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pirateprincessblog · 2 months

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Killer Eyes

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.

song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.

mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.

he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.

"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.

nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.

loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.

"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"

at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.

the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.

"stand up."

the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.

"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.

he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.

"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.

he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.

"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.

the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.

"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.

"excuse me, what is going on here?"

a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.

"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."

"that man needs help!"

"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."

"help"

his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.

"i'm calling help, mr barnes."

"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."

mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.

you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.

you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?

"i want a patient change."

"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.

"he's a human before everything, sir."

the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.

"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"

"i'm just a doctor–"

"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."

"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.

"then act like it."

he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.

"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.

at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.

"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"

you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.

"understood?!"

"yes, yes–"

your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.

"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."

"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."

"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."

"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."

"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.

"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.

you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.

"dismissed."

days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.

a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.

what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.

you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.

your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.

your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.

PRISONER INFO

name: mingi song

record id: ##############

nationality: korean

gender: male

citizen: yes

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

dob: 09081999

age: 24

height: 183 cm

weight: 75 kg

ARREST & SENTENCING INFO

date: 25122022

charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence

summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.

you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.

the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.

"jeong office."

"i'll need you to cover for me today."

"doctor?"

"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."

it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.

"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."

"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."

"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.

you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.

you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.

"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.

they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.

"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."

"no, sit on mine!"

"i'd rather her sit between my legs."

"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"

you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.

you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.

"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.

"what is it, elijah?"

the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.

"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."

and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.

"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.

he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.

"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."

he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.

"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.

you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.

"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"

you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.

"imagine how it hurts me."

you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.

"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"

"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."

"the source of my pain, doctor. please."

your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.

"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"

"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."

you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.

he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.

"mr song?"

"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."

he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.

"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."

"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.

at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.

"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"

"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."

"mingi," he exhales.

"i'm not supposed to-"

"please."

you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?

"okay, mingi."

his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.

"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.

"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"

"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."

he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.

"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"

"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."

your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.

"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.

he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.

"mingi, you will have to let me go."

"just a bit more, please."

"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."

the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.

"lift your shirt up for me, please?"

he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.

you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.

you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.

"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"

"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.

he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.

"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.

he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.

"you're pretty." he blurts out.

"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.

"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.

"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.

"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."

you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.

"oh, god. what is this?"

"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.

"a belt?!"

"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."

"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.

you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.

"and what about this? does this hurt-?"

"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.

your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.

"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."

"x-ray? what could it be?"

"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."

he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.

"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.

"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."

your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.

"are you eating properly?"

he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.

"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."

"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.

he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.

"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.

"nothing."

"you can tell me." you push.

the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.

"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.

"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.

his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.

"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."

you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.

"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.

a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.

the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.

"good morning, mingi."

he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.

"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.

"good morn–"

slap.

mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.

"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"

the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.

"did I make myself clear?!"

"yes, yes! perfectly clear."

mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.

"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.

his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.

"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."

you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.

a good boy.

he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.

"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"

he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.

he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.

"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."

but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.

you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.

in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.

he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.

he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.

your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.

his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.

he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.

"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.

"shut the hell up."

the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.

"that lip cut looks new." you comment.

"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.

"cole?"

"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.

"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"

"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.

"okay."

mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.

"here's your medication."

you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.

"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.

"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.

"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.

the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.

"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.

"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.

"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.

"canteen?"

"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."

and with another smile, you are gone.

canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.

the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.

"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."

"okay," he finally agrees.

he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.

with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?

"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.

the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.

he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.

"well, well. lookie here."

three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.

"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.

"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.

"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.

"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.

they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?

"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.

"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"

"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"

"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.

"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."

the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.

jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.

"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"

"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."

"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."

"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."

"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."

mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.

"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"

"i'd rather her give me a head."

"i heard she's a virgin."

"aw, i get to be her first and last!"

mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.

one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat.

"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.

mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.

"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.

"what the fuck?!"

"oh my god!"

"who let him in here?"

"run!"

"get dr rachel!"

his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.

he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is slowly turning red.

"safe..." he whispers.

jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.

"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.

"safe from what, mingi?"

"i'll keep you safe."

his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.

"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"

dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.

"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."

"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.

"mr jeong?" she searches for support.

but he remains silent.

"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"

"shut up."

"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."

"shut up."

"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."

"shut up."

"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.

"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.

"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"

your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.

you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.

"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."

and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.

"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.

days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.

you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?

"doctor?"

you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.

"how is he?" you ask before thinking.

elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.

"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."

"how are his injuries? anything new?"

"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."

you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.

"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.

"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."

"i need to see him."

"no."

"make it happen, please. please, elijah."

"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."

you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."

elijah exhales. "fine."

at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.

hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.

you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.

"mingi," you call in a whisper.

his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.

"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.

"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."

"well, i'm not."

you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.

"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"

when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.

"i'm sorry," you choke out.

you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.

"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."

his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.

"can i? please?"

"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.

"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."

"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."

"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."

a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.

"barnes! care for a drink?"

"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."

"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."

"you paying?"

"sure am."

"then what the fuck we waiting for?"

the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.

"my savior," he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.

"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"

mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.

sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."

"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.

his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.

"so it's true."

"what is?"

"you're a virgin."

"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"

"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."

oh. oh.

"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."

"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."

the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.

"don't be a brat. i came to see you."

"and you did. i'm fine. now go."

"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"

"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."

"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."

he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.

mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.

"i can't."

"why not?"

"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."

"maybe i want to be hurt."

"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."

your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.

"i'd break you."

you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.

"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.

"and if you regret it?"

"i'll get over it."

with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.

"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.

"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."

"touch me more. i need more."

the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.

he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.

"should i take it off?"

"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."

"but won't it be difficult?"

"let me do the worrying. you just relax."

with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.

"stay still for me, princess."

a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.

"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."

"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"

"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal.

and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.

he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.

"does it hurt, doctor?"

"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.

"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."

his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.

"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.

"why?"

"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.

"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."

his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.

"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."

your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.

"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.

tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.

"forgive me."

"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.

"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."

his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.

"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."

you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.

"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."

then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.

"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."

"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.

"can i stuff you full of my cum?"

"you can, please."

"are you on any pills?"

"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."

mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.

"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."

"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."

"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."

"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."

"i want you all to myself."

he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.

"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."

"your cunt was shaped for me."

"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."

"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."

"and nobody will touch me, except you."

"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."

he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.

"cream all over my cock, princess. please."

he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.

"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."

you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.

"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."

your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.

jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.

my saviour, the young prisoner said.

yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.

2K notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Text

The Safeword is RadioApple (part 1)

I’m gonna go ahead and apologize right now

Lucifer x FemaleReader x Alastor

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, fem reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, cervix hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main

Minors dni

“Sir.”

Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.

“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”

“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”

But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”

With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”

“Daaad!” She groaned.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.”

Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”

Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.

He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your silk sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”

Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.

“Luci.”

Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.

It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.

Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.

You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more.

Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.

That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.

No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.

For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.

Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.

“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.

Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.

“You can say no.” You added quickly.

“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.

“Many reasons.” You added quicker.

“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.

You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.

“You what now?”

His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you.

“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed her.”

If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”

But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder.

“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.

You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”

Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.

Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.

“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my girl.’

“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”

He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest, hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.

Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”

He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you.

Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission.

Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises.

You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.

Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest.

You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”

A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.

Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.

He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin.

Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.

Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.

When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.

One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants.

“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.

Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”

“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.

“Three’s a crowd.”

“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, no preparation, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.

Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men.

“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek.

Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible.

Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft. He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.

“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.

Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—

“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?

“See? She can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself.

With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.”

Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your sopping cunt. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it.

When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.

Tempting.

But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms.

He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands.

Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time–

Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself.

Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again.

Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.

Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your clit with his middle finger. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your cervix with every kiss of his hips.

You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your jaw lock. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm.

With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed.

Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants.

“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you.

Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”

With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed walls.

“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci.

Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide between your folds with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it.

With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your lips. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn.

As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway.

Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn��t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon.

Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling doe.

What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.

What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?

Your nails cut into his skin, and you were sure you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your hole got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths.

Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead.

You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt.

Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected.

As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.

Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.

He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.

Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would wretch shut, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper.

It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.

Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.

Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.

The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If she needs you to stop, she’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever she can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your pussy clenched around him earned you a hiss.

He began to move again, the new position causing him to rub against your clit as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more.

“Are you sure she isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.

“Nonsense. Can’t you feel her? Or does she just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.

You tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back.

Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.

He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before.

He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were soaking wet, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock threatening to push past your cervix. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning.

You could feel him spreading open your womb. The feeling of your cunt pressing down on him from all sides including the front was driving him mad.

You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Screams that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.

A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.

An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.

The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.

As Luci became lost in the sensation of your wet pussy trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.

Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”

Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.

The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”

Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised womb.

Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.

Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.

Second, rage.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you.

“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”

Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.

“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.

You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.

Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”

But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”

Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.

There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

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youryanderedaddy · 2 months

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Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend

tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark

It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.

"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.

"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.

"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"

You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.

"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"

You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.

"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.

"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.

"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.

"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"

"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"

He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.

"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.

But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.

"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."

You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.

"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."

"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

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yawnderu · 6 months

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Currently obsessed with dbf!Keegan... like just imagine the scary dog privileges that come with having this man around. He doesn't even wear the balaclava or eyeblack when he's out, but just his creepy ass 🔵🔵 eyes are enough to scare off anyone who even looks your way. Like okay, we see them son. You can blink now.

And don't even get me started on how annoying this man would be. Pulling your hair to annoy you, flipping you off, pushing you out of the way and looking over his shoulder with the most annoying shit-eating grin that makes you want to actually punch him dead in the windpipe. Not to mention he'd totally see you struggling to open a jar and go "allow me" just to tighten it up more.

Absolute nightmare driver. He may take you out everywhere, but no one is an atheist when Keegan is driving and you really want to tell him, but he always keeps his gun on him.💀

BUT despite all the banter, his protective instincts kick in super easily with you. Someone is mean mugging you? He's glaring back. Someone says anything mean to you? He'll deal with it. God help any man who tries to flirt with you or catcalls you. He teaches you how to defend yourself since he won't always be there to protect you, often deployed in missions. I can also see him teaching you how to shoot a gun, just in case you ever need to. He takes you to a random field and teaches you the basics, and once you're confident enough, maybe he even takes you hunting.

I can see the dad being a disabled veteran who served with Keegan(?) simply happy to have some help with you, knowing Keegan can take you places and do things he can't do anymore. Despite you being an adult, I'm a sucker for father-daughter fluff, so the dad has def cried in secret whenever you show him new things you learnt or show him pictures of places Keegan took you to. Of course, he's not excluded, always hosting dinners and BBQs in the house whenever Keegan is back, and trying to join both of you if possible.

Keegan is like an annoying older brother, the type of man who makes you believe murder should be legal, yet you still deeply care for. He doesn't keep any things on him that may be linked to your father or you in fears of him being a ghost putting you in danger, but he has a bunch of polaroids in a safe in his house, which he looks at whenever he's off base and feeling down.

Speaking of pictures, you totally forced him to get into a photo booth with you and he now keeps the fucking ugliest pictures ever, threatening to ask a ghost to hack into your account and post them whenever you're being too annoying.

IF things ever go further between both of you, you can count on this man to slonk your shit silly style like sloppy swag. This man has a lot of pent-up frustration, which he only takes out on you after making sure you're okay with it.

He's a bully. Stops thrusting when you're feeling good just to hear you whine, thrusting painfully slow until you're begging for more.

There's definitely guilt when it comes to being intimate with you, despite you being in your mid-20s, you're the daughter of his best friend. It feels wrong, so he makes up for it by treating you extra good. You got spoiled before, but now? Prepare for the most extra and expensive gifts you never even thought about. He earns good money, and has plenty of savings just in case. He's still annoying, though.

#cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #keegan russ #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #keegan smut #keegan cod #keegan russ smut #keegan p russ x reader

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blkgirl-writing · 5 months

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The massive list of SFW and NSFW Gale Dekarios headcanons

Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Gn! for the most part)

A/N: the more I write Gale, the more in love with him I am. I started this before patch 5 and haven't been able to play it myself, so whoopsies if I just have to make another one of these. Lots of requests included in this one, to be expanded on later!

