Mike had also shown her the VCR player, and where he kept the tapes.

She found one that she hadn’t previously seen. A mystery, by the blurb on the back of the case- so her mind would be occupied, and hopefully wouldn’t wander.

She put it on, and settled back on the couch to watch it. Her legs no longer felt like pins and needles, and she could barely feel where the stitches had been. Even when her hand absentmindedly grazed over her abdomen.

…

She was starting to wish she’d gone with them.

________

Abby had the patience of a saint. All through watching a movie together with Vanessa and Mike after her walk (though, she kept looking like she was barely resisting the urge to drag Vanessa and Mike back to her room for that tea party.), and then through preparing dinner and eating it.

To the point where she was vibrating in place so much at the kitchen table, Vanessa thought she was going to explode.

“Mike?” Abby started to ask, as he took the plates up to the sink. “I kept my part of the deal- can we please have the tea party now?”

Mike hemmed and hawed, and kept her in suspense for a bit longer.

“Well… we could… but I need to clean up the dishes first, Abs.”

Abby flung her head down on the table in defeat. “No, Mike…” she grumbled.

Vanessa couldn’t help but feel bad for her. “Hey, Abby?” She picked her head up, and looked at Vanessa. “How about you and I get ready for the tea party, then when Mike’s done with the dishes, he can bring the tea?”

That seemed to help her perk up again. “Yeah- I know where the tablecloth is. And the coaster!” Abby said, before pushing away from the table, and running back to her room.

Vanessa thought the Tea party would be out at the kitchen table. So she was surprised when Abby reappeared carrying supplies, only to rush right past her into the living room.

“Hey, Abs. Where's the fire?” Mike called out, a little late as she was already long gone.

He didn't get an answer, so Vanessa asked him a question. “Are tea parties usually picnics with Abby?”

The dishes clanged against each other, as he put them up in the drainer to air dry. “No, she's probably using the coffee table. She once told me, ‘It's the right size for my dolls’.” He said.

“That makes sense. Her knees and legs stung, reminding her of how she'd been sitting on the floor earlier. “Will she be offended if I sit at the couch, instead of on the floor?”

Mike shook his head. “No, when I play it with her, I'm usually up on the couch. So she'll probably be expecting it.”

That made sense, so she went into the living room, and checked to see how Abby was going.

She'd managed to clear off the coffee table, and get the tablecloth (really just a large tea towel) onto it, as well as the coasters and had placed some little pretend teacups on top. Now she was in the process of laying down some of the cushions from her fort, as seats for her dolls.

Speaking of dolls.

“Hey, Vanessa? Can you help me bring the dolls out here?” Abby asked, as Vanessa got closer to the couch.

“Yeah, of course.”

Abby burst into a big grin, before grabbing her hand again and leading her back through to her bedroom. “I'll carry Michael- just like you taught me, earlier. Can you please bring Alice and Beatrice with you?”

“What about the barbies?”

Abby scrunched up her face, deep in thought while cradling her baby doll. “They're too little for a tea party. And also, they're too old.”

Vanessa could barely resist laughing, wondering how old Abby thought she was. As she picked up the two dolls and followed Abby back to the living room.

On the walk through, Vanessa could see that Mike had finished with the dishes, and had gotten out some biscuits to put on a plate, as well as a small jug of what looked like milk.

Mike must've seen her looking it over, because he responded before she could even ask- “She doesn't actually like tea. So, this milk is ‘pretend tea’. Don't tell her.”

“Do the dolls get any ‘pretend tea?” She joked.

“No, they get straight vodka. Keeps them quiet over night.”

She burst out laughing, and nearly dropped the dolls she was holding. Only stopping when Abby came out, wondering what was keeping her up.

They all went back to the living room together, because Mike was done getting the drink and snacks. Mike put the plate, and the jug down in the middle of the coffee table, Abby took a seat while holding her baby doll, while Vanessa found two spare cushions for the dolls she’d been carrying. After seating them, she joined mike on the couch.

Abby sat stiffly with her back straight, and “a-hem"d to get their attention. Even though she already had it. “Welcome everyone, to this wonderful tea party. The best tea party to ever exist, in the history of tea parties…” Abby started, putting on a pompous voice for her speech.

Unfortunately for her, ‘Beatrice’ (actually Mike) was a heckler. “Get on with it! We're starving over here!” He said, trying to look like he wasn't, and make it sound like he wasn't too. Poking the poor fairy doll with his shoe to make her look like she was moving.

Abby played along, gasping at ‘Beatrice's rudeness. “Why, I never! Beatrice- you will be the last to get tea! And you will get the last biscuit!”

“Awww…” complained ‘Beatrice’.

After giving a pointed look at Mike, Abby continued her speech. “Yes, this tea party is a special tea party, because it is a celebration. A celebration of Vanessa being okay again!” She cheered, and made all the toys cheer along with her, by lifting their arms up.

Just before Vanessa could say something like ‘this is too much’, or ‘thank you, Abby’, Abby continued. “And also, a celebration for my perfect spelling test.”

