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#if you were tagged a ton of times i'm sorry :(
roostertuftart · 2 years
Note
Look I dont think youre wrong about people not listening to jewish voices but I am uncomfortable with you advocating so strongly for some groups while being shitty with others like when you liked a post by a racist justifying their use of the nword in the past and never talked about it. Jewish people need to be spoken for but how you pick and choose is suspicious and you cant expect other people to admit their biases when you cant admit your own.
??? Are you seriously trying to say that my concern for someone who was clearly in the midst of a mental breakdown makes it so that I can't support another person trying to speak about how depictions of a character are somewhat problematic???? This is. pathetic but thanks for trying to word it in the most uncharitable way possible lol.
edit: god i definitely worded these tags aggressively so I'm probably gonna make a real apology though I'm not even certain I did what anon is accusing me of??? either way my aggression is more towards them for trying to twist this situation so grossly and not towards anyone genuinely affected by whatever I apparently did (And I am not denying I did... I genuinely don't remember but like... Yeah it was definitely not great on my part if I did what they're saying even if my intentions were different, and the fact that I'm unsure is evidence enough to me that I might have)
Moreover, i have a hunch this anon has sent me bait before and I think it's nasty they're trying to twist an issue about antisemitism into whatever stupid beef they have with me. like... nasty.
Final edit: Any more asks from this anon are being deleted. I wouldn't have even published this one but I feel like that would be sort of hiding any wrongdoing i may have done at any point, but I genuinely do not believe this person means anything they're saying and are only doing this because for whatever reason they do not like me. and I. do not care lol
#if anyone wants to know context... There was a user who i will not name who had been going downhill for months#and this person had never been like... nasty or bigoted or anything in the past#but had began posting about being extremely suicidal and planning such. and a lot of other really dark hopeless shit#and suddenly started to post really bigoted but kind of deranged shit that like... clearly not of their actual beliefs but just. god idek#i've been around a ton of people who have had nervous break downs and the likes. and i was positive they were going through that#i still think it must have been. idk for sure but like. damn it was so sudden a shift#and with all of the suicidal stuff they posted i was gen really worried and I DMed them trying to support them multiple times`#because like! i'm sorry you've never dealt with anyone who isn't well but sometimes extremely mentally ill people do random fucked up#shit that may not be okay and they may need to be held accountable for but goddamn i was legitimately worried they were gonna off#themselves? idr liking their posts. i'm not gonna deny i did. I might've just to show them that i wasn't ignoring whatever shit they were#going through to make them suddenly act so erratic and irrational#if you wanna hold that against me#fine. i really don't care#looking back i probably should've kept my concern for them within dms and i can definitely recognize how my public support might come off#as support for what they said or posted and i do genuinely apologize for that... tbh if people really think it's necessary I will turn#these tags into a cleaned up apology like... i'm not saying that i handled that great#but to act like it's as simple as i supported a racist saying the n word? uhh??? no?? and you know that's not what happened#but please try to paint me as bad as possible lmao. just throw out accusations or assumptions of my intentions.#i'm apologizing rn to anyone genuinely affected by that stuff but you didn't ask this out of concern anon#ask#anon
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
Text
cold nights // part four
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!
series masterlist // playlist
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"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.
"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.
"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"
"Y/N M/N L/N."
"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"
"District Twelve, born and raised."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.
"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.
"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."
"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.
"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.
"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."
"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."
"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"
"Yes."
Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.
Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.
"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."
"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.
"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."
"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."
"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."
Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."
"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.
Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"
"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."
"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.
"Of course." You nod in understanding.
"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.
"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.
"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.
"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.
"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"
"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.
You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.
"So, uh, do you have a job?"
"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.
"Did you make your dress?" He asks.
"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."
He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.
"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."
Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.
"It's nice. I like it." He responds.
"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."
"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.
"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.
"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?
"Reading."
"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"
"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"
"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.
"Tybalt." You giggle.
"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.
He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."
"That's your favourite, I remember."
"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."
"That's clever. Very funny."
"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"
"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.
"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."
"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.
"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.
"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."
Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."
"Okay. I'll practice."
"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"
Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.
"That's okay. We'll figure it out."
That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.
As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.
"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"
"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."
"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.
"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.
"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."
He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"
"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"
"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."
"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.
"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.
"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."
"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.
"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"
"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"
"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."
"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."
"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.
"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."
Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.
Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.
"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."
You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."
Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.
You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.
"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.
"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."
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taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0, @regulusblackcore, @kbakery , @qardasngan, @omgsuperstarg, @kuroosbby001, @puredreamagination,
if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!
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kunikinnie · 8 months
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Hiii! How are you? Hope you are well! I was searching through Fukuzawa X reader's tag and I saw your headcanons for "accidently hurting their SO" and it was soooo cute!! Are your requests open, by any chance? If they are, is there any chance you could write headcanons with the same prompt, but with Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa and Atsushi? If they are not, just know that you are a great writer and I just loved your work!!
a/n: HELLO I'M ALIVE! sorry these SO LONG but here they are :) some of them might be ooc but ahkdjsf also if you're curious i was reading Spinning Gears while writing Aku's so ye
warnings: profanity, mentions of violence, blood, very angsty for some, probably ooc
accidentally hurting their s/o during an argument
featuring: Dazai, Chuuya, Akutagawa, Atsushi x GN!Reader
Dazai Osamu
There was something uncertain that stirred something deep within him - something he couldn't bring himself to face.
It could've been anything: the staleness of the air, the lingering aftertaste of the shitty coffee he had that morning, an intrusive thought he left uncontrolled, the sadness of the setting sun...
Not knowing the source bothered him. It bothered him so much that although words were flying exasperatedly throughout the room, he had regressed into his own mind.
It was the wrong move. He had underestimated how powerful the darkness was, and as it continued to grow like a whirlpool, he was swallowed into an ocean of abandoned thoughts.
He hadn't felt like this in years. Memories and voices from those times reverberated so strongly that nothing from the current moment could touch him. He didn't even have any idea what was happening.
Yet just a single phrase had managed to penetrate, and as soon as it hit it had triggered something despicable.
It was the silence that followed that snapped him out of it, not the stinging sensation at the back of his hand.
You slowly slumped down the wall and onto the floor. Not for a single moment did your stunned expression or blank eyes waver - in your silent tears flowed the last drops of your energy.
"I'm sorry," you whispered. Why were you apologizing? It was he who had done wrong, so why-
"Y/N..." he weakly called out, only to be met with another apology.
"Y/N, I'm sorry..."
He fell down to his knees before tightly embracing your whole body. He apologized once more, yet you didn't even stir. Another attempt amounted to nothing. Desperate to feel something from you, his grasp on you tightened further.
"Y/N, I love you-"
How many times had he said that? Countless times at this point, countless. Each and every one was as genuine as it could get - he hoped you knew that - yet none of them seemed to reach the same level of sincerity and regret to those declarations of those moments.
For all the eloquent speech this man had cultivated over the years, there he was, repeating the same three words over and over again - each iteration once more getting twice as desperate - until finally your hand grasped his shirt.
He could still feel your tears flowing freely, but at least you relaxed somewhat, letting him relax somewhat as well.
"I love you too," you weakly replied. "I love you so much... idiot..."
No words were exchanged after that; perhaps none were needed, or rather none existed that could fill in that need. The whole night he never let you go - not even once - as you two reconciled in each other's presence in silence.
Nakahara Chuuya
It's no secret that Chuuya's temper was more volatile than his favorite wine. Depite that, however, he doesn't let his emotions get the better him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made it this far in the mafia hierarchy.
Today was different. The stressful events of the week left him with hardly any room to breathe, and an argument at home was the last thing he needed.
"Can't you handle that shit yourself, Y/N?!"
He knew that you knew that there were times, such as now, when he should not be approached. So why were you here, being more insistent than ever?
The tone of your voice was already rubbing off of him, and you just had to-
"Fucking hell-"
Without thinking, he kicked the chair beside him. The poor thing managed to take most of his anger, but a piece of debris had unfortunately broken off and flew, hitting you squarely on the face.
It was in such unbelievably perfect timing that Chuuya thought at first his mind had come this stupid situation until he heard your scoff clearly.
"What the-"
Before you could process what had happened, he ran to you and grabbed you into a tight embrace.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N."
You just stood there, still confused. Your forehead stung a bit, but it was nothing compared to the warmth you were enveloped in all of the sudden. You had expected a raging anger and frustration from Chuuya but it just... disappeared.
"Shit- I really didn't mean to, Y/N. I'm sorry-"
Were you relieved to hear that from him? Sure, a bit. But what about the fury that was all-consuming just a while ago? What were you to do with that?
Your silent rumination only unsettled him more. If he clueless as to what you were thinking, he would be just as lost as with what to do.
"Let's go over it again, okay? I'm not going to get mad this time."
More than the chair, it was his words that he flung at you that upset him the most now that he was sober from his emotions.
"I swear I won't get mad. So talk to me. Please. Y/N-"
He was vigorously but gently shaking your shoulder all the while, hoping to get something from you.
And he finally did - but a loud laugh was not what he expected.
"This is so stupid."
It was his turn to be confused. Yes, it was stupid - stupid of him to have done any of that - but he had no idea what you meant by that.
You wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in his neck. "I mean - a flying piece of broken chair? Really?"
"I'm sorry, Y/N-"
"I'm also sorry," you finally said calmly. "I knew you've been stressed recently, but I-"
"It's still my fault. It ain't your fault."
"No. It's mine."
"The heck are you saying?"
You stared at him again, pouting this time yet barely able to contain your laughter.
"Tsk. We are not going to fight over this," he answered playfully.
As quickly as the tension built so did it dissipate - a feature of most of your quarrels that the two of you were grateful to have.
You embraced him tightly once more. "I'm so lucky to have you, Chuuya."
Although you couldn't see his face, you could feel his smile spread. "Same here."
"I love you, Chuuya."
He loosened his grip on you before kissing you on the forehead. "I love you too."
Akutagawa Ryuunosuke
You both knew this would happen eventually. Yet that didn't make things any easier when it did.
The rage had blinded him instantly; he didn't even realize it happen. Within a split second there was a reddish-black flash and a small familiar gasp.
The scent of blood triggered such a vivid vision for him. You had fallen to the floor soundlessly, and there you were lying lifelessly. It was a vision he'd seen many times before - in lucid moments, in delirium, oftentimes in his sleep.
It couldn't be real this time... could it? By instinct, he covered his right eye with his hand. There he still saw the same bloody scene, while on the left eye he saw that there was nothing in front of him: no pool of blood and no motionless corpse. But as what always happened when he tried to disillusion himself, a headache then formed.