Gale is the most caring partner in the whole group. Followed by karlach and Wyll

He would much rather do everything for you than anything for him

This means he often over extends himself for you and you have to convince him to let you help him

Quality time and words of affirmation are his main love languages. All he wants is time alone with you, and he will do so much to make that happen

Gale actually sets up his tent to be as comfortable as possible because you don't have your own tent, and he doesn't mind at all if you sleep in his

eventually you basically just sleep in his tent exclusively, platonically at the moment. Sleeping on other sides or with a blanket between you

It isn't until you wake up from a particularly bad nightmare that your accidental touches aren't followed by apologies. Not quite embracing but not flinching away

He held you that night, wrapping his arms around you, his hands were big, soft, and comforting. He didn't speak until you did, who knows how long that was. All he said was "You're safe. It's ok."

────⊱⁜⊰────

He truly believes he doesn’t deserve you and that weighs kind of heavy on him

That shows in his body movements, confidence, still hesitant to be close to you physically in an extremely subtle way

With more flirting, more talking, more late nights close together, but still apart, still a gap in your embrace

Gale is still in touch with his sexuality and sex, but sex is different than love making. And he knew, when he fully let you in, when he’s finally stable and his mind, body, and soul were ready, he’d make love to you

Your first time together was for the most part, pretty talked through. You set your boundaries and safe word pretty fast

He’d stop at some point, pull back and just admire you

Stop is used lightly because he’s definitely still inside you and just very slowly still pumping in and out of you

“You’re absolutely ravishing.”

And he’d give himself fully to you

Gods he’d be all over you after, so touchy, even if not sexual in nature, any tough felt electric

Gale holds your waist more than your hand, it feels more romantic, showing you off to the world as someone that chose him. It’s really sweet, the first time he does it, he hand trembled a bit, he thought he was smooth enough for you not to tell but you could definitely feel it

Don’t get me wrong, he is confident and cocky at times, everyone knows that. But with you somehow, he feels nervous that you deserve more than he could give

Part of your early relationship is making sure he knows he’s wanted and loved and more than anything you could have wished for

────⊱⁜⊰────

Cuddling is always fun because it usually end up with fucking

If you’re the big spoon? He becomes such an angel and snuggles into your touch

If he’s big spoon he’s immediately turned on by everything, you being so close into him, your ass pressed against him, so many beautiful places for him to touch

Always ends in side fucking, just pulling your underwear down just enough to grind his cock on your bare ass

It’s also just convenient and easy if you’re getting busy while the others are sleeping in camp

But many days your time has you weak and just ready for rest, but you're both more horny than tired

that's when mutual masturbation becomes a daily routine, which never really leaves, even when you aren't as tired and have more privacy

he likes you call you his cherished work of art, seeing you spread for him is like a painting

────⊱⁜⊰────

One night in baldurs gate, you stay up into the morning drinking and talking in a bar, they only kicked you out when they literally were an hour last close, keeping it open because you had bought so much

It was literally anything, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Past pets, stupid haircuts growing up, embarrassing failures

That was the night everyone else really realized how deeply in love you two were

Like sure there was romance but real true love, with sparks

They absolutely made fun of you when you finally stumbled to your camp and passed out all day crammed into the small one person beds

I like to believe Astarion drew a stick figure version of y’all’s sleeping position to make fun of you when you woke

────⊱⁜⊰────

Once you’ve moved in with him he gets more and more turned on by you every day

You could be doing nothing and he’d grab your thigh and give you such a dirty look of lust

Not even three months in and ya'll have fucked on every surface possible, knocked over many books, and accidentally broke a vase and a bit in the shower

For the most part, your cozy days consist of him reading, and you beside him, feet resting on his lap

If you're a bard, of course he's going to ask you to practice and play around him and while you relax together, his favorite sounds all come from your sweet melodies

if you drink you definitely share a bottle of wine throughout the day

When Gale get's tipsy he just gets lovey and nerdy

telling you about a favorite bit of history or a spell, interrupting himself to compliment you "Gods you're beautiful, have I told you that today, dear?" and "And that's how the stars fell in love with- that top is stunning my love, mind if I take it off?"

cooking is fun yet very stressful unless he has a drink in hand

it's his kitchen and he's not used to company in it, so he often bumps into you or doesn't know where to say something is, so he just ends up getting it for you

I have a feeling this man is super into coffee and the roasts

like he's an absolute snob over it. A whole glass cupboard is dedicated to bags of coffee from where ever he travels

"Just too dark of a roast, it muddies the hazelnut flavor" (yes I believe he's a whole bean light roast lover)

Maybe you get a normal, non-speaking cat for yourself and just to have a bigger family in your home

I'd imagine a very reckless black or ginger cat who tara takes a VERY long time to love

but it's your and Gales cat. It's a thing you own together and love dearly

There's also a self of cards, board games, etc, for your date nights in

Gale legitimately is just as happy if you win than if he, if not more happy for you

He often takes a while to take his turn because he's distracted by you

super sweet but makes games feel much longer

────⊱⁜⊰────

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

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kiss-me-muchoo · 5 months

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𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: I knew you were trouble // part two: would’ve could’ve should’ve

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_The Capitol's Dream girl was depressed. After Snow broke her heart and returned only to haunt her. It only takes an official marriage proposal on New Year's Day, an interview with Lucky Flickerman and a rebel bombing to completely break you, and make Snow realize there's a place for one last person to love for the rest of his life.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ 10k words fic ups, reader is depressed, blood, violence, angst, tears, drama, reader makes some cruel things, antidepressants, nothing wild but they have sex so mdni 18+ , Snow actually loves reader (well idk). I couldn't add anything about the games of Mags SORRY.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is Would've Could've Should've, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist. Also, listen to the 1 and memory lane!!!

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

____________________________________

Nights were longer now. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of the games, how you contributed. The vivid image of the first time you saw Clemensia after the snake bite. Your mind made you recreate Sejanus being hanged in District 12. And finally, your mind also made you replay every moment you had with Coriolanus Snow since you met him at 17.

You wished you never asked to sit with him at lunch. You wished you never asked to see him again.

He would've been just another classmate. If the things that happened in the 10th Hunger Games were meant to be, at least you wouldn't have been involved.

It wouldn't have hurt you enough to feel so miserable in the present.

But this was as good as it was going to get.

You weren't the best driver, but since very few people had a car, you dared to take the one your chauffeur was meant to. It distracts you from staring at the window and overthinking.

Sometimes you wonder how it would've turned out if Snow won the prize without being a mentor, just like it was planned to happen. Would you have made a stop at his place? For him to get inside your car and kiss you good morning. Then drive to the University of the Capitol? Could've been fun.

But you made your way alone. Only listening to the music that played on the radio.

And you wondered what would've happened if Arachne was alive, Sejanus too, and Clemensia was fine to take classes in person. Would they have made fun of you and Snow entering University holding hands? Could've been sweet.

But again, you were alone. It's a cloudy day at The Capitol. Your long emerald green coat gets stuck with the car door. You roll your eyes, opening the damn door once again to set free the piece of fabric.

You started wearing high heels. It made you look taller and you loved the sound every time you stepped out of your home. Your mother had launched a new collection, and she loved seeing you wearing her creations.

For the record, you haven't seen Coriolanus Snow since the day you had your first counselor appointment. That was a month ago, and it was… great.

Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…

A lot of people greeted you, but none were your friends. You see, the University isn't very different compared to the Academy. The same architecture, and familiar faces that no longer wear the red uniform. And even so, you feel like a fish out of water.

Life isn't perfect. But you weren't ready to start your young adult days feeling so out of breath.

"Y/n!…" you turn to encounter Persephone. A sweet girl from the Academy.

"Persephone. Hi…" You do your best to smile. She was a classmate from the Academy. And she never was your friend but you always thought she was so sweet.

"How have you been? You're all over the news" For the first time in weeks you giggle, feeling a little blushed. The feeling of someone asking you how you were doing felt so good.

"I've had better days. But here we are… And you?" She tilts her head.

"I visited my grandma's lake house in District 4. It was so good. I heard you're in the science and law program" you nod. You also knew Persephone was on the law program.

"Yeah, you're in law too…."

"Is Coriolanus going to be there too?" You stop smiling.

In fact, you weren't sure. But probably he would also be in law. Tigris once said he wanted to pursue politics.

"I'm not sure… We-…we don't talk anymore" she gasped in shock.

"What? Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"

"No. But it's fine. He must be doing great…" you cut her off before she can ask more questions.

Your first class was okay. Until Snow walked in, wearing a perfect dark blue suit. His silly hair looked slightly longer than the last time you saw him, but still, nothing compared to his messy hair from months ago. You pretend you didn't see him, opting to keep writing something in your journal. But he had to stop beside you. There are some minutes of silence, but nothing would make you turn to knowledge of his presence.

"Can I sit with you?" His voice is colder again. You can notice through a little glimpse of a white rose decorating his suit. But you keep your eyes set on the page in front of you.

And you know you won't fail again.

"No."

He can feel the venom in your voice.

"I'm sitting here." He says after all.

You really don't have time to tear up on the first day of University. You want to stand up and leave, but you're so mature that you won't say anything else.

At least, for the rest of the class, he doesn't say anything else, but you know he occasionally turns to see you.

"Is it gonna be like this forever?" He asks when it's over. You dare to see him in the eyes, enchanting blue as always. But the young man in front of you isn't the boy you met. And yet, he still made your heart beat like he was the same who was once your lover.

"I don't have time for this. Have a nice day, Snow'' he looks as you leave the classroom. His hands shook, and that feeling of guilt assaulted him once again. You are the proof alive of all the pain he caused. So he needs to have you back on his side, so he can feel some humanity remaining in him after all the things he did months ago. Because he knows there's no good left on him, but he can't get rid of you like he did with Sejanus, Highbottom… and Lucy Gray.

You were meant for him. But he was so infatuated with the other girl. And Snow was aware that you deserve the best. You were his ally since day one. So having you by his side again… would seal his imaginary pact.

He looks at you and sees the girl that gave him the chance of his life. He promised his grandma'am you would be the girl he would give a home and a family.

But now, every time he asked Tigris how you were, she avoided giving details. grandma'am was growing suspicious that things weren't going great. Tigris had been a lot of times on your house and mother's shows. Your father would ask for Coriolanus but he didn't know all the things the young man did to his daughter.

So Tigris would say he was still serving as a peacekeeper. And you, you would say you haven't talked a lot with him.

Not anymore. Coriolanus would try every day. As he denied he loved you, he pretended he needed you as you were the one. Just that.

…

"Y/n y/l/n." Suddenly a peacekeeper comes to you.

"Yes?" You ask politely.

"Dr. Gaul demands your presence in her laboratory" you sigh. Of course, she would be the first to ask to see you.

It was the same laboratory. Only that now was near. The way to get there was slow, even peaceful. Maybe because the day was almost over.

The first thing you notice is how many empty water tanks are scattered.

"There you are, Ms. Y/l/n" she appears from the crystal stairs at the end of the room. Wearing a yellow set that made her eyes more bright. Her hair is the same. Looking as evil and cynic as always.

"Dr. Gaul" you greet. Stopping some feet away from her.

"A school new year means new planning ahead" You nod. Already hearing what she was about to say. Well, not entirely.

"The last games were a mess. Between the rebels and Mr. Snow's bright decisions. Our central ideas couldn't be fulfilled. However, I decided to give him another chance, there's so much potential in that boy" You don't know how to feel about that. So you just remain quiet.

"Speaking of the devil…" when you turned back, Snow was walking towards you and the woman near you. Immediately you avoided his eyes, knowing he was probably looking at your dress. The coat was long gone, leaving a soft and accentuating pink dress with long sleeves.

He knew it was inappropriate. But ever since he gained your trust and his feelings of attachment to you, he had a long time to accept he had a thing for your hips. The dress was extremely simple but looked elegant with some bright exotic earrings, and it was your body that created the most attractive shape he'd ever seen.