“Nice priorities, Abs.” Mike said. And Vanessa nearly burst out into giggles at this silly exchange. It all just… Well, it didn't remind her of her family. More what her family could've been.

Abby kept supporting her baby dolls head, but only his head- as she took one arm away to point at Mike. “Shush you! Or you'll be sharing the last biscuit with Beatrice!”

This threat didn't phase Mike at all. “Oh no, whatever will I do?” He said, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “It's not like I can't go get the rest of the packet after you go to bed… also, watch for that baby, you're kind of dangling him right now.”

Vanessa wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Whether Abby would call Mike's bluff, or laugh along, or get angry.

Instead, she shook her head in disbelief, and looked up at Vanessa. “This is what I live with. Every single day, Vanessa.” She looked over at Mike, with a cheeky grin, while continuing to address Vanessa. “Hey, Vanessa, could you adopt me please?”

Mike burst into loud laughter, falling back against the couch cushions. And that cut through whatever tension there was, making Vanessa and Abby burst out laughing too.

“Sorry Abby, my apartment has a no children policy.” Vanessa lied, between her laughter. (It was more like she didn't have enough bedrooms. And also because, while she liked Abby, she didn't want to adopt her. Or take her away from Mike.)

“Aww, Abs. I thought you liked me again?” Mike managed to splutter out.

Abby crinkled up her face, thinking it over. Still holding her doll with one hand. “I do… but you're on thin ice, Mike!”

“I'm always on thin ice.” He said to Vanessa, before getting the baby doll thrown at his face.

________

It was only right that Vanessa would help pack away the tea party afterwards, while Mike got Abby ready for bed. She was a guest, but that didn’t mean she should be lazy. At least, that's the way she saw it.

By the time Abby was in bed, and Mike was shutting the door and turning off the light, the living room was cleaned up just like it had been earlier. The tea dishes had been washed, and put away.

Mike sighed in relief, as he sat down on the couch next to Vanessa. She’d flicked the TV on, not to anything specific. Just to have some quiet background noise, something to focus on.

“Thanks for keeping her busy earlier.” Mike said. For a bit, Vanessa was confused, until he clarified. “It can be really hard to get stuff done while Abby’s home, sometimes. So, thanks for making it easier.”

She shook her head. “It’s no problem- your sister’s cool, and it was nice to play with her.”

He fiddled around with the remote a bit, flicking between different channels. “Yeah, she is pretty cool. Sometimes.”

“Most times.”

the conversation died off, for a bit. As Vanessa tried to think of something else to talk about. Absent-mindedly, she looked over at the uninflated air mattress.

“Hey, where did you get that from?” She asked, pointing to the mattress.

“I don't actually know. Just found it recently, in some stuff from our old house. Pretty sure Mom brought it for Abby, when she got too big for the crib, but was too scared to sleep in her own room yet. At first, they set it up in their room, so Abby could sleep on it and get used to a ‘big girls bed’. And then, they set it up in Abby’s room, for Mom to sleep on. Until Abby was okay sleeping by herself.”

Vanessa sighed, after Mike was done telling that story. “Sorry, was I boring you?” He ssked.

She shook her head. “No, no. I just… It's hard to explain. It's a nice story. I'm a little jealous, if I can be honest.” That put a little smile on his face, so she continued. “Got any other stories you want to share?”

“Yeah, plenty. How much time do you got?”

“All the time in the world, now.”

“Well, let me go get the album, and I'll show you some stories.”

Mike stood up, and went to get out the family photo album from the hutch. When he brought it over, it was visibly dusty. And had a faint handprint from when he grabbed it, before he swept the dust away.

“Maybe you should have done that outside? Since you just vacuumed earlier?” Vanessa joked. He smiled faintly back, but didn’t continue that topic. Instead, cracking open the photo album.

There was a slight tension in the air now. Not the tension of someone staring you down holding a knife. But the… anxious sort of tension. Of realizing you're seeing something normally kept private.

She’d felt this tension before with Mike- when he was telling her about Garrett at the storm drain. She felt it while he had been needling her about spring locks in the storage room of Freddy's. And again, after she’d patched him up, before he went to try and save Abby.

Now she was feeling it once more looking at some family photos. Photos that had two young boys in it, plus a Mom and a Dad. And she counted herself lucky that she didn’t recognize either of the boys in the photos.

Mike must've seen that relief on her face, because he didn’t press her about Garrett,. About what she hadn’t seen. (That time.)

He did keep flicking through. Talking about the events behind the photos. Birthday parties, road trips, his parents anniversary dinner.

And the photos changed. To have an older boy only. Then a baby was added. Who grew into a young girl. Before the Mom vanished from the photos. Then the Dad.

Mike didn’t focus on the losses from the photos. He kept the story going- talking about Abby's first day of school while showing off that photo, when they went to the beach, or out on a snow day. Things like that. While Vanessa listened and watched intently.

Until they got to the end of the album. There were still some empty slots in it, for new photos.

“Thank you for showing me.” She said, as he shut the album gently.

“Thank you for listening. I know going over a completely different family’s old memories can be a bit… boring. Aunt Jane used to have the slowest slideshows imaginable, when I was a kid.”