Only letting himself relax a bit, Akutagawa began to slowly look for you. He was sure there was blood spilled - although his eyes failed him, his nose never did. The same goes for all his other senses, it seemed, and so he let those four lead them to you.
He landed in front of a mahogany door. The sobbing and shuffling were unmistakable to him despite the thickness of the wood muffling the sounds significantly. He carefully approached and knocked on it lightly before calling out your name.
"Y/N...?"
The whimpering did not stop in the slightest, shaking him further. What if you weren't actually there and his hearing became unreliable as well?
"Y/N, please answer. I need to know you're there..."
His eyes saw fresh blood ooze out of the gap between the door and the floor. No. There was nothing there; his nose and fingers confirmed it. Shit. His delusions were getting worse even if both of his eyes were closed.
"Y/N, please... forgive me-"
There was no way you could, he thought. You shouldn't, you wouldn't, and if it was true that he had hurt you let alone kill you, then he wouldn't forgive himself either.
The gentle creak of the door jolted him despite how soft and slow you opened the door. He was met by a disheveled and tear-stricken you, blood slowly dripping down from your left arm. So many words flashed by in his vision but the only one that came out of his lips was your name.
"Y/N..."
His hand slowly reached for you - although where it aimed to touch it had no idea - as he waited for any sign from you to stop. You seemed fine with it, and his fingers ended up softly landing on the wound. It was just a graze, fortunately, however the bleeding was still continuous.
He unleashed Rashoumon to wrap and put pressure on the wound. "We should get you to a hospital," he said in a low and gentle voice.
You two wordlessly walked to the nearest clinic, almost wordlessly had your wound treated, and just as silently went back home. The entire time his still persistent headache throbbed along with the worries of what exactly it was you were thinking then. How could you still be okay with this? Or were you already planning to leave him then and there? If that was the best for you, then he had no choice than to accept it.
"Ryuu..." It was so affectionate that he thought he was delusional again. "How's your headache?"
His eyes widened at your words. How did you notice that? "It's not so terrible," he replied weakly. Really, it should be him asking how you were.
"That's good."
Before you entered your own room, he pulled on your other arm (gently) to explain himself. His delusions have been getting worse, that's why his instincts targeted you in his anger. That's what happened, wasn't it? But making such excuses was for weak men, and weak as he may be he couldn't bring himself to waste your sanity any further. He decided to apologize, but he ended up staring intensely into your eyes the entire time.
"It's alright. It's really alright."
"It isn't," he quickly asserted. "And it won't happen again."
Your smile, although weak from that night's endeavors, seemed genuine enough to him. It truly must have been real with the way it somehow subsided his headache. Still, it wasn't enough to wipe away the guilt.
And so he had decided to sleep on the couch: a preemptive measure and act of penance. But it wasn't like he could actually sleep after what happened. Most likely he would've spent the entire night reflecting on the incident and on ways to make it up to you.
"What are you doing?" There was a mix of curiosity, confusion, and amusement in your voice. "I've been waiting for you."
Without waiting for him to reply, you pulled on his arm and dragged him to bed. Your arms then wrapped themselves tightly on his waist.
"...isn't it dangerous? I might hurt you again." He was referring to his dreams affecting his physical sleeping, but his mind had pinned a larger meaning to it.
"You might," you answered nonchalantly. "But knowing you, it would never be intentional."
The gentle weight of your head on his chest had always soothed him. "You trust me too much."
"I do. It's because I love you too much, you know?"
You heard a small scoff, but even if you couldn't see his face you knew it accompanied a small smile.
"I don't know how rough you're having it right now, but please know that my love for you is real... just as I know your love for me is real."
Oh, if only you knew how much those words mattered to him- no. It would be too much.
"I love you, Y/N," he whispered as he embraced you tighter.
"I love you too." You then snuggled deeper into his chest. "Good night, Ryuu. Sweet dreams."
Nakajima Atsushi
Atsushi was always afraid that he'd hurt you some way or the other, and so he was always extremely careful with anything that involved you. Even in arguments he did his best to collect himself (not that he got THAT angry anyway - most of the time he just becomes sad) and not break down in front of you spontaneously.
That's why he wasn't sure why he got so worked up this time. Perhaps everything has just been overwhelming recently and you getting angry at him was simply the final straw. Was he truly such a failure at everything to everyone?!
He was grasping a glass of milk to drink and calm himself when the frustration rushed through his blood. His grip tightened and shattered the glass, spilling liquid, shards, and blood everywhere.
Of course, you somehow quickly remained level-headed and tried to attend to his injury.
"Wait let me see your-"
As soon as your hand grazed his, he swatted it away with great force. Leave me alone, it screamed, and you heard the message loud and clear. Too clear, perhaps, since you took a few steps back to counter the impact.
Your silent and intense stare was what brought him out of it. Just the idea of hitting you, let alone that powerfully, was just so unimaginable to him that he began to break down.
It must've been the tiger's uncontrollable strength again - it's always been that. Whenever he loses control himself it's that wild beast that takes over, causing Atsushi to commit acts of savergy.
But there was no ability at that moment. There was no tiger. There was nothing to blame it on, except himself. By instinct, he retreated to himself and fell to the floor, staring at nothing in particular.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N, I didn't know what I was thinking-"
His stammering and shivering were so intense - it was unlike anything you've seen before. Apology after apology came, but did the complete opposite of relieving you.
You slowly approached him, wondering if you should try and touch him again. Usually your gentle shoulder rubs were enough to calm him down.
"Atsushi...?"
More than being hurt once again, you were more afraid that he'd regressed into that place again.
You tried to snap him out of it slowly: gently talking to him, reassuring him, trying to convince him that you weren't going anywhere despite what happened and will happen.
And by some miracle it worked. His tear-stricken eyes met yours, and the softness in them finally returned.
"Are you okay?" You asked once more.
"Y-yeah, I'm fi- No, wait. Are you okay?"
His hand instinctively shot up to check your hand and arm, but it stopped right before it grazed your skin. What the heck was thinking, trying to grab you right after that?
"Oh, don't worry too much. I'm fine. There's no wound and it probably won't bruise."
Atsushi wanted to breathe easily after hearing you say that but there was more to the question that needed answering. Thankfully, you caught on quickly.
"I swear, I'm fine." You smiled at him again and gently pat his head. "You've apologized enough. So let's just clean up this mess, okay?"
Before you could even attempt to stand up, he practically grabbed you and squeezed your whole being as he buried his head in your neck.
"Thank you, Y/N." He whispered before hugging you even tighter. "I love you so, so much. I promise I'll do better next time."
You returned the gesture. Awgh. How much your heart swelled despite what happened. "I love you too, Atsushi."
Taglist: @stygianoir, @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @kunikida-simp
815 notes · View notes
okkotsuslut · 1 year
Text
Revenge
warnings: mdni 18+, oral sex (receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, revenge sex
typed in lowercase, not edited
summary: you catch your boyfriend ran cheating on you. rindou helps you get revenge.
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you had known the haitani brothers for about 6 years now. you met them in high school and started dating ran during your second year.
when the both of them joined bonten, ran started to change. he became distant and work always came first.
it was your 21st birthday and you had planned to go out to a fancy restaurant with him. the two of you were supposed to have left an hour ago but he wasn't responding to his calls or texts.
this wouldn't be the first time he had stood you up.
a few months ago, he left you standing in the rain at the cemetery. it was the date of your parents death and he said he would go with you to visit their grave. after about an hour of standing and waiting for him in the cold, rindou showed up. telling you that ran couldn't make it and he was sorry.
that night you sat in rindou's car crying, while he consoled you.
rindou was always there for you. in high school and even now. whenever his brother would do something questionable he always looked at you with a sad look in his eyes.
one year ran forgot to get you a christmas present and you caught rindou scribbling out his name on the tag and writing "from ran" instead.
rindou was the first person to wish you a happy birthday. sending you a text at midnight and a digital gift card for $500.
you contemplated what to do and decided to send a text to him, asking if he knew where ran was.
he sent you a location and right after said, "don't tell him that i told you."
you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. why was ran at a club right now?
you got in your car and followed the directions to the location that rindou sent.
once you got there, it was pretty hard to miss ran. he was seated in the back of the club with tons of women surrounding him. you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt but he pulled one of the girls onto his lap and started kissing her.
tears spilled out of your eyes as you ran out of the club and back to your car. you were too shocked to confront him. you had to process what you had just seen.
you called rindou and told him to meet you back at your place.
he was already there when you arrived back to your and ran's shared apartment. it was in a beautiful high rise that overlooked the city. rindou's apartment was a floor below yours.
you had finally stopped crying but your face was all red and puffy.
he stood up and walked over to you, placing his hand on your cheek.
"how long?" you questioned, choking back a sob that was threatening to escape.
"about a year." he had a sad look on his face. "i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner."
you looked away, biting your lip to stop it from trembling.
"what can i do for you? i hate seeing you sad." his thumb stroked your cheek.
"help me get revenge." you turned back toward him.
his eyebrows raised and he seemed to think it over for a bit before replying.
"okay. i'll help you with whatever you want to do."
you stood on your tippy toes and placed your hand on the back of his head. you ran your hand through his hair as you leaned in to kiss him.
he was surprised at first but quickly caught on as you deepened the kiss. his hands landed on your ass as he picked you up.
the two of you continues kissing as he walked you over to the couch and threw you down on your back. he nestled himself in between your legs, his hand placed beside your head as he leaned over you.
"are you sure this is what you want to do?" he questioned.
"yes."
your dress was quickly discarded and you worked fast to undress him.
he leaned down and began kissing a trail up your thighs. once he reached your center, he looked at you before burying his head in your thighs. he was relentless with his tongue, eating you out like you were his last meal.
your back arched and you moaned in pleasure as you grabbed a fistful of his hair. just as you felt a pressure building in your core, he pulled away.
trailing kissed up your abdomen and stopping at your breasts to suck and bite on your nipples. he left marks all across your body, claiming you as his.
after leaving a hickey on your neck, he started to kiss you again. he had taken his underwear off and lined himself up at your entrance.
you were shocked by his size. he was big, bigger than ran.
he rubbed his dick up and down your sensitive clit.
your body was practically begging for him to fuck you.
your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust himself into you. your hands were placed on his shoulders, gripping hard as he slammed himself into you, over, and over again.
"fuck" you cried out as you felt him hitting your g spot.
one of his hands reached down, circling your clit as he fucked you. your nailed dug into his back as you moaned his name.
he was softly moaning above you.