And soon, his view of you became sided.

"I believe I don't need to remind you of your actions from the last games, Mr. Snow," the woman said.

"It won't happen again." He answered with confidence.

"I know it won't happen again," Gaul says laughing. Making you wonder how much time she had been trying to get into the position she was now.

"This year, let's say you'll be under probation, Mr.Snow. On the other hand, Ms. y/l/n. Another year and another success from you" his eyes were on you again. Turned to his left without shame. And that's when Snow remembered since he came back from District 12 how smart you were. Without saying anything, even avoiding it, you knew he had cheated on the games. And probably, without talking to him anymore, you knew he wasn't a good man.

Only that…slowly, you were also turning into a bad woman.

"Those water creatures are fully developed. They're nothing compared to the snakes from last year. This new invention has marked a new era for us…" To be honest, you don't know how to feel about it. Everything related to the games made you remember your dear friend Sejanus Plinth. He would've hated this creation from you. But on the bright side, this was your future. These were the constant obstacles you would have if you were to achieve success.

"Dr. Gaul. An emergency message has been sent to y/n y/l/n" Immediately you turned confused looking at a new peacekeeper. When you look at your mentor, she nods, indicating to you that you're allowed to leave.

"Excuse me." As you walk away, another peacekeeper has a cable phone. One of the newest wireless ones. Red and shiny, silently beeping. You can hear Snow asking Dr. Gaul something, but the sound of your heels is loud enough to make it difficult to understand as you reach the phone

The peacekeeper hands the cable phone. You pick up, feeling your heart pounding.

"Hello?" The low breathing of your mother can be heard.

"Darling! Something bad happened…"

"What?" You ask. And you don't know but Snow is trying so hard to listen to your conversation.

"Our mines in District 12. Your father made a little trip there with some friends. The people caused a revolt. They bombed the mines." You frown, in shock. Already feeling anger building up in your chest.

"Is pa' okay?" She sighs, which stresses you more.

"Some burns. The peacekeepers saved him on time" Snow listens to Gaul but he literally has an ear on you and the other in the mentor.

"Is it too bad? Like… putting our wealth in danger?" You whisper the last sentence. Your mother is a proud woman. But in the privacy of her family, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.

"I don't know, darling. We still have the mines in District 1. But the ones on the 12 represented greater materials" There's no time to cry and you know it.

So after some soothing words to your mother, you hang up. And you're not thinking clearly. You just know you're angry, and convinced someone had to pay. If you started disliking District 12 after the last games, now it was getting personal.

When you go back to stand beside Snow. You hear Gaul explaining to him how most of the lessons would go. But as soon as she turns back to you, there's an idea that leaves your mouth before you can breathe or blink.

"I was about to say that we should change the arena of the games. Each year it should change, like the seasons. Wasting the opportunity to use the water mutts sounds like a waste of potential for the views. If we still want a spectacle like the one from last year." The woman analyses your words. And after some seconds of silence, she speaks.

At the same time, Snow can't comprehend how poisonous you sound. He knew the call enraged you, it must've been bad.

"Then I'll ask you to find some suggestions for the arena"

"And… I have some ideas for this year Reaping" the woman's evil smile grows. She knows she's turning two young adults into monsters.

"I can't wait till Summer of next year" Gaul giggles, then lets you go, commenting that the next day the actual lessons would begin.

You sigh once she leaves. Finally acknowledging what you just did. Dooming a bunch of kids to fight for their lives with those water monsters. You remember Sejanus. The way he screamed in anger when his tribute was punished for trying to escape.

You're also a monster.

Snow turns to your side, looking as if you have just been cut with something, and he's searching for the wound.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks worriedly, caressing your forearm.

"Your beloved district 12. That's what happened." You spit with venom, squirming away from him.

Your harshness takes all over the place as you move away from him.

…

It's New Year's Day. A bright morning, and you already have your first guest. Clemensia Dovecote.

She still wears turtlenecks. But the gloves are gone. You can't stop smiling after seeing her smile and laugh as she drinks tea on your patio.

"I can't believe it worked, y/n," she says changing the subject. The first dose you gave her was after the games, in late summer. And now, at the peak of winter, Clemensia looked amazing. The cracked and raspy yellowish skin she had, the bright yellow eyes that contrasted her dark brown irises, all of that was mostly gone.

"To be honest, me neither…" you admit smiling proudly. Her skin looked slightly covered in scales, but the texture was soft. Like a snake that shines with a new layer of skin. Her eyes were still a little yellow, but the white was coming back.

"How did you come up with it? The treatment and everything?" you gulp nervously, sipping at your tea. If you opened your mouth, there would be no turning back.

Clemmie knew Snow had cheated, she swore to keep quiet about it. She knew about his exile. But she didn't know everything.

Then you thought you owed nothing to Snow. He owed you a lot, and yet, the way he paid was… cruel.

The only thing you were not in your right to share was about… the boy he killed. And as you'd never know he killed many more, Clemmie wouldn't either.

"He chose her. The songbird" Clemensia's eyes widened, she left the cookie she was about to eat.

"No…" you nod, confirming your words.

"Yes. During the games… he sacrificed everything for her. When I confronted him, he said nothing. After he was exiled, he committed a bribe to ensure his service as a peacekeeper on the 12" you spit with hate. The pride you carried each day, had a big crack thanks to that man, and like broken porcelain, it would never be healed.

"But he only had eyes for you… The Christmas after you arrived here, I asked him out and he said he had eyes on someone else. I can't believe him…" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

"He only had eyes for my money and father's position. He had the chance to win the prize and got obsessed with winning something by himself. The girl was just the cherry on top" You quickly added more as you were about to reveal he was… poor. Not because of him, but for Tigris and her grandmother. Tigris would lose her job and your mother would likely turn her down. So no, you weren't as bad as Snow yet.

"After he left. I realized how much he traced the scar on my face. I simply started hating it. And sooner I dreamed I had it gone. So I thought… Why can't I make something for my dear Clemensia and myself at the same time?" The black haired inspected your face.

"Your scar…" she remembered your face back then. The long pink line across your face. Clemensia did once see Snow caressing your face, his thumb traced the line across your nose until it landed on your lips.

Not it was just a memory as your scar. It was gone. Your face is clean, shiny, and perfect. Too bad that just your face was able to get rid of the touch of Snow.

You can't tell her he asked you to marry him. That was embarrassing enough to say it out loud.

"That's now the boy I knew. He had always been a little cold but… he was good. Now… I just can't stand what he did to you. And while I'll thank you for the rest of my life, you helped with my condition. I will ever feel sorry that you came up with it from such pain" Maybe before the bite, Clemmie was a little narcissistic. And her ambition led her to lie and get bitten. But now, she was all about being thankful and seeking peace everywhere.

"It's okay, Clemmie. Even after all, with Sejanus gone, all of what happened last summer… I'm happy that I have you" she smiles, offering you a big hug.

"Yeah, you won't get rid of me next year" She was officially coming back to class at the University after the winter break was over. Now Snow wouldn't be able to sit next to you.

"I won't mind…" Suddenly your mother comes out from one of the many balconies of your house.

"Girls! The stylist is here!" She lets you and Clemmie know.

This year, the annual New Year's Day will be at your house. The patio where you had breakfast and tea with your friend was already decorated with long tables. Porcelain plates are perfectly accommodated with wine velvet bows decorating them.

Clemensia's father talks with you about the revolt in District 12 and the burns he got. After that… more peacekeepers were sent. And slowly… the whole territory was becoming marginalized.

You ignore it, you only have eyes for the dress writing you on the other side.

When you open the door of your room, there it is.

A golden dress. Shinny and full of sequined beats. With metallic gold puffy fabric resting on your lower half back and ending around your wrists. Bare shoulders style.

You feel bad for not asking Tigris to style you, but she was already busy.

"I... I can't believe this…" you gasp, touching the elegant fabric of the dress. Clemmie can't stop saying how beautiful the dress is.

"With red lipstick and burnt pink eyeshadows… it'll look fantastic," the stylist says to your mother, already visualizing the look.

…

The patio is full of people. Elegant bonfires make everyone warm. Most of the guests look at your dress as you greet them. The last guests were Tigris and her grandmother, you placed them both in a table full of fashion contacts of your mother.

Clemmie is talking with Festus, Persephone, and other classmates.

Everything goes well until you set your eyes on the garden's entrance and you spot Snow entering.

Your eyebrows immediately frown. The night had been peaceful. And ever since winter break started, you haven't heard of him.

Why did he have to come? Was it for his grandmother?. Doesn't matter, you don't want him in your house.

He spots you and knows you just turned angry. You grab him by the arm and pull him away.

"What are you doing here?" You ask annoyed.

"You invited Tigris and Grandma'am" he shrugs.

"Yes. Tigris and Grandma'am. Not Tigris, Grandma'am, and Coriolanus" For the first time in months, you say his name.

"I have to talk to your father," he admits. You are confused, but he won't say anything yet.

"You look lovely tonight" You ignore the praise in his voice. But he genuinely believes you look astronomically beautiful. Snow was trying to act confident, but deep down he was nervous.

And it worsened when your dad interfered.

"Coriolanus. I'm glad you made it on time. Just an hour away till the countdown" you turn to see your father, offering him a glass of champagne. Neither of you should be drinking yet. But the elite of The Capitol was allowed to break the rules a little.

"No, of course I couldn't. I was just saying how gorgeous y/n looks tonight" your father smiles. You knew your father was believing Snow, that he was a gentleman.

"My one and only child. Perfect as always…" your father answers, putting his arm around your shoulders.

"I would like to discuss something with you. In private…" your heart beats faster.

"Be my guest, boy…" he tells him to enter the party. And as they leave you feel nauseous.

…

There are twenty minutes left till New Year's Day. Your father hasn't come out with Coriolanus yet. You nervously want to chew your nails. But you do your best for Clemmie. It was her first public appearance since the summer.

You had been trained to satisfy The Capitol's expectations since you were a kid. You knew what you could and couldn't do.

But none had prepared you to hide your shock.

"Dear guests. Family and friends. I would like to give an announcement" Your father appears, the sound of the glass capturing everyone's attention.

"With a new year around the corner, changes are too."

It couldn't…

Snow walked through the tables, towards you.

No, no, no, no.

"It is my pleasure to announce the engagement between Coriolanus Snow and my only daughter, y/n"

You swear you can't breathe.

You don't see Clemmie's face of horror. Tigris is highly confused. Grandma'am at the verge of tears.

"For my darling and her fiancé. Whom I wish eternal luck and happiness" your father finishes the toast.

Snow is beside you, he's not happy either. But he is the first one to start acting for the sudden flashes and cheering.

"How couldn't you tell me you wanted to get married, dear?" Your father asks, being the first person to hug you.

Your shock is so big that you don't even remember smiling for the pictures. You don't remember feeling his hand around your shoulders. You don't remember bursting into the house.

Snow follows you. It's empty, everyone is cheering because the countdown is about to start.

He calls your name. But you don't listen. He follows you through the kitchen and living room.

"WHAT?" You explode before being able to go upstairs.

You see his desperate eyes.

"I didn't know your father was going to announce it that way." He notices your face is red from anger.

"Listen to me, Coriolanus Snow. NO MAN will come and take away the pride of the woman I am." You scream in his face. You won't go quiet like the first time.

"YOU WERE NOTHING!. YOU OWE ME YOUR LUCK!" Snow can only fix his eyes on the sequins of your dress. He had never seen you screaming like that. And nobody would hear anyway.

"If this was your way to make me surrender and get me back. You're so wrong. Because you are going to be in debt with me for the rest of your life. Unless you want a rebel wife like it was your beloved Lucy Gray Baird." His eyes widened at your sudden attack. He has to process every word, every disgusted face you are making. He hadn’t thought about the songbird in many days. Hearing her names sent chills to his spine.

"I wanted this to be different. I had to "You hate him. You can't stand seeing him in his perfect grey suit, his perfect hair and eyes. You really hate him.