“It wasn’t boring at all- Your family's nice, Mike. Except for your Auntie.”

He agreed with that. Then got up, to put the photo album away. leaving Vanessa with the tv for a moment.

And the tv crackled away, in front of her. She was tempted to turn it off, honestly. Until Mike sat back down.

“How was it for your family, if I can ask?” he said, quietly. As if he was worried that someone would be listening in.

She wasn't sure how to answer that question, at first. It was… personal.

But then. He'd spent the last while showing her something very personal to him. Because she'd asked. She'd feel like a hypocrite, if she didn't try.

“I don't exactly have any photos on me. You okay hearing the cliff notes?”

Mike nodded. So Vanessa kept going.

“Well, you know my dad. You know what he was.”

(A murderer.)

“But he could be nice, sometimes. Especially when Mom was still around. Sometimes we’d go on trips as a family, or just spend time together. Never often enough, though. Never often enough.”

She could feel her fingers grazing near her stomach again.

“Oh well- I could spend the rest of my life wondering about him. Or, I could spend it trying to pick up the pieces, and start again. What do you think?” She said, trying to lighten the mood.

“A second chance? Sounds good to me.” Mike agreed.

She changed the topic slightly. “I'm thinking of following in your footsteps.”

“What, planning on sleeping on the job when you get back to work?” He joked.

he laughed a bit, when she shoved his shoulder lightly. “No, I think I've had enough of sleeping in the hospital. I meant changing jobs.”

“That makes more sense. What are you thinking of?”

She shifted slightly in her seat. “I haven't decided yet, I’ll need to think a bit more about it.”

“Well, what did you dream of being when you were a kid?”

That question. He had asked it innocently, but it still felt like pins jabbing into her spine.

“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a police officer. I wanted to help people.”

(The only person she really helped was her dad.)

His shoulders slumped, and he took some think to think over a response.

“You helped me. And Abby. So, personally, I think you did a pretty good job.”

That helped lighten the mood. A little bit.

“Thanks, Mike.”

They chatted for a while longer. That tension from earlier felt like it was gone now, even though what they were talking about was often still very personal.

And time flew by, until they were both yawning and tired.

“I don't know about you, but I'm thinking of getting some sleep soon. I've got work tomorrow, and I'll need to make sure Abby gets to school, too.”

And he got up, to grab that uninflated air mattress, with the pillow and blanket on top.

And Vanessa's heart sank. Because…

Well, she didn't want to be alone, at night. While she tried to keep her thoughts at bay and sleep eluded her.

(She'd had enough nights like that, before meeting Mike.)

She'd hated it earlier, when they went out walking without her. And she knew she'd want to do something tomorrow, to get out of the house and not be by herself all day.

But tomorrow was less of a present problem than tonight.

…

And also? Because the thought of Mike spending the night out here just felt sad to her.

It felt weird to ask. There was a good chance he just wouldn't want to. But it'd feel weirder to her not to ask.

“Hey, Mike?”

He turned to look at her. “Yeah, Vanessa?”

Even with her resolve, she needed to force the words out through her teeth, or at least it felt that way.

“I don't want to be alone. And I noticed earlier, there's plenty of room in your room, for the mattress-”

Mike took mercy on her. “And you want me to set it up in there, so you're not alone?” he interrupted.

She nodded.

And for a second, she thought he'd refuse. After all, they'd only met about a month ago. And this was already such kindness offered to her, letting her stay here at all. He hadn't been obligated to have her stay with him. She could've been discharged, and went back to her apartment. Alone.

But he didn't.

“Yeah, I can do that. You don't snore, do you?” He joked. And she let her shoulders relax.

“Not often. If I do, just throw a pillow at me.”

They took turns, getting dressed into their pajamas. And Mike checked Abby for a final time, before turning off all the lights, except for the one in the bedroom. They both worked on inflating the mattress, and setting it up near Mike's dresser.

And Vanessa tried to pick that fight back up, from earlier- “Are you sure you don't want the bed? I'm happy to take the mattress.”

“Yeah, I'm sure. Though, ask me again tomorrow, and I might change my mind if my back's aching enough.”

“I'll make sure to ask.”

They both got into their beds, After Mike turned off the bedroom light. Throwing the room into darkness.

Seeing the shadows in this unfamiliar room, she was glad she could hear Mike's subtle breathing. Even if she could barely see him laying on the mattress on the floor.

“Goodnight Vanessa, I'll see you in the morning.”

“You too.”

Despite… everything. She was slowly able to get some sleep.

________

The next morning, Vanessa was woken up by the subtle creaking of the bedroom door.

And then nearly fell out of bed at the not-so-subtle yelling-

“You two had a slumber party? Without me?!”

Authors note- HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT BETTY? BETTY SPAGHETTY?!

Yeah that ads gonna live rent free in my head forever too, sorry Mike.

#vanweek2024 #fnaf fanfic #vanessa shelly #fnaf #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #im so late im sorry and also im tired its 1230am i need to go to bed #summerly writes

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