"fuck you're so beautiful. y'feel so good." he buried his head in the crook of your neck as he pounded into you.
the both of you reached your climax quickly, crying out each other's name's and cumming at the same time.
he pulled himself out of you and hovered over you for a second while the both of you caught your breaths.
your hand reached down and began stroking his cock.
"i want you to fuck me until ran comes home and finds his ex girlfriend fucked out on his couch by his brother." you stated.
the corner of rindou's mouth raised into a small smirk.
"okay." he said before pushing himself back inside of you and helping you get your revenge.
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myosotisa · 4 months
Text
Chasm - e.m.
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Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
‖  summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.
‖  tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol
‖  word count: 8.3k ‖  read on AO3 ‖  the song ‖
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None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.
So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.
You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.
Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.
Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.
The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.
"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."
Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."
The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.
The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.
Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.
“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.
The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand. 
Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.
“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”
Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.
“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”
The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”
You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.
Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away  – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”
Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.
“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.
"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit. 
“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”
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There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.
“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”
“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him.  “The recording keeps going.”
Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.
There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.
“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?” 
The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.
“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–” 
An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming. 
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.
Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”
The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.
No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”
“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.
“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.
“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”
All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“We wait for it to wake up again.”
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Wake up.
Come on, little lamb.
Wake up now.
Looks so peaceful.
But you’ve got to wake up.
WAKE UP.
There’s something wet on your face.
Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.
Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.
It’s almost like you’re sinking.
Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.
Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?”
You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.
“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.
“Over here.”
The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.
Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.
Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.
“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”
“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”
His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.
“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.
“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.
A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.
Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.
Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.
You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.
“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.
Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.
“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”
He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he? 
“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”
You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”
His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”
Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.
A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.
Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.
With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.
But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.
“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.
“That depends, what year is it?”
Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.
“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”
His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”
This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.
The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.
“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”
“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”
This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”
“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”
So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.
It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.
Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.
So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.
Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.
The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.
Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.
This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.
Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.
“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.
The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.
“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.
The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”
The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”
His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.
A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”
A blink and he’s gone.
Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.
He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.
As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.
You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.
That appears to be the way he prefers it.
“I think we can help each other.”
You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.
“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”
“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.
His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”
Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”
He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”
“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.
“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”
There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”
An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”
“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”
There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.
“What would I need to do?”
His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”
A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”
A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.
“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”
“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”
The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”
“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”
He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.
Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.
Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.
“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”
His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”
“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”
His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”
An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.
“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”
He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”
You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.
The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.
“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”
Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.
It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.
Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.
You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.
He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?
In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.
There’s something moving in your mouth.
You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.
You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”
Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”
His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat. 
“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”
Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.
Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!
“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.
He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”
Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”
“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”
You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”
He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”
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“Sir, we’ve got activity.”
Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.
Since you were dragged through.
There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.
But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.
This is his fault.
He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.
Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.
There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.
“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.
It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.
The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.
“Any news from the fault?”
Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”
Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.
“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”
A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”
“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.
There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”
The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.
The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.
“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”
“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.
“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”
Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”
Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”
“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”
“Yes sir.”
The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.
The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”
Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”
“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.
They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.
“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.
“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”
There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”
“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”
“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”
They all fall silent, listening closely.
Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.
The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”
“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”
“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”
Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”
Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.
There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.
“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.
“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”
The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.
Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.
A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.
A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.
The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.
You’re… You’re actually alive.
Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.
“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”
The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”
The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”
“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.
“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”
You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.
“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.
“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.
The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.
“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”
The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.
“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”
If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.
Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.
Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.
Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.
“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”
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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!
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nikkisheep · 1 month
Text
To Be Alone With You (Part Five)
Anthony Bridgerton x female!sharma!sister!reader
Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Warnings: ANGST, ANGST, oh and more ANGST, Benedict and reader gets closer, reader is heartbroken, so much crying, talk of betrayal
Summary: Weeks after Anthony "dumped" you so he could be more serious in his courtship with your sister, you finally tell him that it is time that you both move on in an emotional confrontation.
I'm so sorry that it got so long. I hope that it's good given that I wrote this at like 12 am.
Song that I feel relates to it in a sense:
Illicit Affairs (Taylor Swift)
Tag List: @shealuna, @m-rae23, @littlepeanut03, @aellabridgerton, @sydney-m, @faatxma, @wildthoughtnananna, @uraesthete, @themadhattersqueen, @sydney-m, @theantiquehobbit, @theroyalmanatee ,@urfavnoirette , @budugu, @helen06dreamer, @galactict3a
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The days passed. The days turned to weeks. The weeks turned into two months. Your days drug on as you prepared yourself for the next outing with your family. You faked a smile, beaming at the right time. Looking at your sisters, smiling and giggling over the hundreds of letters that Anthony wrote to Edwina.
You were staring out the window when you heard your name being called.
"Dear sister, have you read this new letter that Lord Bridgerton sent to me," Edwina beamed like a girl in love.
You turned your head to her, a small sad smile graced your face.
"No, I hadn't."
"I most certainly do not want to." Is what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell her how Anthony only makes those promises of love to you when you are both wrapped at the waist in the sheets of his bed.
Instead you tell her that you were overcome with sleep and preferred to go back to your bedroom. Standing up, you leave the room and put your hand over your mouth as a sob threatens to escape.
You sighed against the bedroom door when it closed and you let the tears fall. You sob right there on your bedroom floor, your dress creating a pool around you as you sank to the floor because your knees couldn't handle the weight of you standing.
You don't try to keep the tears in. You had been waiting to be alone to let them fall. You didn't understand why Anthony couldn't love you.
Why did it have to be you?
Why won't he end the courtship with your sister?
Why did you have to fall in love with him?
-----
The next few days carry the same thing. You smile. You nod. You pretend that you weren't silently dying inside because that is how you should be feeling. You should be happy when you see Anthony kiss Edwina's hand because that is her soon to be husband. He is respectful. He is a gentleman.
----
Your family arrives at the Featherington's house for the annual Featherington ball. Many families of the ton had arrived and were all gossiping to each other in small groups. When the Bridgertons walked in with the Sharmas, the entire room looked over in their direction. All of the Sharmas were there except for you. You had said that you were not feeling like going to the ball. When in fact you had to get ready in your dress that was going to be the best at the ball and you knew that.
You were getting your shoes on when you looked at the window. The night was set and you saw the carriage that waited for you. Stepping out of the house, your deep purple dress trailed behind you a bit. Your dress in the shape of a ball gown that had gems embedded in the fabric. Every time you moved, your dress sparkled. Your hair had one curl that laid gently against your collarbone.
----
Stepping inside the Featherington's home, the entire building went silent as they awaited your next move. Your gloved hands came to rest by your sides and you picked up your dress. You then took a step forward and soon the entire room opened itself up as you cast a smile that could blind anyone who looked too close.
Making your way to the lemonade stand, you bumped into Benedict and you gave him a smile as you looked up to him. You pat him on his arm and he smiles to you.
"You, Miss Sharma, look absolutely gorgeous. I need to have a talk with your Lady's Maid because you look," He said. "Like money doesn't know the price."
You smile and let out a laugh.
"You are too kind with your words, Ben." You set down your glass and then preceded to grab his arm. "Come. Come dance with me."
He leads you to the dance floor, holding your gloved hand. You get in line with everyone else and then preceded to dance. You hand was on his shoulder, his on your hip and holding your hand. You smile at him when he nearly bumps into someone, too busy looking into your eyes.
"Miss Sharma," He started. "I was wondering if you would be interested in another art session."
"As in the same as last time?" You giggle, raising an eyebrow.
"Not quite," He laughed. "I wanted to give you actual art lessons and perhaps actually finish the drawing that I was working on."
"I feel like that can be arranged," You laugh.
"And if anything happens like last time, I may have to marry you."
Your smile falls and you drop his hand.
'Miss Sharma?" You can barely hear him. Your heart was beating too loud.
"Have I said something to offend you?" He asked, confused.
"No, it is not you."
"I feel as though it was. I am terribly sorry for my words that have conflicted hurt onto you."
Just before you could reply, Anthony walked up and greeted his brother.
"I was not aware that you were escorting Miss Sharma to the dance floor," Anthony said. "After all she said that she wouldn't be attending tonight."
He finally turned to you and smiled. You didn't smile back. You eyes were dull. The light had faded from them when seeing Anthony.
"Good evening Lord Bridgerton," You bow quickly.
"I haven't seen you in a long time, Miss Sharma."
You looked at him and wondered if you should even react. You didn't want to see him. You didn't want to talk. But really, you did. You wanted to show him that you were perfectly fine without him.
"You look lovely tonight," he said. " Your dress is beautiful."
He was trying to get a reaction. He wanted to see you swoon for him. At least that is what you thought.
"You look decent." You don't look him in the eyes, knowing that you would fall back to where you started.
"Why thank you. Can I have a dance?"
You nod and you both go to the dance floor. Edwina, Kate and Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury all stand to watch.
Anthony takes your gloved hand and he placed your other hand onto his shoulder. He places his other on your hip and begins to move. His touch burns into your dress. You might as well have had nothing on with how warm his hands felt.
Your eyes are locked with his as you move. His eyes were so full of love and adoration that you almost had to look away. Your hand on his shoulder slides up to cup his neck as you both move along in the steps of the song. Your head comes to rest closer to his shoulder and you could feel his breathe fan over the loose curls on your neck. He brings his hand with yours to his chest and you can feel his heart beat.
When you look back in his eyes, it feels like it's just the two of you and no one else was here. It was the two of you and you would stay like this forever. His eyes told you everything you had whispered into the night together.
"I love you more than you will ever know."
---
"Don't they look like they are having fun?" Edwina asked. "I knew that if they spent time together that they would grow to like each other."
The other ladies looked at her.
"I do believe that they do make a good dancing couple," Lady Danbury said.
"A handsome dancing couple," Edwina agreed.
She soon left as Kate was left with the two women.
"Kate, tell me, has your sister always been terrible at hiding her feelings?" Lady Danbury said.
Kate looked confused.
"Her feelings about what?"
"It's more about who." She said as she turned Kate's head gently to the direction in which you were dancing with Anthony.
"Lord Bridgerton?" Kate asked.
"Indeed it seems that they have feelings for each other."
"Lady Danbury you believe that anyone around Lord Bridgerton is in love with him," Kate said.
"Not everyone. You are not."
"Well....no."
"Just keep an eye on them and see what I see," Lady Danbury said. "Now run along."
Kate left to find a glass of lemonade.