"YOU HAD NOTHING!. IF YOU WERE GONNA HUMILIATE ME LIKE THAT, YOU HAD TO GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG TO MARRY ME!" Whisking away, he grabs your hand, and when you turn, you find him on his knees.

"Please…" you feel he placed the ring in your hand. And it's too much.

You slap him. And then run away to your room.

As you lock the door, you throw the ring. And when tears start streaming down like a waterfall, you hear the first fireworks.

There's a bottle of pills in your vanity. The treatment for your low mood. You only need it once in a day. But you take two hoping it would knock you out and make you forget about the night.

It's officially a new year.

…

Three weeks later, Lucky Flickerman is interviewing you and Snow in his late-night show. You can't stand how Snow is caressing your hand. The way he slightly giggles and smiles at you, whenever there is a silly question.

You only do this because nobody knows the truth. Just Clemensia and Tigris.

"Sources tell us that it'll be a spring wedding. Is that right, y/n?" The man asks. You sigh, smiling.

'We're not sure yet, Lucky. There are so many details. Especially with my dress. But my man here is patiently waiting" the interviewer laughs, throwing a sarcastic comment about the dress.

"And what about kids? Is a baby on the plans?" Immediately, both of you blush.

"Yes. We want to have kids one day" Snow hurries to answer. You want to laugh.

He would be a terrible father. Some days ago, he was at your house for a family gathering and while he liked seeing you with your baby cousins, he knew he wasn't good with them. He didn't know how to play or make them laugh. But he had to make everyone believe he was a man of family and marriage. Even when both of you were still nineteen.

"Oh. Well, you're still young. There's plenty of time, pair of lovebirds" You make the strength to turn and smile at Snow. He returns you the smile.

And he wants to believe it's an honest reaction from you. He really hates that everything happened this way. He wanted to wait personally and privately ask you to marry him again. Not like this.

"Y/n… How did you know Coriolanus was the one?" It takes you aback. You can't lie. There's a truth.

"When I met him, he made me feel comfortable. He was so sweet and he trusted me. He made it hard for me not to love him. He has these gorgeous ocean eyes, that every time I see him I get lost in them. It reminds me of the kind boy I met some time ago…" Everyone feels emotional. Coriolanus is aware of the real meaning behind your words, and he can't help but honestly smile. He knows he realized it, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"These ladies and gentlemen… is a couple in love!" Lucky laughs and points at you and Snow excited. And he says that he'll be back with the broadcast for the weather, he thanks you and your fiancé for being there.

"Take care, guys. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!, I'll get some people inside to bring the news anyways…"

And finally, both of you are behind the set. You don't even glance at Snow. But he hurries to stop you, interfering in your way.

"I'm sorry. For everything…" you cross your arms.

"No. You hate me. That's why you keep doing this to me…"

Your assistant appears handing you a glass of water and a little plate of something Snow can't see.

"Here's some water and your antidepressants, miss" You blush and ignore the way your fiancé is looking.

As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.

…

You stare at the public library. Now closed just for your wedding happening in a couple of hours.

There are white roses everywhere. Petition of your mother to commemorate Snow and his family. You hated it.

It ended up being a spring wedding. But a very cold one. By early June, summer would start. And for now, snowflakes still fell upon The Capitol.

"The dress is ready…" Tigris says, appearing on your side. She sees how you stare at the whole place with dismay.

"How could this happen?" She asks, wondering.

"My younger self would've loved this day. But now… is different" You didn't want to insult her cousin.

"His younger self would've also loved this" Tigris remembered how enchanted was Coriolanus for you. Saying that he made a rich friend who was so sweet. Soon he admitted you were gorgeous and delicate. Now forgetting to mention you only when Grandma'am asked.

"He's trying to get you back," Tigris adds. And you question it.

Ever since the engagement. He always reached for you. Asking how you were. The kisses on the cheek to greet you. Felt honest. But you doubted you would ever forgive him. Even if you ended up having his children someday…

"I know it won't change anything. But I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this…" the young woman lamented. After you confessed most of the things Snow did to you, she added that to her list. And slowly, Tigris had slightly brushed aside her cousin.

"I didn't. But what's pissing me off is the wedding night" Tigris coughed awkwardly. And you rolled your eyes.

"No, Tigris. It's not about the sex. It's about me having to leave my house forever. I refuse…" She relaxed.

Honestly, you hadn't thought about sex. You knew it would happen anytime after marrying. But you wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction to even give hints.

At least, your father suggested Snow temporarily move in with you in your room since his new penthouse would be only for Tigris and grandmother. He would sleep in your tub.

"It's a great place for a honeymoon. Capitol's north is full of mountains, fancy restaurants, and actual snow" Somehow, you laugh.

"Fitting for my new legal name" Tigris joins you and laughs, hugging you tightly.

You stare at the flowers, and the hundreds of seats, and you aren't ready. But there's a smile on your face. Because at that point you don't even care.

…

Coriolanus was alone. He thinks Sejanus could've been there. Annoying and smiley as always, but he would've been the best man. Chosen by him because there wasn't another option. But it's only him. Staring at his mother's ring.

Pure gold, a medium size rectangle-shaped diamond. Shining ridiculously in white and small rainbows.

You look just like your father on his wedding day.

Your mother was so happy. Spinning and laughing as your father danced with her.

Remember. As you take a wife, you are choosing a life partner. You have to remember every morning why you chose her. You have to respect and protect her. Give her a home, a warm place to grow old together.

Y/n is the perfect woman for you. She's so lucky to have you, my boy.

All of those things, Grandma'am had said to him as she handed the ring.

And now sitting alone in a room. Suit ready, in black, and very little gold details in the white shirt under. Tigris said it was going to match your dress.

Your father actually loved your mother, Coriolanus. Treat her right. That is the least you could do…

She knew. Tigris had to know everything.

Coriolanus wondered how you would look. A princess-style dress? Maybe velvet? And he imagined your face.

That's when he can't take it anymore. He cries. Because everything was going to be a lie. He cries because it could've been true. If only he had made better decisions. If only you weren't so smart that you discovered him.

He's a broken man.

But he grips the ring on his palm. Wiping the tears and deciding that he's never going to fail you again. As he knew you had never failed him. And even when you hated him, neither you would.

…

There are three mirrors. Your hands trace the shiny beats of your dress. From the strips to your breasts, to your waist and hips. The end was full of them. Combining gold, and even dark brown or grey. It was simple, slightly sheer. But extremely elegant. Made with crystals from your family's mines. Representative of your native District 1. Your hair is down, perfectly cut in that shag haircut you had when you were a teen. It fits perfectly with your veil. Also covered in tiny pieces of crystals that cover your head, to the tail of the dress.

You looked like a Capitol's bride.

And for some reason, you can't find the tears. It's just you staring at the mirrors. Accepting your doomed life.

As you open the door, you know there are already tears on everyone but you.

Clemensia, Persephone, your mother, and Tigris sob and look at you in shock.

"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.

They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.

"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.

"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.

She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.

"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.

Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.

"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.

"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.

"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.

"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.

"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.

"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.

Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.

"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.

"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.

…

The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.

Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.

For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.

He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?

Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?

Would you forgive him if that was the case?

You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.

You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.

You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.

And you can't turn to see him.

There are many people taking pictures of you and him.

Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.

When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.

"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.

It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.

You just see him and you realize he's your man now.

Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.

In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.

You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.

…

The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.

Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.

For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.

There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.

You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.

You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.

He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.

He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?

…

That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.

During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.

When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.

Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.

You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.

Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.

But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.

So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.

Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.

Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.

You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.

"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.

Then you lean, inches away from his lips.

" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.

He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.

You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…

It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.

Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.

Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.

And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.

All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.

And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.

Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.

Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.

…

At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.

Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.

The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.

You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.

Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.

Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.

"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.

He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.

You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.

"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.

He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.

Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.

He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.

"Thank you." You say to him.

"Of course."

After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.

When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.

He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.

He calls your name but you don't respond.

Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.

A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.

He runs and kneels beside you.

"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.

"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.

He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.

"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.

He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.

"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.

"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.

There's chaos on the streets.

And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.

"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.

A woman listens and calls for a man.

"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.

"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.

It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.

…

It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.

"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.

"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.

The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.

"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.

"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.

He kisses your forehead.

"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.

And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.

"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.

"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.

…

You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.

As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.

You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.

"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.

"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.

"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.

"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.

Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.

And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.

He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.

Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.

Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.

But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.

"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.

"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.

He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.

He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.

Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.

He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.

"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.

You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.

"I love you."

You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.

He's still smiling.

You know he killed two people, probably three.

You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.

You know he's not the best person.

You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.

You know he caused you so much pain.

And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.

"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.

"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.

"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.

"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.

"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.

"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.

"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.

"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.

"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.

"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.

"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.

He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.

And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.

And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.

Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.

…

The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.

You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.

"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.

And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.

"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.

"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.

"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.

"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.

"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.

"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.

Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.

You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.

Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.

Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.

Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.

I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.

You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.

Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.

And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?

Dr. Volumnia Gaul

No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.

So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.

There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.

When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.

The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.

Until you see what it is.

"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.

"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask

"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.

"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.

"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.

"They deserve this."

"You're right"

He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.

"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.

"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.

"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"

"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.

"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.

"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.

"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.

He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.

…

It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.

"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.

He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.

There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.

"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.

"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.

"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.

"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.

"Me neither…"

___________________________

Taglist: @sarnbarnes @user0440822 @poppyflower-22 @h-l-vlovesvintage @zxrcle @gloryekaterina @dakotali @especiallythewomenandthechildren @mymadokamagica @drvnkn-dazed

In my head… this was the wedding dress<3

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x sejanus #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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spacedace · 1 year

Text

So I've seen a lot of "Jazz works as a therapist at Arkam" in the dp x dc fandom, and while I like the concept, I also feel like Jazz would take one look at the place and immediately be like "what the absolute fuck" at just the everything of the place.

Like, she either nopes out after the tour during the interview or quits not too long afterward starting there, not because she can't take it but because she's so appalled by what's going on there and can smell the corruption rolling off the place and knows no one sent to there is ever actually going to get the help they need.

So Jazz decides to open a private practice instead while still being absolutely determined to work with the various rogues in the city, she is here to help and nothing is going to stop her.

So she just starts showing up at known hangouts of rogues and during their heists/schemes/sprees, and even fights between them and the batfam, just like

"Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! My name is Dr. Jasmine Fenton/Nightingale/whatever last name she’s using and I was hoping we could talk!"

Casually kicks a baterang away without looking because she's being polite and professional!

"I understand that your experience with therapy through Arkam has been nothing but atrocious and that you are rightfully -"

Kicks Batman away without breaking eye contact or a sweat.

"Suspicious of attempting therapy again, and Idon't want to force anything on you, therapy should be on your terms after the experiences you've had but -"

Grabs Robin out of the air as he leaps at the rogue she's talking to and tucks him under her arm, ignoring his feral hissing and all attempts to break her hold.

"-I really think that you'd find it beneficial, even if I'm not the right therapist for you."

The rogue in question is having the time of their life and takes Jazz's business card - and a few extra to pass around - not really intending to actually ever book a therapy appointment with her but way too entertained and excited to share this madness with everyone else.

But then one of the rogues actually looks up Jazz's website and sees all the various safe guards she’s put in place to ensure that any villians that come to her will be protected while seeing her - soundproof therapy room, regular sweeps for listening and tracking devices, the most insane firewalls and protections anyone has ever seen on her network, and ooh she provides snacks and drinks!

So someone finally books an appointment with her, half convinced she's either going to turn them in or is a villain herself intent to experiment on them, but then it’s actually really nice??? And they feel a lot better afterwards?? She doesn't even say anything to indicate that she wants them to stop being villains, she just wants them to be okay??

So more and more rogues start going to her, and Batman was already losing his mind about this woman before - Oracle can't hack her system?!? And her background check shows a totally normal Psychiatrist?? - but now half of Gotham's heavy hitters and a dozen or so other minor league villains are seeing her regularly and every time he tries to get info on any plans the rogues might be scheme via her office it fails utterly. Nightwing got knocked out with something called a creep stick and when he tried to break in himself to get answers she just appeared out of no where and gave him the most scathing lecture about doctor-patient confidentiality before bullying him off her property and threatening to sick her brother on him if he tried again?