"Lady Bridgerton, your son is absolutely enthralled with that girl." Lady Danbury said with a knowing smirk.
"Miss Sharma and my son are not in love," Violet said. "They can't be. He is engaged to her sister."
They look back to you and Anthony. Your eyes seem to never leave each other. Both of your lips were parted slightly as you look like you can't see anything else but each other.
"The eyes can't tell a lie, Violet."
---
"I am sorry for how I left things between us," Anthony said.
"Why?"
"I didn't want things to end that way."
"But they did and now it's over. We are over."
"Over?"
You look at him for a second. You see a man who doesn't realize that he did this to the both of you.
"You ruined us when you decided to court my sister."
"I was courting her before I met you."
"Then you should have never gotten involved with me."
"I wasn't the only one who was involved," He said, pulling the two of you outside away from others. "You were also there in that lake when this all started. I asked you if it was okay and you said yes."
"I didn't know that-"
"You knew that you were betraying your sister and dishonoring yourself but you still did it so do not stand here and twist the blame onto me. I am not the only one who betrayed Edwina."
"You told me you loved me. You promised me that you loved me."
"And I never lied," He said, emotion slipping in. "You were..."
"Then why does it feel like a lie?" You started to feel emotional. "Why did you have to propose to my sister? Why did you have to make me love you?" You fall against him as you sob into his chest. Your hands ball up into fists and you slightly smack them against his chest.
"Why did you make me love you? You sob again. "Why am I not good enough for you to marry instead?"
"You are good enough. You are way too good." Anthony said as he holds you in his arms as your body shakes with sobs.
"What does she have that I don't?" You cry. "What makes you want her to marry her but not me?"
"I can't love her because she isn't you."
Your face is red with tears streaming down your face as you wipe your nose with the back of your handkerchief. You blankly stare at him with tears in your eyes.
"I love you. Can't you see that I'm doing all of this because I love you," Anthony said, desperation creeping into his voice.
"You love me and yet you are still going to marry my sister," You cry. "Someone you do not even love. Why can you not marry someone you love?"
"I have my reasons," He said, thinking of how his mother was after his father died.
"I need to stop loving you," You said.
"You....what?"
" I need to be free of the torment that you have inflicted onto me," You say, calming yourself down. "I need to be with someone else. I'm sorry."
"Wait-"
"Good night, Lord Bridgerton."
And you left the ball without looking back.
339 notes · View notes
owliellder · 8 months
Text
The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.
Cross posted onto AO3
Session 2: Color Matching
You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.
It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.
You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.
That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.
Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.
It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.
You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.
Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.
"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.
"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"
You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."
Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."
You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.
"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."
Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.
"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."
It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"
"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."
"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.
He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.
By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"
The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."
You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.
"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.
"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..
Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."
It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.
"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."
He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...
"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."
"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.
"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.
Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.
You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.
"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."
Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.
As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.
"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"
Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-
"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"
You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"
"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."
You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.
"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."
You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."
His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."
Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.
You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.
You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.
Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.
"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."
Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.
"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.
You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.
"I'm sorry."
Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.
You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.
"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."
It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.
"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.
"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.
"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.
"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."
Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.
"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.
You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.
It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.
You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.
Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.
He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.
You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.
You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.
You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"
Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.
"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.
The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.
"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.
"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.
Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."
You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.
After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.
615 notes · View notes
cheolism · 1 year
Text
First
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✧ seungkwan x reader
✧ summary: you and seungkwan were new to relationships, and netiher of you felt rushed to do anything. six months in, and you both still haven't had sex. but then you start looking at his hands and thighs, and find you just can't help yourself.
✧ wc is approx 5.8k
✧ warnings/tags: virgin! reader, virgin! seungkwan; seungkwan is mentioned to be reader's first kiss. pet names, tons of consent; reader has a wild mind. reader is female-coded. awkward and sweet first times, laughter during sex. riding thighs; fingering; cumming in underwear. reader is demi coded. confessions during sex. seungkwan gets called (jokingly) princess except now i'm thinking abt it more. seungkwan is a romantic; mingyu is nosey; seungcheol has bad movie taste (sorry bb)
✧ note: send me a message if you think any more tags/warnings should be added! not edited. google told me i switch between british grammar and american, so if there's extra vowels thrown into places just ignore it :)
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Seungkwan never made you feel rushed. 
The two of you walked the path of your relationship at your own pace. Mingyu said the two of you were moving slowly, too slowly, but you never felt like you were. Your relationship moved at its own pace, one comfortable to the both of you, and neither of you minded it. 
Your first kiss had been in your front hallway as he dropped you off after your first official date. He had bitten his lip, glancing between your mouth and eyes as you talked about how you had enjoyed the night. 
Then, you let your smile blossom. You stepped to him, the tip of your shoe brushing against his. “You can kiss me if you want to,” you had muttered, looking at his pretty mouth. “But know you’ll be my first, so I won’t know what to do.”
Seungkwan’s answering smile was brilliant, and he slowly reached up to cup your face. His hands were large, encompassing your cheeks. He lowered his face, nose brushing yours. “Is it bad that makes me happy? Knowing I’ll be your first kiss?”
Your hands made their way into his shirt, curling into the fabric and tugging. You pushed up, letting your lips brush against his in answer. 
During a truth and dare session that followed after your first kiss, Mingyu, who made it his business to know your business, asked you when your first kiss was. When you had answered honestly, that it was only a few weeks before and with Seungkwan, Mingyu had gasped, as if it was rare for someone your age to have gone all this time without kissing. 
But, remembering how Seungkwan’s lips gently moved against yours, pressing and giving and guiding, you couldn’t be bothered to be offended. Not when you knew how precious your first kiss had been; not when you had shared it with Boo Seungkwan. 
Despite Seungkwan’s experience in kissing, which he assured you was hardly any, the relationship between the two of you brought a lot of new experiences for the both of you. Neither of you had really dated before one another, finding a different sort of loneliness in your young adulthood that your friends never seemed to share. 
“I’ve never brought someone to meet my grandma,” Seungkwan admitted as you parked outside his grandma’s home. 
“I’ve never kissed anyone in a theater before,” Seungkwan confessed as you pulled away from where you had leaned across the seat.
“No one’s ever called me that before,” Seungkwan admitted as you mouthed against his neck one evening, a breathy darling leaving your lips. 
“I’ve never spent Valentines with a partner,” He had laughed as the two of you were rejected from the restaurant, which was filled to the brim with couples who had the same idea as you for the Valentines evening. 
“I’ve never had sex before,” He had blurted during the evening of your fourth-month anniversary. You blinked from across the kitchen island at him, holding the saucepan in one hand and the wooden spoon in the other as you were preparing his pasta plate. “Just -- just in case you’re wanting . . .”
“Well, I’m not in a rush if you’re not.”
And so it was just another thing the two of you had decided to breach when the moment came. You didn’t want to plan for it; didn’t want to force the moment. It would happen when it did, and the best either of you could do was prepare for when it did happen. 
Not that you didn’t want to. 
Sometimes you looked at Seungkwan and couldn’t help but feel a need, a desperation, that was entirely foreign. One that had you battling the urge to grab him from where he stood talking to Seokmin, laughing and brushing back his stray bangs that had managed to escape his pushed-back hair, pulling him away from his friend and into the car for some privacy. 
One horrifying time it had happened when he was cooing at a baby. He was reaching out, fingers brushing against the infant’s soft cheek, complimenting her on how sweet she was. Seungkwan’s lips were curling, obviously endeared by the baby, eyes soft and gentle and filled with a sort of adoration that reminded you of how he looked at you.
You were absolutely appalled at your urge to whisk him away from the baby and jump him, to press your hands underneath his shirt and feel his stomach flex as you pressed desperate kisses to his neck and collar. 
Seungkwan was turning you into some sort of degenerate. Some wanton, promiscuous, shameless, licentious creature that woke up with soaked underwear and the image of Seungkwan’s bare thighs still at the forefront of your mind.
Even now, sitting next to Seungkwan and watching a movie, those salacious thoughts sent wetness gushing from your pussy and had you shifting in your seat, fighting to keep your cool.
It wasn’t as if the two of you were watching anything pornographic. It was some movie Seungcheol had suggested, one with too many fights and villains and not enough plot or good writing. You had attempted to watch it, of course you had. Date night, whether it was sitting on your couch and watching a movie or walking alongside the river, hand in hand, was something that never failed to brighten your day and put a smile on your face. 
But after another cliche, misogynistic comment by the red-headed love interest who served as nothing more than a plot device, you rolled your eyes and chanced a look at Seungkwan. Seungkwan didn’t like action movies, had gotten bored watching the Dark Night and would much rather see a good romance (your first “argument” had been over whether Love, Actually, was actually any good and how only two aspects of the movie didn’t salvage the entire thing from being bad). 
The romance between the lead and the love interest was enough to keep Seungkwan keyed in on the movie. He watched with wide eyes as the red head pressed a kiss to the lead’s lips before rushing away, ashamed at her bravery. 
Your Boo Seungkwan was so fucking cute, you couldn’t help but think. There was a blush on his cheeks and on his ears as he watched the lead run after the red head and sweep her up into a classic Hollywood-style kiss. He watched eagerly, practically drinking the scene up. 
Then he licked his lips and it was game over for you. 
Seungkwan’s mouth, which you had stared at far too often, was small and pouty and constantly tempting. A day without kissing Seungkwan was a day wasted, in your opinion. 
His hair was slightly wavy from the shower he took before coming over, brown bangs brushing against the edges of his eyes, where his lower and upper lids kissed. It had grown longer in the months the two of you had been dating, and you never ever dared complain. 
From his hair your gaze went to his ears. There was your favorite place to kiss besides his lips (and neck and collar and shoulder and the spot where his neck and collar met, and his --). Three beauty marks, perfectly spaced, practically begging for the brush of your lips. 
Movement brought your eyes from his ears. Seungkwan’s eyes were still trained on the movie, but he had begun pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie. His forearms flexed, veins appearing, and you were transfixed as you watched his hands, his impossibly beautiful and elegant hands, slid up his forearms to push up his sleeves. His fingers were long and smooth, the veins of his hands prominent. 
What did it say about you, you wondered, that you had dreams of those hands. That you had dreamt before about his hands running up your thighs, fingers skimming the hem of your shorts; his fingers pressing against the wet spot in your underwear, the tips of his fingers dipping underneath the waistband of your underwear; the pads of his fingers brushing against your clit. 
Fuck. 
Your heart in your throat, you shifted against the couch. The insides of your thighs brushed against your underwear, the cold wetness that soaked it shocking you. 
“This is a good movie,” Seungkwan said, bringing your attention from where his hands had settled on his thighs. “I really like the romance in it.”
You glanced at the screen. The lead was verbally fighting his mentor in a moment that would, surely, lead to a horrific death scene from the mentor where the lead was choking out apologies. “Yeah. I can see why Seungcheol liked it.”
Seungkwan hummed. Your eyes went back to his thighs. 
His thighs. Seungkwan opted for wearing shorts more often than not, and everytime you were gifted with the sight of his smooth, tanned skin you wanted to fall to your knees. His thighs were meaty from hours filled with cardio, and you constantly wanted to dig your fingers into the flesh and feel. 
You wanted to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his thighs in worship; suck them, nibble at them, listen to Seungkwan’s breathy whines as you teased him. You wanted to feel them squeeze around your shoulders as you took his cock into your mouth, wanted to feel them beneath your own thighs as you bounced on his cock. 
You could feel the wetness that trickled from your pussy, could the slide of it. Your pussy clenched around nothing in desperation. Shame flooded through you, and you took a heavy breath, feeling as though you hadn’t been breathing all this time. 
Thighs clenching, you threw one over the other and squeezed in an attempt to quench your thirst. 
All it did, however, was get Seungkwan’s attention. Your boyfriend glanced at you, head tilted. “You okay?”
You smiled at him, reaching out and setting your hand on his and squeezing. “Yeah. Just getting hungry is all.”
“We can order something now, if you want,” Seungkwan offered. “I can pause the movie.”
You laughed breathlessly, leaning against him and burrowing your face into his shoulder. Seungkwan smelled good, as he always did. Like laundry softener and lavender, cotton sheets and freshness. 
“We can order after.” You said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s not so bad.”
Seungkwan angled his head to press an awkward kiss to your hair. Then he went back to watching the movie. 
The hunger in your stomach was nothing compared to the hunger, lust, you felt for him. 
You licked your lips, eyeing the full curve of his cheeks and the hardness of his jaw. Like a parched man offered a cup of water, you desperately drank him in. The stretch of his neck, unmarked; the beauty marks near his ear; the angle of his fingers as he reached up and brushed his bangs away from his eyes, how they softly settled back on his thighs. 
Seungkwan’s navy blue shorts had ridden up, revealing the meatiness of his thighs that had you swallowing nothing, pussy clenching around nothing. 
You wanted your mouth on those thighs, wanting your hands on them. You wanted to be sat on them, pussy grinding down, clit dragging against his bare skin and riding them. 
Slowly, without drawing his attention from the movie, your hand went to his thigh. Seungkwan’s hand went to yours, fingers lacing together instinctively, and you wanted to curse at your boyfriend’s innocence while you were suffering. 
You took your time unwinding your hand from his. First you started with your thumb brushing gently against his warm skin. Then you shifted your hands so only your middle three fingers were tangled with his, your pinky laying against his thigh and thumb constantly kissing his skin. 
Seungkwan huffed when you fully separated your hands, turning to you with a pout. “Why aren’t you holding my hand, Y/n?”
You chuckled at his whine, peering up at him. Your heart was full of adoration for the boy next to you, and you wondered if your eyes were dripping honey from how sweet he made you feel. 
How ironic it was that Seungkwan had your heart feeling as if it would burst out sunshine while also making your pussy constantly gushed wetness. 
“What a baby,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Why don’t you put your arm around me so we can cuddle, baby?”
Seungkwan huffed, still looking offended. But he did as you suggested, his arm going around your shoulders and hugging you to his side. His warmth melted into you, and the position leaning into him, one of your thighs over the other, allowing you to frantically squeeze in a foolish attempt to ease the throbbing of your pussy. 
However, this position allowed you to do something important. 
With his hand brushing against your shoulder, it gave you free reign over his thigh. You settled your hand on his thigh, face towards the television in an attempt to make it seem mindless. His thigh flexed against your hand before relaxing, and you squeezed in response. 
The two of you sat for a handful of moments, Seungkwan content while your fingers brushed against his thighs. He was deeply immersed in the movie still, watching as the mentor was killed by the villian. 
Your hand shifted, sliding up his thigh and stopping where his shorts had ridden up. You tapped your forefinger against his flesh, trying to keep up the relaxed appearance. 
You wanted to suffocate between his thighs. Wanting to take them into your mouth and suck and bite, wanting to pinch and listen to his cries as you swallowed around his cock and knead them. Wanted to hold onto them as you dragged your throat down his cock, his length bringing tears to your eyes as you swallowed his cock back down and took it deep. 
Your pussy gushed again. You couldn’t salvage your underwear, no way. 
Maybe you could take them off and leave them somewhere he could see, you wondered. You imagined him taking notice of your underwear, imagined the red blush that would take over his face. Imagined him bending down, hesitant as he reached to grab them. Imagined him feeling the wet spot left by your pussy; him slowly bringing your underwear up and to his nose, smelling the fragrance of your cunt. 
Fuck, fuck. 
Your hand moved again, sliding underneath his shorts and towards his inner thigh. You still fought to look at the television. 
Seungkwan sucked in a breath from beside you. He snapped his head towards you as you squeezed the fat of his thigh, your name leaving his lips in something crossed between a warning and a sigh. 
You glanced at him, brows furrowed in false confusion. “Something wrong, darling?”
He stared at you for a moment more. You waited for him to admonish you, for him to ask you to remove your hand; for him to draw the line. You’d stop, of course, would retract your hand and press a kiss to his cheek in apology. 
But he did none of those things. Instead Seungkwan pressed his lips together, narrowed his eyes at you, and then went back to watching the movie. 
Grinning and feeling like the cat that got the canary, your hand sunk further into his shorts. Seungkwan took a long, shuddering breath as your fingers brushed against the edge of his underwear. You played with the edge, smoothing your fingers over and under it, nails brushing against his skin. 
“How’s the movie, baby?”
Seungkwan tightened his jaw. “Good.”
“It’s good?” You responded, biting at your lip to suppress your grin and doing a bad job of it. Seungkwan nodded. 
You shifted, turning on your side and rising. His eyes immediately snapped to you. “Keep watching the movie, baby. You said it was good.”
“What are you --”
“Don’t pay me any attention,” you said. When Seungkwan didn’t look away from you, your free hand went to his jaw. You softly nudged his face with your fingers, turning it from you and to the television. “That’s a good boy.”
The answering inhale from Seungkwan had your pussy clenching once more. You hummed, moving to your knees. You pressed your face into his neck, nose pressing against his warm skin, lips ghosting. Your hand pressed up the fabric of his shorts, bearing his thigh, before it settled over the bulge pressing against his underwear. 
Seungkwan let out another shaky breath, his eyebrows furrowing. The arm that was around you moved, clutching at your shirt. 
You kissed his neck, keeping your hand still. “You good?”
He hummed, a slightly shrill noise. 
“Shall I keep going?”
You could feel his answering nod against your head. “I need words, babe.”
“Please,” he begged, voice breathy and the hand in your shirt repositioning to grab more of it and clench. A blush high onto his cheeks. 
You pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his skin. Slowly, gently, you began moving your hand against his clothed dick. Your hand moved in a constant soothing motion, rubbing. “You might have to tell me what to do, baby.”
“Touch --” Seungkwan cleared his throat. You kissed his neck again, though this was unlike any of the innocent kisses you had been laying. You kissed his neck as if you were kissing his mouth, lips rolling against his skin. “Touch me, please.”
“I am,” you reminded him. You pressed your heel down on his bulge in proof. 
Seungkwan moved his face towards you. His face was still flushed, his brows still furrowed and lips still pouting. His dark eyes were wide, pupils large. “Please.”
You pulled away from him in response. He made a protesting noise, moving to reach for you and pull you back. You moved farther away from him, hands meeting his and stopping him. “Take off your hoodie, Seungkwan.”
He compiled, making quick work of his baby blue hoodie and throwing it to the floor. Seungkwan’s shoulders had broadened due to his hard work at the gym, and the muscle on his biceps were impressive. 
You drank him in eagerly. His chest wasn’t as tanned as the rest of him, but it still had you practically drooling. Working out had given definition to his chest, had given weight to his pecs. You wondered what they would feel like in your hands, what they would look like decorated with red and purple bruises left by your mouth.
His breathless whine of your name brought you out of your imagination. You stood from the couch, hands going to the waist of your pants. “This okay, Kwannie?”
At his answering nod, you were shoving your pants down to your ankles. You kicked them off, ignoring Seungkwan’s shocked inhale, and then were climbing on top of him. 
Your hands went to his shoulders, pushing him back and flush against the couch. You straddled one of his thighs, knees on either side with one brushing against his bulge. His hands went to your shirt, yours smoothing down his biceps and squeezing the muscle. “Tell me if you’re nervous. Okay?”
Seungkwan laughed breathlessly. “Of course I’m nervous. I’m about to lose my virginity to the love of my life.”
Your eyes widened, and his immediately followed suit. Both of you froze against one another, hands still, breaths suspended. 
Then your heart swelled, feeling as though someone had filled it with sun. You laughed breathlessly, hands sliding up his biceps and shoulders to cradle his neck. Pressing close, you brought your mouth to his and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 
“And the love of my life is a massive dork,” you said, nose pressing against his cheek. 
His mouth sought yours in answer, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers sinking into the strands and tugging. His tongue went to the seam of your lips and you opened them easily, tongue sliding against his. 
Seungkwan’s hands began wandering, moving from your shirt to the hem. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, pressing against the base of your spine. Seungkwan broke away from the kiss, his mouth smeared with spit. “This okay?”
“It’s okay,” you returned, taking his lower lip between your lips and sucking. Seungkwan moaned, a deep sound that seemed so at odds with your lovely boy. 
His hands went up your back, nails scraping against your skin. Your mouth wandered from his, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chin and underneath it. One of your hands moved from his hair, ghosting over his chest. You felt his stomach jump underneath your fingers as you pressed your palm there. “Okay?”
Seungkwan nodded. You took pity on him and didn’t ask again. Your mouth skimmed his neck before attaching to the part where it met his shoulder, taking the skin between your teeth and before sucking. His chest moved against yours as he sucked in a deep breath. 
Then you settled your hand over his bulge, squeezing through his shorts. Seungkwan let out a loud groan in response, his neck straining as he tossed his head back. 
You began marking in earnest in response to his moans and groans, hand smoothing over his dick, rubbing it through the fabric. His nails began to dig into the skin of your back, scraping and pinching.
Soon enough Seungkwan began panting, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. You shifted, sucking another hickey onto his collar, before pulling away. “Hold onto me. Okay, baby?”