And because she's become such a figure in the Gotham underworld, she gets the attention of Joker.

And everyone, rogues and Bats alike, are terrified that she’s going to try and take him on as a patient like she has so many other villains in the city and that's just a recipe for tragedy.

But then the Joker is on his way to the hospital with two broken legs and the fear of god beat into him babbling about eldritch nightmares and whenever anyone asks Jazz what happened she just shrugs and just says things like "I refused him as a patient, he's not my problem." Or "My brother doesn't like clowns." And just, does not elaborate.

Batman is losing his mind over it all. Jazz is just happy to be able to actually help the rogues. Arkam is less happy about how she absolutely destroys their reputation.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jazz fenton #batman #jazz becomes Gotham's favorite Psychiatrist for villains #Tucker is the one keeping her network secure #and maybe starts a small hacking war with oracle #the Joker showed up trying to turn Jazz into the next Harley Quinn and ended up face to face with a visiting Danny #Harley eventually recovers enough herself to get her license back and joins Jazz's practice #she works with civilians though because of all the conflict of interest with everyone else #weirdly anytime she has a patient who is dealing with someone abusing them the abuser mysteriously disappears #oracle #batfam #eldritch danny

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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months

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OK OK you just gotta hear me on this one,, Astarion and gn reader where reader is little spoon and Astarion can *sense* just how relaxed reader gets. Instead of their pulse racing from his touches they slow down. Muscles relaxed. Happy little sighs.

^^ he can’t handle this btw he’s absolutely fucking bewildered

A Person to Hold

Synopsis: Fluffy post-game epilogue

Tags: fluff

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

He looks at you, unable to stop smiling.

"They deserve happiness. We all do. And I will forever be grateful to have found it with you," Astarion says.

You make a step forward with open arms. Astarion hugs you, closing his eyes like a content cat.

A mere half year ago these hugs scared him. It was weird. It was scary. What did you want? Did you want to hurt him? Did you want his body?

No.

None of that.

You taught him not to be afraid. You hug him daily and if he occasionally flinches you don’t let him go. You hold him in your arms when he has nightmares and kiss away his tears when it's just too much.

"I feel bad keeping you all to myself! After all, I get to see you every night."

"Are you sure? You won't be bored?"

You kiss his cheek and leave. In a few seconds, you look back, trying to see if he hasn’t changed his mind.

"Darling, I can spend some time with myself. Go on, go and mingle. And I will be there, when you’re ready. I will always be here, my love."

He hasn’t. Astarion sits down beside a campfire sensing its warmth.

He doesn't feel like talking. He didn't manage to make friends with the others and now can sense hostility from them. He is a vampire. His strength isn’t suppressed by the tadpole and apparently once the vampire's master is dead, spawns become lesser vampires. Astarion doesn't feel the difference, to be honest, but he knows people feel something is off with him.

Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels good. He has never thought his head might be so clear. He can make a working ambush plan in a blink of an eye and it won't lead to a disaster because he actually can think everything through. He can walk on ceilings and walls again, he regenerates before you manage to notice he is wounded.

He has the world to explore, places to see, things to do. He is going to make up for all these decades of misery, to bury them under the pile of happy memories.

And he has you.

Probably the weirdest thing that could happen to him.

You, who forgave his lies and manipulations, who gave him the second chance when it was the stupidest thing to do. Who made him believe the world isn’t an evil place.

You are the first person he sees when returns from his reverie. Your breathing soothes him, so does your heartbeat.

Astarion never had anything. Everything he had a right to was stripped away from him including his own life.

But now he has you.

To hold, to kiss, to talk.

To travel together, to hunt monsters, to be independent adventurers. You are there to save him from nightmares. And he is there to save you from death.

How could he become so happy?

“I am going to sleep, are you with me or do you want to hunt?” he feels a soft “pat” on his shoulder.

How come he has you?

You are a bit drunk and very sleepy.

“Let’s go to the tent.”

“Good, I got used to sleeping with you by my side.”

Astarion looks around as if ashamed of what he is going to do and, having made sure no one sees you, takes you in his hands bridal-style.

You are weightless to him thanks to the vampiric strength. He could walk many miles carrying you and not getting tired.

In the tent, you get to your bedroll and immediately cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then, you open it a little, inviting Astarion to join.

He takes his clothes off and crawls to your side. The night is warm, so are you. But since you have to share your body heat with him, you sleep under the thickest fur blanket.

You are his and he is yours. If a year ago someone told him that would be his future he would bitterly laugh.

Astarion presses your back to his chest, placing the chin on your shoulder.

Your muscles relax, the pulse slows down. You are falling asleep in his arms.

"My love, thank you" he whispers in you ear, tugging you closer

“Hm?”

“Thank you for finding me."

You squeeze his hand. “You were worth it.”

He doesn’t want to meditate. He wants to hold you like that until you wake up. Astarion concentrates on your breathing and heartbeat. You are already sound asleep.

“Sleep well, darling,” he kisses your cheek. “We still have plenty of things to do together.”

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion angst #astarion drabble #astarion short fic #spacebarbarian fics #astarion fluff #astarion comfort #baldur's gate post game

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astarion-obsessions · 6 months

Text

I think not enough people understand that Astarion doesn't want you to be his main or only source of blood. This even stands in direct contrast to what he really wants to achieve with biting Tav. Let me explain.

Why Astarion doesn't want you to be his blood bag

Let me start with explaining how I approached this topic. First of all, when I triggered the bite scene in my playthrough, I obviously let Astarion drink from my Tav. But then I got curious. What happens when I don't stop him? He's said I could trust him just a moment ago, didn't he? So I did just that, I trusted him literally with my life.

Aaaand... he killed me. Well. What did I expect from a vampire, really. But that he actually drained me dry broke my heart. I really wanted to trust him, to reach out and show him that I didn't judge him for what he was and so on. I was really disappointed in him and couldn't quite grasp why he would do this. Was it a conscious decision? Did he lose control? Surely he would apologise and explain everything to me once someone resurrected me, returning the trust I was giving him the night prior, right?... right?

Of course not. The dialogue after him killing Tav was... at least as disappointing as him killing Tav in the first place. He shows his usual attitude, apologises half-heartedly and then just keeps going on with talking about draining the occasional bandit. He even snaps when you mention the topic of him feeding after that with something like "I already apologised, what more do you want?".

There's no real regret, no emotions. He simply doesn't care.

We know that he didn't care in the beginning, he tells us as much when he confesses his unwanted, growing feelings towards Tav in act 2. But still the whole bite scene didn't sit right with me until…

The Nightmare

I randomly stumbled upon a clip of Astarion having a nightmare, so I researched about it and even started an Astarion run to experience it myself. So, if you play as Astarion, at the second long rest of act 1 he has a nightmare about Cazador, in which he recites the rules that defined how Astarion and the other spawn had to live:

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.

Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

However Astarion reacts to this dream, he jolts awake afterwards and instinctively panics that he needs to find a way back to his master as soon as possible. His eyes set on his companions, who are sleeping / meditating peacefully around the fire, and then a thought passes his mind.

He could try to break one of Cazador's rules right then and there. He's able to stand in the sun, to bathe in running water, so maybe…

And that's why he decides to bite a companion. Astarion wakes up utterly terrified of what his master will do to him if he doesn't return to him in an instant - and he knows all too well what kind of horrors would await him if he so much as dares to think about rebelling again (read about that here) - so he is in desperate need of confirmation that he is now able to withstand and actively break the rules that have dominated his life for two centuries.

He needs to know that he is able to drink the blood of a thinking creature. And there they are. His clueless companions served on a silver platter. It's like an invitation to him, to test his boundaries. And who would be more fitting than the good hearted leader of the party Astarion wanted to (or already has) seduce(d) anyway?

This piece of information shed a whole new light on the bite scene. But let's look a bit closer at that.

The Bite Night

The very first thing Tav registers about what's going on with Astarion that night is him baring his fangs right above us, about to sink them into our flesh. He pulls back as soon as we open our eyes, retreating immediately until there's a safe distance between him and Tav.

This may be the first time Tav gets to know that Astarion is a vampire, so he gets defensive and tells us that he's never killed a person for food, only animals. But then, instead of letting the idea of feeding on Tav go, he insists that animals aren't enough.

But it's not enough. Not if I have to fight. I feel so weak.

If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please.

Then he goes on, literally pleading to get what he wants while putting on a sad expression in the end, even averting his gaze.

And if we now have in mind that he just woke up from a nightmare about Cazador, feeling powerless and in desperate need of even a glimpse of hope that he might escape Cazador's cruel grip, his lines make a lot of sense. He's veiling the truth, of course, but not all of what he says is a lie.

He indeed feels weak - powerless in fact - so drinking Tav's blood (the blood of a thinking creature) could prove that he may have regained a bit of power over himself, which had been exclusively reserved for Cazador the last 200 years. This would absolutely make him feel stronger, more confident than he's felt for a long, long time.

And he indeed could think clearer after tasting Tav's blood, because this would bring clarity to the question if he is now able to break Cazador's rules on purpose and therefore give him information to work with when he needs to think about what to do next.

Right after this, we get the chance to push into Astarion's mind, and if we do this, we can see what he thinks about.

His mind opens up, revealing cracked and quivering memories. At their heart, you see dark eyes, commanding you to feed.

You open your mouth and bite down. Not into a tender neck, but in the twisting body of a rat - the only thing your master lets you eat.

He recalls the memory of how his master used to force him to eat disgusting vermin. As his memory is told, we can clearly see how deeply this affects him, for he can't keep up his walls of defensiveness and detachment. They just crack, crumble and reveal his misery clearly for Tav to observe. When we ask him about it directly afterwards, he first seems to search for a way out - a witty remark, anything - but gives up almost immediately. And he looks and sounds just completely defeated and tired, confirming what Tav just saw in his mind.

He goes on with talking about trust. I think here he's seeing a chance to gain Tav's sympathy. If he already reveals such delicate information about his past, he can as well make use of it. So he appeals to Tav's understanding, offering us that this past is the reason for him only trusting Tav slowly. But then he immediately adds that now he trusts Tav, and that in return Tav can trust him, too.

What he does here is displaying himself as pitiful, gaining Tav's sympathy, then seemingly going out of his way and saying that despite all he does trust Tav, which puts Tav in the position to follow suit with returning the trust… which Astarion definitely lied about on his part. But that's what he does. Manipulating.

If we then respond with "You tried to bite me. How can I trust you?" instead of assuring us of his trustworthiness with more manipulation, he gets frustrated.

Because we don't have a choice! Not if we're going to save ourselves from these worms.

But he goes on with masking his reasons, even if he gave us a hint right in the beginning of act 1 when we picked him up, where he said that he would rather control the tadpole instead of removing it. If we play as Astarion, it gets clear pretty fast that he holds onto the tadpole, because it seems to be the only thing that had been able to "save" him from Cazador whilst no one and nothing else even attempted to help him for two centuries. Of course he would not want to get rid of the tadpole just like that. But he says so nonetheless to align with Tav's goals and display himself as useful.

And then he does something interesting.

I need you alive. You need me strong.

Please. Only be a taste, I swear. I'll be well, you'll be fine, and everything can go back to normal.

In the beginning of this conversation he mentioned he needed the blood to fight better. Now he takes up on this by saying that Tav needs him strong, hinting on him getting stronger after having a taste of Tav's blood. And then he promises that after this "everything can go back to normal", which right now means Astarion feeding on animals again.

A few things about this are odd.

Firstly, "only be a taste". Everyone, literally everyone has heard about the insatiable hunger of vampires. So how is it supposed to work that Astarion gets stronger from just a taste of Tav's blood? For how long? A few hours? Not nearly long enough to pose a real advantage, eh? For me this makes no sense. And if we think about his true intentions - wanting to find out if he can break Cazador's rule - just a taste would be absolutely enough. (And after he bites Tav without killing them, he even says that he needs something more filling!)

Secondly, if Astarion really wanted to become stronger with the help of Tav's blood, why would he promise to go back to normal afterwards? He just offered Tav a stronger companion but then immediately nullified this argument by literally saying that this will be a one time arrangement.

Thirdly, he subtly offers a bargain. "You give me your blood, I will be a stronger fighter for you." He did so in the beginning as well, repeating it with different words. And it fits his character very well to do so, because for all he knows everything comes with a price. He almost gets beaten to death and Cazador mercifully comes to his rescue? The price is a never ending life of torment and abuse. Astarion helps a potential victim for Cazador to flee? The price is a year of starvation, locked up in a dusty and dark tomb without knowing if it will ever find an end. Mindflayers rescued him from Cazador, (passively) granting him to possibly be free of him at last? The price is becoming a tentacled monster in the end.

If we then allow him to bite us, he's visibly surprised about our graciousness, but of course doesn't let this chance slip and suggests getting comfortable instantly. Then he finally gets to sink his teeth into Tav's neck. This part of the scene can more or less be viewed from both sides - Astarion's and Tav's.

He begins to feed on Tav and after a bit we can decide to interrupt him, but have to pass an ability check first. This repeats a second time when playing Tav, and even if it's only one AC when we play Astarion and decide to bite a companion, it still aligns, showing that Astarion seemingly loses himself in the taste of Tav's blood - which is very likely because (as he later tells us) we were the first humanoid he's ever fed on, so it's imaginable that Tav's blood must be tasting almost divine to him.

This theory is supported by his actions after we fail the first AC or just let him continue. He grabs the back of Tav's head to pull them towards himself, emphasising on how greedy he is sucking the blood out of Tav. The camera even uses the exact same angles before failing or skipping the first AC and after, so the comparison is easy and the difference is clear:

If we then fail or skip the next AC, Astarion just drains us dry… And it gets even better after the bite night.

The Morning After

When Tav gets revived and then talks to Astarion, he is visibly surprised to see us, after he left the dead body of Tav behind with saying "Oh no, something terrible has happened". Sure Astarion, something…

All of this happens when Astarion still doesn't care for Tav. He reacts with panic when we confront him with the fact that he literally killed us, and just manages to get his expression under control after a few seconds. I mean, just look at him:

'Killed' feels like a strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.

He definitely knows what he's done, and that 'killed' is indeed the right word for it, he is just very very bad at coping with guilt (which is amazingly analysed by thelikesoffinn - definitely read this, you'll understand Astarion so much better after this).

He instantly lays the focus on our codependency again, that we need each other and so on. If we question why we should keep him around, he answers with:

A strong, well-fed vampire? I'm a powerful weapon - you'd be a fool to toss me aside now.

With mentioning this, he wants to make sure that Tav will let him stay by their side and therefore grant him protection.

But more importantly he continues:

Anyway, last night was an aberration. It will never happen again.

He doesn't even start with something like "Next time I'll be more careful" or anything similar. He straight up says that it will never happen again. Period. If we then ask who he will feed on next time he gets hungry, he presents the idea of feeding on villains and bandits "who need killing anyway". And this is exactly what he wants. This even shows in his reaction to Tav's response to his suggestion.

If we agree and therefore allow him to feed on our enemies ("Sounds good. Glad we could agree"), this is how he reacts:

As am I. I'm starting to feel a little peckish already.

This itself doesn't sound all too enthusiastic, but we get his approval up, which definitely shows that he very much likes that Tav agreed.

On the contrary, if we suggest he can feed on Tav, ignoring his will wish to feed on villains ("Look, I'm not against you feeding on me, but only if we talk about it first"), this is his reaction:

Of course! This sounds eminently reasonable.

I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together.

Doesn't sound too bad either, eh? But we don't get his approval. He doesn't disapprove, of course, because this is still a thousand times better than what he had until then, but still not what he really wants…

So, what does all of this mean for the initial question?

Conclusion

The crucial point here is what it means for Astarion to feed on Tav. The only things he remembers since Cazador turned him, are being relentlessly dominated and horrifyingly abused. The things Astarion wants the most are to be safe and to finally have control over himself again.

He bit Tav for the sole purpose of finding out if he can be free of Cazador's rules. So why would he jump right into being dependent on Tav? He suggests to feed on villains, because then he is free of anyone's mercy. He doesn't need to rely on Tav to graciously allow him to get a drop of blood. He can do this himself now.

This is such an important step for his character growth, to find the way to his autonomy again, so if we only allow him to feed on Tav, it instantly sets him back into old habits of bowing to his masters words - or in this case Tav's. Because it's all hes been doing for the last two centuries of his life.

So, as much as the thought of the self-sacrificing offer to be his personal blood bag may seem romantic or whatever, it's actually the exact opposite, trapping Astarion in what he desperately tries to escape from. The restrictions that come with someone dominating him mentally and physically. And as I mentioned earlier, he doesn't believe in the goodness of people. For him every "kind" act has a price and he likes to know what he has to pay, so he wouldn't even want to just drink Tav's blood without Tav getting anything out of it. He would most certainly expect Tav one day to come around with something he doesn't want to give or do, so he wants to control such situations beforehand.

All he wants is to make his own decisions and be free in every way possible…

So please just let him drain some bandits, will ya?

#astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion meta #astarion analysis #sorry for that shitty thumbnail but i couldn't resist

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clockwayswrites · 24 days

Text

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 13

Cass looked up as Jason came out of Danny’s room. He looked better.

After Danny had been stabilized, Cass had taken Jason away from the safe house and to Jason’s place with the gym in the basement. She knew what it was like to have that need to act— to hurt to ruin to end— burning under her skin. She gave Jason the fight that he needed, letting him punch and kick until they were both covered in bruises and he was shaking apart in her arms.

Today he looked better.

“N is going to stay with Danny,” Jason said with a little nod backwards.

Dick, Jason, Tim, and herself had all been taking turns staying with their new brother. He was sleeping a lot right then; he was waking with nightmares a lot too. Waking up with one of them touching him seemed to help him calm the quickest so they took turns staying close.

“Red?” Cass asked with a little tilt of her head.

Jason glanced at the clock on the oven as he opened the fridge. He wasn��t really hungry, but eating out of habit. “He’ll be over here in two hours, I he doesn’t get distracted.”

“Be nice. Red cares. He’ll be here,” she said.

Jason seemed to settle on something and popped the top off before throwing it in the microwave. “Yeah… yeah. Danny’s pretty much wormed his way into all of our hearts, hasn’t he?”

“Yes. Will for rest too.”

Jason snorted. “As if he already hasn’t with B. They didn’t need to meet for that. You know how the old man is, a real bleeding heart of stone.”

Cass rolled her eyes and ordered again, “Be nice.”

Jason frowned at her but she just smiled serenely back until he rolled his eyes. It was a win enough for her.

The heated food was set on a trivet between them and Jason stuck two forks in it.

“I’m thinking we get O in here in a few days,” he said around his own large bite of lasagna. “Danny is healing better this time, but we don’t know what sort of set back this will cause mentally and all. Having another set of hands would be good.”

“O will like him.”

“Course she will,” Jason said with almost a scoff.

“No O and Red,” Cass added thoughtfully after she had chewed her own bite. This was definitely Jason lasagna and not Alfred lasagna.

“Yeah… I don’t think I’m going to trust those three in a room together for a long time,” Jason said with a dawning sort of horror. “Danny took apart the remote here and now it has buttons for services I didn’t even know existed. I swear it will change shows on its own too if no one is paying attention to it. It’s useful, I guess, but a little creepy.”

“Ghost brother,” Cass said with a little shrug.

Jason’s eyes narrowed before he let out an exhausted sounding sigh. “I hate that you might be right. Our controller could be haunted now.”

“Alas poor Yorick?”

“Wrong character,” Jason said, pointing with his fork, “but that is a play with a ghost in it so good job.”

Cass smiled happily at the praise. “Once Red is here, you and me errands?”

“You just want to buy Danny another present,” Jason said, jabbing his fork in her direction.

“Yes,” she said with zero shame.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Fine, but we have to do groceries too.”

Babs had been warned that Danny was still very skittish, but he hadn’t actually expected him to freeze like a scared rabbit when she came into the apartment. She stopped rolling forward and moved her hands to where he could see them both clearly.

“Hi Danny,” she said with her kindest librarian voice that she had. “I’m Oracle. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Danny shook his head, the motion ran through him like a shudder and whatever had frozen him shook off him like water off a dog. His smile was still shaky though, so Babs didn’t think that whatever the reaction had been was completely done.

“Hi, Oracle.” His voice was soft, rough, a little broken.

She’d heard from a number of the bats about the latest development and the trauma that went with it, but it as still something to see someone that looked like a young Bruce covered in bandages and looking more than worse for the wear.

“Are you alright if I come in? If you aren’t, that’s alright. I’ll just talk with Nightwing in the hall for a little.”

“No, you can come in,” Danny said, sitting up a little straighter. His eyes flicked over her again. “It’s just… your hair reminded me of someone is all. No one… no one bad.”

Babs offered him a smile and came the rest of the way into the apartment. “If that changes, just let me know.”

“It’s fine, really,” Danny said, though the words were still a little bit of a whisper.

“Well then,” Dick said, interrupting the end of the oddly tense moment, “Babs, do you want any hot chocolate?”

“Thank you, but without the mountain of whip cream I know you liked to put on it,” she said, giving Dick a playful glare.

He shrugged unrepentantly. “Danny?”

“Yes please,” he said. He was fussing with the blanket he had been sitting under, folding it up just so.

Babs moved towards the kitchen to give him a little bit of space and the illusion of some privacy.

‘What was that about?’ Babs asked Dick silently through raised eye brows, a slightly twisted frown, and a subtle nod towards the living room.

‘Not a damn clue,’ is what Dick’s shrug said back.

It almost made Babs sigh.

Danny was still a complete mystery to her. While they were being good and had avoided taking blood or fingerprints from Danny, Barbara had at least been trying to find Danny’s path through the city. She’d been saying for days now that the boy was like a ghost.

She just didn’t expect that to be as literal as it was.

The nickname had lost any of its fun.

“Danny, whipped cream for you?” Dick asked.

Danny’s eyes darted from Dick to Babs.

“Oh, feel free to have it like N,” Babs said with a smile. “I just don’t have the sweet tooth that he does.”

“She never has, it’s tragic,” Dick said with a sigh as he started to warm a pot of milk. “So, whipped cream.”

“Um, yes,” Danny said.

“I will take sprinkles though,” Babs said. “Do you have the little—”

“Bats?” Dick scoffed. “Of course I have the little bats. You can’t have proper hot chocolate without the little bat sprinkles.”

“Of course not,” words serious but unable to help the little smile that she sported.

“You all really like the theme, don’t you?” Danny asked, though he was smiling too now.

“The boy in the hoddie with the Bat logo on it does not get to talk,” Dick said and tossed a large marshmallow at Danny with pin point accuracy.

Danny caught it effortlessly and started to pull it apart with a little shrug. “Hood got if for me as a present.”

“Of course he did,” Tim said as he finally emerged from wherever he had been tucked away. He handed the tablet he was carrying over to Danny before he sat down in the neighboring armchair. “He’s just trying to claim you first, as if him and I didn’t find you together.”

“Hot chocolate, Red?” Dick asked while Danny was busy looking bewildered at that.

“Sure, but add some coffee to it?” Tim asked.

“No,” Dick replied far too cheerfully. “But seriously Dandelion, a Bat logo from a Bat means something.”

Danny’s face scrunched up at that and he looked down at himself. “I don’t think… he was trying to claim me?”

Babs snorted. “Oh, trust us, he was absolutely claiming you. He probably felt that he had to do something material to even start to compete with B.B., as if he wasn’t cooking for you all the time.”

Danny stared back at her with wide blue eyes. The open surprise and desperate want was odd to see on someone that looked so much like Bruce. Damian certainly never let himself appear that way.

“And Red is already souping up your tablet, I’m assuming— though if you really want an improvement let me see it,” she continued, talking over Tim’s little snort, “and N is making you the special hot chocolate. Even Signal is thinking what he can get you and Spoiler is whining that she hasn’t met you yet.”