Seungkwan’s hands moved from your back to your hips, holding as you asked. You sat back, separating your torso from his and taking a good look at your boyfriend. His blush not only was on his cheeks but spread down his neck, the flush joining the red blossoms left by your mouth in painting a picture of a debauched man. 
His thigh flexed beneath you. Taking the opportunity, you grinded down. Your pussy dragged against his thigh, creating a faint spark of friction that sent another gush of fluid. 
Seungkwan gasped, mouth dropping open and head tipping. “Fuck,” he hissed, brows meeting. “Fuck. You’re so fucking wet.”
You laughed, grinding down again. His hands gripped at your hips, nails digging in. You took care to ensure your clit dragged down, the movement making your mouth go ajar and hips cock forward once more in an attempt to feel the relief once more.
“Can you,” Seungkwan began, his voice deep and dark and sending another gush of wetness out of your pussy and further soaking your underwear. Seungkwan let out a little moan at feeling the wetness taint your underwear, soaking his bare thighs. “Can you cum? Just from that?”
“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I feel like I could.”
Then your hands were back on him, going to his waistband. You used one hand to pry open his shorts and underwear, holding it open for your other hand to slide down his pelvis, feeling the little curls of the hair there brush against your palm. 
When your fingers brushed against the base of his dick, you couldn’t help but pause. Your eyes went up to his, unsure. Seungkwan’s hands squeezed your hips. “You don’t have to. We can -- we can stop.”
You shook your head. You moved your hand, skin gliding against his dick. It felt impossibly big and heavy in your hand. Seungkwan shivered, eyes fluttering shut and head going back to rest against the couch. 
More curious than anything, you moved your hand over his dick, exploring. You mapped the veins of it, following them down to the head. You pushed your thumb against the head, wetness from it spurting out onto your hand. 
Seungkwan let out a weak exhale. “We -- usually I use lube or something. It. It makes it easier.”
You retracted your hand from his pants. You offered it to him, palm out. Seungkwan closed his eyes, inhaling. Then he leaned forward, tongue poking out from his mouth. He began running his tongue over your hand, spreading his spit. 
Absent-mindedly you began rocking your hips, grinding your pussy against his thigh once more. His tongue ran over your palm and fingers, coating it in his spit. You thought about his tongue on your wrist, your shoulder; then your breast, dragging down your stomach and to your pussy. 
You leaned forward against his thigh, bearing down on him and grinding down aggressively. You lowered your head, hair falling and framing your face. One of Seungkwan’s hands left your hips, moving to grab the wrist of the hand he had been licking -- licking!!!! 
Seungkwan tugged. You looked up. “Here. Get off for a moment.”
You did as he asked, stumbling. Seungkwan raised his hips off the couch, pulling down his shorts and letting them drop beside the couch. Then he shimmied away, moving so he was laying down the length of the couch. He looked embarrassed, laying there, nearly entirely bare for your eyes. 
“Get on me,” Seungkwan said, though it sounded more like a question than anything. “Straddle my -- my --” 
His face was a brilliant shade of red, and he turned away from you to look at the ceiling. Once Seungkwan wasn’t looking at you he was able to speak. “Straddle my dick and grind down on it.”
Never one to object from a good idea, you slowly made your way on top of Seungkwan. Your knees dug into the couch on either side of his hips, and when you positioned yourself so your pussy was directly over his clothed dick, the both of you let out matching moans. 
His hands went to your hips again. Seungkwan slowly began guiding you into a gentle rocking motion, letting your pussy guide up and down his bulge, letting you grind down on him and use his length. 
You leaned forward, hands bracing on his chest. His loud pants and broken moans filled your ears, clouding your brain. You dragged your pussy down his length and back up it, using it like you would your own hand. Each drag was delicious, had you shoving yourself back down and searching for more friction, for more press. 
“Wait,” Seungkwan panted. You looked up at him. He was breathing heavily, bangs beginning to stick to his forehead from his sweat. “I’ll -- I think I’ll come from this.”
“Just from this?” You asked, brow furrowed. You grinded down on him and Seungkwan let out a loud groan in response, eyes fluttering and tipping his head back. 
Delighted, you kept on moving on top of Seungkwan, watching him. Your boyfriend was always so expressive. You knew when he was mad, irritated, when he was happy or amused. Watching him now, brows furrowed, face red and mouth parted with sweet moans escaping his lips, you had another face to add to your mental catalogue.
Then his jaw dropped; his grip on your hips tightened and his hips were bucking up, a loud, low moan ripping from his mouth. You watched, amazed, as Seungkwan thrusted up into you twice more before his voice broke off. 
He stilled beneath you, going lax. Seungkwan’s chest heaved, and his hands left your hips to hide his face. He let out a high little whine. “I can’t believe I did that.”
You shifted up his body, reaching for his hands and prying them away from his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Seungkwan pouted, sticking out his lower lip. “I’m fine. Just have to live with the knowledge that I came in my pants the first time I ever had sex for the rest of my life.”
You laughed, leaning down and kissing his pout. “It’s okay,” you giggled, kissing his mouth twice more before moving to kiss his cheeks. “It’s cute.”
Seungkwan narrowed his eyes at you. His hands returned to your body, and then he was moving you off of him. You went easily, letting Seungkwan guide you to lay against the other end of the couch. “What’s up, babe?”
“Your turn,” Seungkwan announced, determination heavy on his tongue. He grabbed two pillows that had fallen off the couch. Seungkwan settled one beneath your head; his fingers ran down over your shirt before he found your hips, lifting them up to settle the other pillow. “This good?”
You hummed, shaking your hips. “Comfy as can be!”
Seungkwan huffed. Then his fingers -- his long, beautiful fingers that you dreamt of -- were pulling down at your underwear. You lifted your hips off the pillow so he could guide them down your legs. Seungkwan dropped them beside the couch, and you watched, tongue flicking out to run over your lips in anticipation, as his hands went to your ankles. 
For a moment he just stared at you. Like you were a piece of art, a Mona Lisa amongst masterpieces, an angel amongst humans. His dark eyes took in your wild hair, the heaving of your chest; where your shirt had ridden up, revealing the soft curve of your stomach, the hair surrounding your pussy. 
“Tell me when to stop.” Seungkwan said. His hands ran along your legs as he spread them out, making room to be between them. Goosebumps raised along the trail his fingers left behind. 
Your pussy gushed in anticipation. Your heart seemed to stop, and you know for a fact your brain did. His fingers hovered over your thighs, ghosting your skin. 
Then his hands were on your pussy. One of his hands held it open, fingers splayed around your lips. His other hand went to your clit, thumb attaching itself to it. Immediately you gasped, hips bearing down in an attempt to seek more.
Seungkwan laughed breathlessly, watching. His thumb pressed down on your clit, offering itself. “God. You really are soaked. I didn’t realize you could get so wet.”
You furrowed your brow. One of your hands gripped at the cushion beneath you, the other moving to grip at the cushion pressed against your side. You continued grinding down on his thumb, feeling the friction mount within your gut. 
Seungkwan continued talking all the while, eyes still watching your pussy. As he talked he maneuvered his hand, fingers brushing against your entrance. “I knew pussies --” Another wave of wetness escaped from your pussy after that word, that crude, horrid, delightful word, left his lips. “-- got wet. But fuck. Your underwear was drenched, baby. And your pussy? It’s soaking. If I put my mouth down there I’d fucking drown, I think.”
The image of Seungkwan’s head between your thighs, mouth attaching itself to your pussy and clit, sent a moan from your lips. His fingers continued moving, one of them dipping into your entrance. “It’s like. It’s like your pussy is begging me to put something in.”
“Please,” You whispered, hips bucking into his hold. “Please, Kwannie.”
Then two of his fingers were dipping inside you. If he tried to move slowly, it was to no avail; your pussy greedily sucked him in, squeezing around his digits as if they were his dick instead. 
You gasped, feeling as his fingers, which had a better angle than yours ever did, stretched your walls. He didn’t move them much, shifting every few seconds. His thumb continued to work against your clit, however, and you felt something tightening in your gut, as if someone was pulling a string taut. 
“Fuck,” Seungkwan breathed, “fuck you’re beautiful.”
And then the string was cut, and your orgasm washed over you in wave after wave. Seungkwan kept pressing his thumb against your clit, his fingers inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as your body tightened and released, and as it released you felt as if every single worry you ever had about anything left with the tension. 
Slowly, as to not harm you, Seungkwan removed his fingers. You let out a soft little whine as he did, eyes opening just enough to watch him. He held his hand up, splaying out his fingers. Your fluids glistened in the light, strings of it connecting his fingers. 
You forced your eyes shut. Seungkwan shifted off the couch. For a moment there was quiet. 
“Uh. I didn’t bring another pair of underwear.”
You looked at him. He had your discarded pants in one hand, the other hand burrowed into the fabric -- no doubt getting your fluids off of his hand. You looked over his body, taking in the muscles of his thighs and calves and arms. The golden skin, the beauty marks and moles that decorated him. 
You wanted to press him to the bed and kiss each and every single mark.
For another time, you decided. Instead you slowly moved into a sitting position, kicking out the pillow from beneath your hips. “I’ll have to throw them into the wash. I think I have something that’ll fit you.”
“It’ll take all night to get clean,” Seungkwan mumbled, pouting. 
You grinned, opening your arms. Seungkwan dropped your pants and went to you, sliding his arms around your shoulders and yours going around his middle. You pressed a kiss to his stomach, enjoying the feel of it against your cheek. 
“Then you’ll just have to stay the night.”
Seungkwan sighed. “I guess.”
You mocked him, screwing up your face and peering at him. “How horrible of me to offer for my boyfriend, who took my first kiss and my virginity, to spend the night. Should’ve kicked you out as soon as I finished.”
“Please,” Seungkwan said, rolling his eyes. “You were so wowed by my performance you couldn’t even move.”
You burrowed your face back into his stomach. “Whatever you say, princess. I’ll throw the clothes into the wash, you order our food? And we can just eat in bed and cuddle?”
Seungkwan hummed, fingers running along your shoulders. His hands settled on either side of your head, moving your face from his stomach. You pouted up at him. “I mean, I guess that’ll be all right. I suppose you want Mexican.”
You nodded, lips parting in a wide smile. Seungkwan laughed, and then he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll have to start the movie over again.”
“What movie?”
Seungkwan paused, pulling away to look down at you. “Uh. The movie Seungcheol recommended?”
“Oh,” you said. “Okay. So. Here’s the thing. That movie fucking sucks.”
Seungkwan’s eyes widened. “But -- the romance! The chemistry between the mains! You can’t tell me that you don’t see it!”
You stood. The wetness between your thighs had begun to stick, and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, no. We’re not watching it.”
“But --” Seungkwan pouted, sticking out his lips and widening his eyes. It was his classic puppy-eyed look, the one that had you handing everything to him on a silver platter. “But baby! If you love me like you said you do, you’ll replay the movie and watch it with me!”
Sighing, you went to him. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, rising to your heels and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I do love you, Boo Seungkwan. So much.
“But I don’t love you that much.”
1K notes · View notes
willalove75 · 8 months
Note
Hey! I was wondering if you could do Alcina x stone top reader, like Alcina try to take control like she usually does but ultimately fails and get ✨DEMOSLISHED✨ on her desk.
I hope you see this, I thank you in advance :)
Hiya!! Thanks so much for the request!
My brain wasn't able to come up with a scenario where I was able to make this work with her canon measurements so I'm making this more of an AU where she's human sized. I hope you enjoy!
Tags: dom!reader, smut, degradation, praise
Warnings: 18+ Only. Minors DNI
It was a cold night in the castle and you were all alone in bed. Your wife, Alcina, was still working and when you glanced over at the clock you realized it was almost midnight. She went back into her office after dinner and you haven't seen her since.
The financial quarter was nearing its end and she had a ton of paperwork to finish for the vineyard but lately she's been working herself to the bone. For over a week she's been coming to bed after you've fallen asleep and is gone by the time you wake up. You've tried to talk to her about going easy on herself but she's as stubborn as they come and doesn't give your suggestion a second thought.
Alcina has been stressed in a multitude of ways and neither of you have been able to relieve your sexual frustration in nearly two weeks. Tonight you've reached your breaking point. She promised she would be in bed early, that she would reward you for being so patient. Since she still hasn't shown, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
You throw a sweatshirt on over your pajamas and cross the vast castle to the wing where her study resides. The stone floors are cold beneath your feet and it's so silent you think you can hear your heartbeat ricochet off of the walls. You've never gotten used to the castle at night. It's always been eerie. Even when you were first hired as the groundskeeper, being here at night freaked you out a little. Nevertheless, you trek on.
Once you reach her study door you give the thick wood a few light knocks, not wanting to startle your wife inside.
"Come in." A tired and frustrated voice replies.
When you walk in you see Alcina sitting behind her desk with her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
"Hey." You say as you walk in.
"Draga, what are you-" She glances over at the clock and her face falls. "Oh, shit." She mutters. "I'm so sorry draga mea, I didn't realize how late it was."
Alcina removes her glasses as she stands and walks around to the front of her desk where she meets you. You rest your hands on her hips and she drapes her arms around you neck. She gazes into your eyes before leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.
"You said you would be in bed two hours ago, my love." You whisper against her lips before moving to press light kisses into her neck.
"I know draga, I'm sorry." She says, leaning her head to the side to give you more access.
Your start to kiss her neck a little harder and nip at her skin causing her to sharply inhale.
"Come to bed."
"I can't, I still have-" her breath hitches in her throat when you suck on her pulse point. "I still have some paperwork to" her breath hitches again. "to finish."
"It can wait."
"I can't-" her words are cut off by a groan when you slip your knee between her legs and press up into her.
With your hands firmly grasping her hips, you rock them against you as you continue to mark up her neck. Alcina bits her lip to keep her moans at bay and grabs at the back of your head. With every rock of her hips against your leg you can feel her wetness against your skin grow through her lace panties.
"Oh, draga." She moans into your shoulder.
"You're so wet." You mumble into her soft skin. "Let me have you, iubirea mea."
A low growl rumbles in her throat and you can feel its vibration against your lips. When you first started working at the castle you barely spoke Romanian but Alcina taught you some words. Speaking to her in her native language is one of your secret weapons since you know how much it gets her going.
You press up into her a little harder and a moan slips from her lips. Alcina pushes you down into the chair behind you and straddles your lap. She grabs the hair on the back of your head and pulls at it, kissing you hard.
As someone who considers themselves a stone top, it's not uncommon for you and Alcina to fight for dominance in bed. Every so often you'll relent and let her take over or she'll win the battle you two playfully fight. Tonight however, she broke her promise and you're not letting her off the hook that easily.
Grabbing her thighs you stand up from the chair and lift her onto her desk. Some of the papers littering the surface fall to the floor along with a few other items cluttering it. The two of you are kissing hard, both of you trying to take control as your tongues eagerly explore each others mouths. More things fall to the round as you quickly pull up her dress and her hands grab at your sweatshirt. You slide your hands to her hips and pull her to the edge of the desk, pressing your leg between hers and you grind into her. A moan rings out into the night air and she manages to pull your sweatshirt off.
Her hands go straight for your pajama bottoms and you grab her wrists. Alcina is strong, you'd never know how strong she was just by looking at her but looks are certainly deceiving. Luckily your work as groundskeeper has increased your strength as well so it's an even match. Somehow you manage to pin her arms behind her back and she grunts in protest but never breaks the kiss.
Holding her wrists behind her back with one hand, your free hand dives between her legs. The pads of your fingers immediately find her clit over her underwear and you waste no time rubbing tight, quick circles around it. Alcina throws her head back and cries out with a growl. She pulls against your hand restraining her wrists and tries to break free.
As she wiggles in your grip she slides off the desk landing on her feet. Just as she manages to break out of your hold you manage to keep one of her wrists pinned and your other hand grabs the other. She fights for control and you're able to turn her around and bend her over her desk. You pin her wrists behind her back again and lean over her.
"Stay down." You growl into her ear.
A whimper escapes from her lips and you nibble she shell of her ear. When you pull back she tries to fight against you and you give her a hard smack on the ass. She cries out in pleasure and you massage her reddening skin. You give her one more smack when she pulls against your grip on her hands and she cries out again.
Her legs begin shaking with need and she starts to whimper. She stops fighting back and you grab the hair on the back of her head and lean over her again.
"Good girl. Don't make me keep punishing you."
Alcina groans and you sit back up after placing a kiss on her neck. Holding her wrists with one hand, you use the other to pull her wet thong down her long legs. You tap at her legs so she steps out of them and you feel how drenched they are in your hands.
"So wet for me already baby? I barely even touched you." You caress her slit and graze over her clit, causing her to whine. "You wouldn't be so desperate for me if you worked so much, you know?" You tease.
You can tell you hit a nerve with that one because she growls and fights against your grip once more. With another smack to her ass she settles down.
"I'm just going to have to tie your wrists together, aren't I?" You ask.
Before she can respond you start to tie her wrists together with her wet, lacy thong.
"Not perfect, but it'll have to do." You say after you finish. "You know, I was hoping to ravish you in our bedroom, but you're so stubborn I guess I'm just going to have to do it here."
Alcina opens her mouth to quip back but the only thing that leaves her lips is a whine as your fingers explore her dripping slit.
"Fuck you're so wet." You say, coating your fingers in her arousal.
You begin to circle her clit and she starts to moan.
"You like that baby? You like when I play with your clit like that?"
"Uh-huh." She wines.
"Use your words." You say, slowing your ministrations.
Alcina whines in protest and cries out.
"Yes! I love it. I love when you play with my clit."
"Good girl."
After circling over her clit a few times you easily slide two fingers deep into Alcina's soaked pussy. Her moans echo through her study and her eyes roll into the back of her head.
You push your fingers deep inside her dripping cunt until you bottom her out and pull them away. After repeating that a few times you start to curl them into her walls and Alcina's cries grow louder.
"Yes, let me hear you my love." You say as you pick up the pace.
"Oh fuck!" She moans.
"You like when I overpower you? When I treat you like my little fucktoy?"
"Mhm."
You smack her ass again and she yelps.
"Use your words." You say as you thrust back into her.
"Yes! Fuck. I love it baby."
As you fuck her with your fingers her legs begin to shake and her walls start to clench down around you. You bring her right to the edge and pull your fingers out of her, leaving her pussy to clench around nothing. Alcina cries out in protest.
"What's the matter, love? You didn't think you could break your promise and not go unpunished, did you?"
"Fuck you." She spits.
Alcina hates being edged, it's not that it makes her uncomfortable, she just doesn't like being teased. You've only ever done it one other time and you ended up paying for it by being completely tied down to her bed and edged for hours at her mercy until she made you cum so hard you blacked out for a minute. She told you she was going to "fuck the brat right out of you" and she sure as hell did that night. But you know if you were the one to break a promise like this you'd be punished so it's only fair that she receives a punishment as well.
"Ah, being bratty now, are we?" You say as you tease her clit. "A very attractive woman once told me that the best way to deal with a brat is to fuck it right out of them. I wonder how well that works."
"Don't you dar- fuck!" Her words are cut off with a cry when you shove your fingers back into her.
The only other sounds that came from her lips were cries and moans of pleasure as you fucked her relentlessly. Bringing her to the edge of release before taking it away over and over again. Each time you were met with a cry of protest. Her whimpers were the sweetest sounds you've ever heard. Especially when they were accompanied by the wet noises her pussy made when you thrusted in and out of her.
Her arousal was dripping down your wrist and down her trembling legs. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her flushed face and chest were laying flat against the cool mahogany of her desk. You brought her to the edge and back down again when you heard the tiniest beg slip from her lips.
"What was that?" You ask but she only whimpers in response. "Was that a beg I heard?"
Alcina doesn't respond so you bring her to the edge again and just as she's about to tip over, just when she thinks you'll finally let her cum, you pull your fingers out.
"Fuck! Please!"
"Ah, there it is. Please what? Tell me what you want baby." You say, pushing back into her.
"Please fuck me, make me cum. Please!" Tears begin to form in the corners of her eyes as she desperately whimpers. You take a second to look at the goddess laying beneath you and your mouth waters.
"Fuck, look at you. So wet, begging for me to fuck you senseless, at my mercy."
"Please." She whimpers.
You've never been able to reduce Alcina to such a begging, wet mess before but you absolutely love it. And by the sound of the moan she releases and the way her walls grip your fingers when you slide them back in, you can tell she loves it too.
"More, please, fuck me. I need more." She moans.
Pumping your fingers in and out of her, you bring her to the edge once more. Just before she's about to explode on your hand you pull out entirely again and she cries out. Before she can say anything you shove three fingers into her and her body jerks as she screams in pleasure. After giving her a few seconds to stretch around your fingers you begin to finger fuck her harder than you think you ever have before.