“She is getting so annoying,” Tim whined while Danny stuffed the shredded marshmallow in his mouth, likely to get out of saying anything. He looked more than a little teary eyed. Tim gave him the out by continuing, “We’ll have her over one morning when she’ll be tired and easily distracted by waffles. You’re not up for the full Spoiler experience yet.”

“Trust Red on that,” Dick interjected as he stirred the coco, “he dated her.”

“I don’t know what either of us were thinking,” Tim said with a sigh. “We are both way too high maintenance in different ways for it to have worked.”

“You were still waiting for you bi awakening, baby bird, you were missing out on half the options,” Dick said. He dropped one of the oversized marshmallows in each of the four mugs before pouring the scalding hot chocolate over it.

Babs left him to his sorcery and wheeled over to the couch before working her way onto it. Danny helpfully moved the blanket out of the way and then offered it back after. She draped it carefully over her legs.

“So what did Red do to your tablet?”

“I actually didn’t do anything,” Tim said, and then had to pause. “Well, not after I gave it to Danny at least. I was just making sure everything was still good. Danny’s been tinkering with it.”

Danny gave a little shrug and picked at the edge of his hoodie.

“Do you like engineering then? Or inventing?” Babs asked, trying to encourage Danny to open up a little.

“Yeah, my— I—, I mean…” Danny stumbled over his words. He lost some of his color with each false start until he was worryingly grey. He swallowed thickly. “Yeah, I used to at least.”

“Danny, hot chocolate,” Dick said with impeccable timing as always.

Danny whispered a thanks and took the almost overflowing mug. He could basically hide behind the mound of whipped cream and he definitely tried to. Babs took the offered mug with a much more modest dollop but an absurd amount of bat sprinkles. Her lips twitched up in a smile as she took a sip.

Tim’s portion was somewhere in between Bab’s and Danny and of course Dick’s was practically laughable. It’s a wonder he didn’t make an absolute mess of himself drinking it as they argued over a movie to watch. It was clever of the Bats, really, they had started to narrow down how long Danny had been a test subject by what movies he had seen or not.

It was somewhere between seventeen and twenty-three months.

Nearly two years.

They were all lucky that Danny had made it out at all. They all knew the statistics of something like that.

Hot chocolate turned into dinner turned into Danny cuddling Dick on the couch and eventually resting against Bab’s legs. A good sign about her acceptance, according to the birds.

“Oracle?”

Babs had thought that Danny was asleep. She reached out to run the tips of her fingers through his hair. The lights from the movie that was still playing glinted off her pink nails. “Yes, Danny?”

“If I asked… would you be able to find someone for me?”

She tilted her head. “The person that I remind you of?”

“Yes. Just… just so that I know she’s okay.”

“Is she in danger?”

“No, she’s not like me. She’s…” Danny cut himself off, swallowing back the words.

“But you’d still like to know.”

“Yes.”

Babs hummed. It was technically an abuse of her powers, but they were something she abused all the time. “Yes, if you ask me to, I can find out if she’s okay.”

“Okay. I’ll… maybe I’ll ask. Thank you.”

“Of course, Danny.”

---

AN: I struggled with this chapter at first, but it was because I was jumping right to Barbara meeting Danny and not giving the others some more time to deal with the change in Danny. They still haven't really dealt with it, right now they're focused on healing and getting more help through Babs being around.

All our poor Bat's. So attached already and so traumatized.

But not as traumatized as Danny...

Stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

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buckybabesonly · 1 year

Text

Heart of Glass

Summary: You hate it when Bucky is mad, but it's a thousand times worse when you're the one he's mad at.

Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Insecure reader, self-deprecation, self-harm (?)

A/N: I love stories like these so thought I'd take a stab at it. Please do leave feedback, they are always encouraging!

Length: 4.8k

It had taken Bucky a long time to open up to you. His journey of being able to face what he had done as the Winter Soldier was long and arduous, and still ongoing. He had vivid nightmares, ones which alleviated in frequency over the course of the last few years, but which still sometimes made an unwelcome appearance.

His own healing was a work in progress, so it was no surprise that it was still a struggle for him to divulge certain aspects to you. He found it difficult letting himself be vulnerable, even around people he trusted, and insight into his past had been offered to you in scattered pieces.

You had been patient, although you wished that Bucky would feel comfortable revealing more. You never judged him, and you just wanted to help and do your part in the recovery process, if you could. It was much worse hearing the exacerbated, hateful stories of the Winter Soldier from other people’s mouths - the Internet was a horrid place, and whilst there were still a lot of people who supported Bucky Barnes and the Avengers in general, there were just as many people who would not forgive him for being the Winter Soldier.

You knew that you shouldn’t have done what you did. You and Bucky had been together for just over a year, friends for three times that long. It hadn’t all been flowers and rainbows - it had been a tumultuous relationship and you had had your ups and downs, but at the end of the day, you knew you had found your person. You were both learning and growing together, navigating the tougher obstacles in your relationship with enthusiasm. You had finally found someone you were truly madly in love with, and you felt so lucky.

It wasn’t easy, working for S.H.I.E.L.D as an agent which was a demanding career in itself, and dating someone who was almost in constant danger and carrying out often life-threatening missions. But you made it work. Getting to love Bucky and have him love you back was worth anything, and you loved being able to see him smile and, what’s more, being his reason to smile.

On the same token, you hated seeing him unhappy. It was the most devastating feeling in the world, in times when he was disappointed in himself, or when he had woken up from a particularly bad nightmare, or after one of his mandated therapy sessions.

The worst thing was seeing him mad. And it’s a thousand times worse when you’re the one he’s mad at.

You knew that you shouldn’t have done it. You felt guilty as you passed your colleagues desk and your eyes naturally flickered to a familiar name in recognition. BARNES, JAMES BUCHANAN.

You frowned slightly, realizing that his file was on a pile alongside a couple of other familiar names. It wasn’t unusual for another agent to have his file out, particularly if he was looking into specific incidents that Bucky may have been involved in the past, but you had never actually seen it in front of you before.

Of course, it would have been easy for you to find the file and look for yourself. Everything had electronic copies these days, or you could have grabbed the physical copies from the archive. But you had never done it, as it just didn’t feel right. Reading up on your boyfriend’s past like his life was a history book.

Still, despite yourself, you paused. You found your hand reaching out and you took a deep breath of momentary hesitation before you flicked open the file.

An assortment of photos and documents were stacked neatly inside. You couldn’t help it as you found your eyes consuming the information, flicking from page to page. The guilt was building in your gut the longer you spent, standing slightly crouched over the desk, consuming the information with an uncomfortable lump in your throat.

You wanted to cry. You felt your hate for HYDRA increase ten-fold, thinking about all the pain they inflicted on Bucky to manipulate him into their own personal killing machine, thinking about how they had simply made him hurt all those people. Bucky often had the most stoic, cool exterior, but you knew inside he was just your soft, gentle boyfriend. The most beautiful man you knew had been forced to be an assassin against his will.

And now he had to live with the consequences. It’s so unfair, you thought as tears of anger pricked your eyes. You were a very empathetic person, especially when it came to him, and you found yourself feeling quietly furious.

You slammed the file shut, conflicted emotions making you feel both angry and guilty. You always had an idea of what HYDRA had made Bucky do, of course, but actually consuming the detail within his file had made it come to life in your mind. All you wanted during the course of your time with Bucky was to get a better view from his shoes, if only to help you relate a bit more to his suffering. You loved him so much and you wanted nothing more than to help him.

At the same time, you knew it wasn’t right, snooping like this. You always told yourself to just wait, and eventually Bucky would trust you enough to share everything.

You started to wonder if you had done something wrong as you slowly walked away from the desk, nibbling your bottom lip. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, frowning as the contents of the file plagued your mind. You decided you would have to come clean to Bucky about this.

“What?” Bucky said quietly, cocking his head to the side as if he really had genuinely misheard you. However, as you studied the look in his eyes, you knew that he had heard every word.

“I know it was wrong. Bucky, I’m - “

“If you knew it was wrong, then why did you do it?” Bucky interrupted, his eyebrows drawing together as he frowned. Anger was starting to distort his face, and he kept his voice quiet and low.

You were mute for a long minute, your cheeks flushing as he stared at you, waiting for you to speak. You were both stood in your bedroom, you with your back against the window and his against the door. The distance between you felt painful.

“Do you know what a violation of my privacy that is?” he continued when you didn’t speak, his jaw twitching.

“I was just trying to - just trying to understand,” you said, trying to find the right words. “I just thought that if I knew what they did to you, then I could help you.”

“How would you be able to help?” Bucky was furious, but in that quiet, almost calm way that frightened you the most. His brow was slightly furrowed, corners of lips turned down into a frown, but the biggest giveaway was his clenched fists. They were shaking almost impercetibly.

It was scarier when he didn’t raise his voice, and your fingers twitched uncomfortably by your sides, wanting to reach out to him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I thought that if I could understand what happened, then maybe I could help with your nightmares, help talk to you about the past.”

Bucky exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “Are you my therapist? What were you hoping to do, read my entire past and diagnose me?” He regarded you with a look of bewilderment and fury.

“No, I - “

“No, listen,” Bucky said, frustration rising in his throat, breaking his barely composed facade. “Do you have any idea how messed up that is? There’s a reason why I didn’t tell you everything at my own pace, and you went behind my back and fucking investigated me? How do you think that makes me feel? You couldn’t even respect me enough to let me tell you out of my own choice!”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You knew you had fucked up majorly. He was glaring at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I really didn’t have any bad intentions, I just - “

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky spat out. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t have any bad intentions. You think I’m proud of what I did as the fucking Winter Soldier? It haunts me, and I have to live with him for the rest of my fucking life. I - I trusted you, and you betrayed it.”

I let out a slight whimper at his words, knowing the venomous words he was spitting out was completely true.

“I have to fight so hard, every day, not to fall apart with the knowledge and memories of what the Winter Soldier did, what I did.”

“Bucky, please,” you said, taking a step forward, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that, I am so, so sorry.”

Bucky shook his head, moving away from me and lifting his hands as a warning. “Don’t. Just - don’t.”

He turned his back, making to leave.

“Can we just talk about this?” you asked desperately, not wanting him to go. You were terrified that he wouldn’t come back.

“I need some space,” Bucky said sharply without turning to look back at you. He left and pulled the door shut with such force that you jumped, tears finally escaping.

You had no idea how you were going to fix this.

Bucky and you had one rule. Never go to bed angry at each other.

It was a rule you had instigated. You hated going to bed whilst you were in the throes of a fight, and the first time you had argued - something petty, really - you had pouted at Bucky and demanded that you make up.

He was relieved at that time as it was such a silly fight and he was anxious that you would give him the silent treatment. But he laughed as you jumped into his arms, kissing his cheek and letting him know all was forgiven.

“New rule - we can’t go to bed angry at each other,” you had announced at the time.

“Yes, my liege,” Bucky had responded.

Bucky wasn’t answering your calls or texts. You left 15 voicemails and 24 text messages, all apologizing and asking him to talk. You knew you should give him space, as it was only fair for him to digest what had happened and process, but you felt like you couldn’t function.

You wanted him by your side so you could apologize over and over again and tell him, genuinely, how regretful you were.

There was no excuse. Your face was tear-stained and eyes puffy as you paced your apartment, the clock having struck midnight a long time ago, with no sight of Bucky.

When four AM rolled round, you finally passed out on the couch whilst waiting for him. When your alarm rudely woke you up at seven, you startled and immediately ran into the bedroom, although you knew he wouldn’t be there.

The bed was empty, still made from the previous morning and untouched.

You could cry all over again.

You hurried to get ready nonetheless, and made your way to the Avengers Tower. You were involved in some S.H.I.E.L.D projects that were being hosted there, and you knew it was the place Bucky was most likely to be.

You checked your phone obsessively on the way to the Tower. No calls or messages from Bucky.

You groaned internally. He had never ignored you like this before. The gravity of the situation was slowly growing heavier and heavier - he was your Bucky, the one who always took care of you and worried over you and was by your side almost 24/7 whenever he wasn’t out on a mission, but now he was actively avoiding you.

More and more fear started to creep into the mix alongside the guilt. Would Bucky leave you over this?

When you arrived at the Tower, you expected it to be a lot harder to find him than it was. But he was in the training room, the first place you looked.

“Bucky,” you said quietly as soon as you saw him. He was serving blows mercilessly to a punching bag hung from the ceiling, as if he needed the practice. You knew he was letting off steam. He was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair hanging over his forehead in sweaty tendrils, his face slightly red.

Bucky barely even flinched. He didn’t acknowledge you at all, eyes never leaving the bag in front of him.

“Can we talk?” you asked tentatively.

No response.

“Bucky, if you don’t reply, I’m just going to start talking at you, and I really don’t want to do that,” you said. All you wanted him to do was at least look at you.

Bucky stopped then and you heaved a sigh of relief. But instead of speaking, he simply wrapped a towel around his shoulders and turned his back on you, leaving out of the door on the other side of the room.

You felt rocks fall to the bottom of your stomach, and the urge to cry reared its ugly head yet again.

Bucky hadn’t spoken to you for two days. He hadn’t returned to your apartment for two days.

You had cried all of those days. You tried to find him and corner him to make him face you, but after that day in the training room, he had really been avoiding you. You had only seen him once in those two days, and he immediately disappeared as soon as he saw you.

It hurt so much. Like someone had stabbed you and, what’s more, was twisting the handle.

You knew you deserved it. You had really hurt Bucky, but part of you was still terrified of what he would do. How long would he wait until he decided to speak to you again? Was he going to break up with you?

You didn’t know how to fix it. You were ashamed to tell Sam, even though you wanted to ask his advice on what to do. You had done something so bad that you didn’t want to face his disappointment, too, although you were certain Bucky may have already told him.

Still, it hurt so bad. All you wanted Bucky to do was hug you and tell you it was alright, instead you were met with indifference and the back of his head. He wouldn’t even look at you.

You would rather he shouted at you, screamed at you, anything to actually make him talk and acknowledge your existence. But he continued to ice you out, and your heart was breaking.

Bucky knew he loved you even before you officially became a couple. He loved how funny you were, how hard working you were, how you always listened to his side of the story, how you took care of him and patiently explained anything to him that he still didn’t quite understand about the modern world.

There were a lot of great women, but to Bucky, you had stood out. From day one, you had cared about him. Little things, like asking about his favorite songs from the 40s, making sure his head was covered with your umbrella when it was raining even though your shoulder was getting wet, ensuring he got three solid meals a day and that his favorite snacks were stored in the pantry.

Bigger things, too, like letting him share the burden of his past with you without ever a word of judgment or disdain, encouraging him to visit his parents’ grave on the anniversary of their death and making the journey with him, sharing memories of Steve whenever Bucky was missing him. You were his rock, and he felt like he had mined the most precious diamond.

He knew he could tell you anything, but his sordid past as the Winter Soldier was still something he was trying to overcome himself. He was ashamed, and part of him was worried that you would suddenly think less of him. See him as the monster that he used to be, the monster that he sometimes saw himself as.

He hated the thought of poisoning your mind with unsavory images of himself and the knowledge of what he had done.

He was so angry to know that you saw his file. But the majority of his feelings came from the fact that he was so laden with guilt. He didn’t want you to know the ugly truth when all you had seen of him so far was the better version of himself that he was trying to be.

How could he forget his past when you knew every disgusting detail now, too? When you had now also seen the faces of all the people he had killed?

At the same time, he believed you when you said you were just trying to help. That was just your nature. He knew that you genuinely thought if you understood, you could offer assistance and ease his silent torment.

But anger prevailed, and he found himself ignoring you for days, even though he felt so immature doing it. He just couldn’t face you right now, even as you stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He could barely avoid meeting your gaze and instead chose to turn away completely, as if pretending you weren’t there would alleviate the pain. He was afraid that if he looked at you a little too long, his resolve would shatter.

It was exceptionally poor timing that your birthday rolled around after five days of total radio silence from Bucky. You had forgotten, actually, until you entered the Tower and a fellow agent had wished you a happy birthday.

You gave her a weak smile as you muttered some made up plans about how you would be celebrating.

You wanted to burst out crying when you saw Bucky that morning, in the kitchen at the Tower.

He was leaning against the kitchen island, a smile on his face, a smile you hadn’t seen for almost a week. He was talking to an agent, a decent girl you had worked with before. You liked her, actually, as did a lot of people. He was talking to her about something, looking more relaxed than you had seen him since you had the fight.

He hadn’t noticed you as you observed the two of them. You didn’t think anything flirtatious was going on, but still, it hurt to see him smiling softly at someone else when he hadn’t paid you any attention for so long.

Part of you wasn’t sure if Bucky was going to speak to you today. But it was your birthday, after all - he always made a big deal out of it, asking you what you wanted to do and making sure you got a cake and flowers and all the romantic works. He always told you that you were his greatest gift, and so he couldn’t miss celebrating the day that you were brought into the world.

If he didn’t speak to you today, you think you would be sick.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize the agent Bucky was talking to was leaving, and as she walked past you, you felt Bucky’s eyes on you. You met his gaze hesitantly, blinking wordlessly.

He paused, and you could almost see the gears turning in his brain as he decided what to do.

His smile dissipated, and he turned his back on you.

When you returned home that night, you cried your eyes out. You sat on the couch forlornly, staring at the door, half-expecting him to burst through at any moment with an apology and kisses waiting to be pressed onto your lips.

Midnight struck, and you went to bed alone.

Six days.

Bucky had not spoken to you in six days, and honestly, he felt like shit.

He had never been so angry at you before, but he was surprised at himself that his silent streak had lasted so long. To be honest, the time had passed quickly, as he had kept himself as busy as possible.

As Bucky came down from his angry high, the feeling of guilt and sadness overwhelmed him at the thought of you being unhappy. He knew that this period of time would be tough on you, although he stood by his point that you should not have read his file behind his back, especially as you knew how sensitive he was about his past.

And yet, ultimately, he recalled that you only had his best interests at heart, even if you were going about it the wrong way. He sighed as he approached the Tower elevator, stepping inside just as Sam came running down the hallway, shouting at him to hold.

Bucky stabbed the close door button repeatedly, cursing as Sam slid past just in the nick of time, punching him playfully.

“You in a mood, princess?” he snickered, taking note of the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes. “You been up all night with your girl?”

Bucky let out a tsk. He sighed as the elevator descended.

“No. Haven’t spoken to her actually,” he admitted.

“Woah, wait. What do you mean?” Sam asked when he realized Bucky was being serious.

“Had a fight,” Bucky said reluctantly.

Sam frowned lightly. “On her birthday?”

Bucky froze as he opened his mouth to clarify that the fight had began a few days ago. His mind racked to confirm today’s date.

Shit. It was your birthday yesterday.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky said, head lolling back to bash against the glass elevator wall.

“You okay, man?” Sam asked, clearly concerned.

“I messed up,” he sighed in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, now he wanted to cry. How could he do this to you? He was already beginning to feel like he’d gone overboard with his reaction as the days passed and the red haze of anger dissolved from his eyes, clouding his better judgment, but now he truly felt like he had gone about everything so wrongly.

You had always gone on about the importance of communication in a relationship, and how you both needed to work together to overcome any challenges, and that one of the things you valued the most was being open and honest.

He imagined you sat alone at home, on your birthday, waiting expectantly for him to turn up.

His chest hurt.

You lay down in bed as the sun set, darkness filling the room.

You had the covers over your head as the tears wet your pillow, your head hurting so much from all the crying and dehydration.

Your world was truly coming down around you. You were about to lose the best thing that had ever happened to you. Bucky was going to leave you, and it was your fault. The past few days had really unveiled your most deep rooted fear, that the love of your life was going to abandon you.

“You’re so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “So stupid. So fucking stupid.”

You ignored the incessant buzzing of your phone. Your friends had been calling you since your birthday yesterday, concerned that you hadn’t picked up even once. You didn’t care. If Bucky wasn’t here, then you just wanted to be alone.

You always knew you weren’t good enough for him. Always knew that he would leave you eventually. Out of all the people in the world, what on earth would make him choose you?

You threw the covers off of you as a new surge of rage overwhelmed you.

“You are so fucking stupid!” you screamed out loud, letting the anger seep through your body, expel through your lungs. You stormed over to your mirror and punched the glass once, twice, until it cracked and sliced your knuckles, blood trickling immediately over your hand.

Bucky was going to leave you.

Your knees buckled and you collapsed onto the floor, head hanging as tears dripped down onto the carpet.

“So stupid,” you continued in a whisper. “So useless, so stupid, so -”

“What the fuck are you doing?” came a loud voice, and your head snapped up with such speed that your head spun.

Bucky was standing in the open doorway, expression aghast as he took in the sight of you. Red, swollen eyes, bleeding hand, sitting in front of the broken mirror.

“Bucky,” you said weakly, voice trembling. He had come back to break up with you.

You always knew he would do it eventually. Your relationship was too good to be true.

“Oh my god,” Bucky hissed as he darted forward, moving down on his knees to join you and gently lifting your wounded hand. “What have you done?”

You started to cry again, feeling so pathetic. Bucky shook his head, eyes frantic.

“No, no, no, doll, please don’t cry,” he said, his voice softening.

“I’m sorry,” you garbled, voice thick with guilt. “I know I fucked up, I know. I’m so sorry Bucky. Please don’t leave me.”

The desperation in your voice broke Bucky’s heart. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could without hurting you, pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“Listen to me. I’m not going to leave you,” he said firmly. He pulled back and studied your face carefully, trying to keep his voice steady for your sake. “I need to patch you up, okay?”

You sniffled, nodding once before he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared with a first aid kit, kneeling down once more and inspecting your hand.

“Why did you do that, doll?” he murmured, a pained look in his eyes as he began to clean you up. It wasn’t a serious injury, just a scratch compared to some of the other battle wounds you had received in the past, but the idea that you had done that to yourself made Bucky so sad.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I’m just - I don’t know. I’m so angry at myself. Please will you forgive me? For everything?”

Bucky’s eyes welled up as he paused with his tending to your hand, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. You were the most important person in the world to him and he had been pushing you away, had completely forgotten your birthday, and you had hurt yourself because of him when all you wanted was to help him.

“I forgive you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” you insisted as he resumed cleaning your wound. You could see his eyes were wet, and you were nonplussed at why that would be.

“Yes, there is,” Bucky said, wearing a look of shame that you didn’t understand. “I know that your heart is always in the right place. Instead of talking to you about it, I just shut you out. No matter how angry I was, I shouldn’t have done that. I hurt you.”

He worked quickly, bandaging your hand and slowly holding your wrist after. His solemn blue eyes finally met yours.

“I love you so much. I should have stayed to talk, but I just… left. I shouldn't have done that.” He took a deep breath. “I walked away because I couldn’t stand the thought of you knowing everything. Knowing all the people I’ve killed - some of them innocent people. Read about how cold I was, the - the complete lack of mercy I showed. I am a monster.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, lifting your good hand to tenderly touch his face. You were hesitant, as if you were afraid he would withdraw from your touch. Instead, he leaned against your palm, eyes closed. He turned to press a kiss into your hand.

“I thought - “ you began, taking a deep breath at the insecurity and uncertainty that still plagued you. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”

Bucky’s eyes opened to stare at you forlornly, as if hurt that you would even have this thought.

“Never,” he said firmly. “You have no idea how much I have missed you.”

You launched yourself into his arms then, willing Bucky’s strong arms to encircle you. He did just that, holding you close as you sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

“Let me make it up to you, okay?” Bucky murmured. “Belated birthday celebration.”

“It’s enough that you’re here,” you whispered.

You still had a lot to talk about, but you felt so much better now that Bucky was standing by your side again. Maybe everything was going to be alright.

#bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky one shot #bucky angst one shot #bucky x you fight

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