"You've been such a good girl for me. Even though you broke your promise, I think you've more than made up for it. Let me take care of you baby." You whisper to her as you drive her into oblivion.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Yes, fuck me, make me cum! Please baby harder!" She cries.
You slam your fingers deep into her and drive short, hard thrusts into her g spot as you curl your fingers in a rhythm. Her legs start to shake and you feel her walls clench down around you hard before you feel them relax. Alcina screams out into the night and her body trembles as her orgasm hits her like a freight train. You keep up your pace through her orgasm and as soon as she's done a second one builds and hits her. As you guide her down she trembles beneath you. You untie her wrists with one hand and once you feel the pulsing of her walls slow down, you pull your fingers out.
Laying in front of you, your wife is a blissed out, trembling mess. Your hand and her legs are glistening with her cum, she whimpers every time an aftershock runs up her spine and her legs can barely hold her up.
Alcina looks up at you as she tries to catch her breath and you help her stand. Her legs are unsteady so you guide her to the chair and sit her down. Kneeling in front of her, you pull her hips to the edge and spread her legs. She goes to protest and you sit up and kiss her.
"Shh, let me clean you up. I'll be gentle, I promise. Okay?"
She nods her head and you kiss her once more before positioning yourself between her legs. Looking up, you see her half-hooded, lust-filled eyes staring down at you and you lick up her soaked pussy as you stare into them. Her eyes roll back and she tosses her head back against the chair.
As you clean up her mess you can feel her pussy pulsating against your tongue. Her clit is swollen and you circle the soft flesh with your tongue, making Alcina whine. Even though you weren't trying to make her cum again, you can feel her orgasm build with each lick and suck of her pussy. You let it slowly build, giving her clit a gentle suck and pull every so often, before her hand is gripping the back of your head. Slipping your tongue between her folds, you keep eating her out until she cums into your mouth with a soft cry.
You make sure you clean up every drop before slowing your movements and pulling away from her. Looking up, you see Alcina resting her head against the back of the chair with her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling as basks in the afterglow of being fucked senseless. After you wipe your mouth, you sit up and cup her face and her eyes meet yours.
Alcina leans down and captures your lips in a deep kiss. When your lips part she rests her head against yours and closes her eyes. You can tell she's rightfully exhausted. From both over-working herself to being fucked so hard. Pulling her into you, you have her wrap her legs around your waist and her arms around your neck and you pick her up. After you adjust your grip on her, you're surprised when she nuzzles her head into your neck instead of protesting. She's never let you do this before without putting up a fight so she must be either exhausted or in desperate need of being taken care of, or both.
You carry Alcina into your shared bedroom and sit her down on the counter in the bathroom. After wetting a washcloth and pouring some soap on it, you clean between her legs as well as your face and hands. Wrapping herself around you again, you carry her into the bedroom and lay her on the bed. She slips out of her dress after you unzip it and after she removes her bra you help her to pull a nightgown over her head. Pulling the covers back, she curls up in bed and you follow suit. Covering the both of you with the duvet, you lean over to shut off the light.
Alcina curls into you, burying her face in your neck and wrapping her arms around you.
"Thank you." She says as she places chaste kisses on your neck.
"Of course my love, I hope I was able to help you relax."
"You did draga mea, more than I can explain. Thank you. I love you."
"I love you too baby."
After a soft kiss goodnight, the two of you drift off into a peaceful, restful sleep.
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sindar-princeling · 2 months
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LOTR Newsletter update - this time final
Hi everyone!
Thank you very much for your patience as I figured out how to organise the rest of the newsletter this year. There will have to be changes, but I tried to make my solution as convenient for all of us as I could.
Long story short: we are still reading - with changes that I hope will be okay with you.
Long story long:
It seemed that TinyLetter was genuinely the last of its kind; after many hours of searching I have to say the platforms I found were either expensive, or the free plans were too small for the size of the newsletter, or they had many social features which made it impossible to keep the newsletter under the radar (believe me, I tried, and I failed).
To keep the newsletter going and keep it under the radar, I had to come to terms with the fact that without TinyLetter, it can't take the form of e-mails - so here's what I came up with.
I have set up a MEGA folder that's available to everyone who has this link. Inside it, there is the whole newsletter - September 15th to May 26th - as an .odt file, as a .pdf file, and most importantly as an .epub file, because I assume most of you are reading on your phones (if you don't already have an .epub reader, I use FBReader, and everything worked fine on my phone). At the beginning you'll find the whole table of contents with hyperlinks, so the navigation inside the document should be easy! Grab yourself a copy and keep reading from tomorrow on!
I am aware that not all of you will want to continue reading this way - and I'm sorry I couldn't continue the newsletter in the old way. I had tons of fun sending you all the e-mails, but TinyLetter closing forced me to try to find a different platform, and when I couldn't do that - a different way to continue. Ensuring everyone who wants to keep reading has means to do that was the priority here - I didn't want there to be any breaks. And with everyone having their own copy of the whole thing on their phone or computer I hope it isn't much less convenient than e-mails.
I hope you continue reading and talking about LOTR in the tag! I'm really going to miss sending e-mails, but I'm still here coordinating everything and talking about current entries and available if you want to contact me about anything.
BIG thank you to everyone who sent their support and advice over the past few days, it has been quite a frantic almost-week, and being able to talk and consult you here and on Discord helped a lot.
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Note
Sorry if I’m a bother, if that’s the case feel free to skip over this one.
I freaking loved it! I’m now inspired to draw Sam with the overlords now! If it’s not too much trouble could I ask for Zestial, Charlie and the rest of the hotel’s reactions to Sam?
(Ooo!😳 what if for Angel’s it’s Valentino who tries to hurt him?! That could get messy!)
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A/n: Nah dude you're fine! Though I don't write for Zestial (not that that's your fault I keep forgetting to put that in the rules.)
Warnings (?): nothing major happens but Val's here so warning for abuse. Also, Alastor is hurt in Husk's part and Val is hurt in Angel's part, it's nothing graphic but if you don't want to read about that skip those parts.
!!!not proofread!!!
Charlie: Just as cuddly as you! Gladly accepts any candy from you. She ends up getting candy from the hotel for you. Let's you tag along if it's safe (or at least what she assumes you can handle.) Despite being the princess of Hell it's a known fact that she's a pushover and usually refuses to use her powers. So it's not that much of a surprise when someone attacks her. What is a surprise is how you react. I'm going to be honest, she is at least a little scared of you now. Though she's pretty sure you'd only attack people when they hurt your friends. We’re about 80% sure they're harmless.
Vaggie: She ain't too keen on cuddles, but isn't totally against it. She's not great with kids when they're just chilling so she doesn't know what to do. Also, she isn't one for sweets but appreciates the gesture. You remind her of Charlie in a weird way (but like platonic obviously.) Vaggie got some crayons for today's bonding activity when some random sinner attacked Vaggie. Before Vaggie could defend herself the sinner was ripped off of her. She just stared dumbfounded as you took care of the sinner. Well, there goes her thinking you're like Charlie. I mean sure you seemed sweet when somebody attacked a person you liked. You became terrifying and did anything to defend them- wait never mind you're more like Charlie now.
Angel Dust: Kinda creeped out by you before you do anything tbh. You follow him around nearly everywhere and keep offering him candy, despite barely knowing each other. But he understands you're a kid and may have a hard time showing you care, but he sets a ground rule: NEVER follow him to work. It's not a place for kids to be, and you followed that! Valentino just couldn't keep his hands off Angel even out of the studio. You too were just at a park, it was night so no one was really around. Until Valentino spotted Angel, you didn't hear any of the words that were said between them. But you did see Valentino hit Angel and that was the end of that. Seeing you almost kill Valentino was horrifying but also very cathartic. After the initial shock wears off you get about 20 bags of candy and however much cuddle time you want.
Husk: He's pretty blunt about finding you off-putting. But you don't seem to care and still follow him around like a lost puppy. The fact that him insulting you didn't sour your opinion of him even a little bit concerns him. So he starts to look after you. Not because he cares about you! Just because it'd be messed up to let a kid get manipulated no matter who they are. He totally cares about you. He gives chocolate milk or any sweet drink you like at the bar. One day Husk decided to stand up to Alastor which seemed to be a huge mistake on Husk's part. It would have been if it wasn't for you walking in on the scene. The threats were made good on. Just towards Alastor instead of him doing them. Husk is a little shaken up but hey he's probably free now. Gets you any candy you want and shows you a shit ton of card tricks.
Niffty: Tbh I don't have much to say about her. She finds you interesting but doesn't give you much thought. Though eventually when you protect her she returns your affection. Because you are scary and small which are both things she is.
Sir Pentious: (this is while he's in hell btw) Not great with kids. Like I don't think the egg bois are kids but even if they are the only experience he has with kids is his minions. But he does try! He does care for kids. He'll get you candy and cuddle if you want. He used to try to take over territories a lot. He always failed but he still made a lot of enemies that way. So when one of them finds him and tries to hurt him while you're around? I mean if he still wants that territory he can definitely take it now. To be honest I think he'd find you cool, even if you're more than a little scary.
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brokebonewritings · 2 months
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Be Mine, Forever?
Matt Murdock x Reader
Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special
Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye
Word Count: 4.4K
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The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day. 
You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.
As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.
Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"
"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"
Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."
"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison. 
She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."
"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.
"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."
You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.
"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.
"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."
You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."
"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."
"Oh shit, really?" 
You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.
"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"
She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."
"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."
"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.
You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."
"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"
You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?
It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.
Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.
"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"
There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."
You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"
Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"
"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"
"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."
You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."
"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.
"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.
"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"
The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."
"That sounds lovely, very romantic."
As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you. 
"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"
"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."
As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.
Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.
You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit. 
"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."
"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."
"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."
"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."
"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.
You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.
"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.
"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."
"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states. 
"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."
They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.
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You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though. 
Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.
Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.
As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.
With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.
You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.
The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.
Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.
The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.
Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.
"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.
"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."
"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.
"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.
You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.
"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.
The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.
Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.
"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."
The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.
Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.
Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.
"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.
As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."
"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.
As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.
"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.
Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.
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On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.
"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.
Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.
His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.
With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.
As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.
"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."
You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."
"Our bed?" 
"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.
He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.
Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.
"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.
You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.
He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.
His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync. 
"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.
"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.
With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.
You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.
"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"
You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"
"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."
"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.
His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."
With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.
"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.
He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.
Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.
Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.
Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.
His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.
"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."
He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."
He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.
Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.
"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.
He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.
A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"
You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table. 
"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."
Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.
He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.
"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."
He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.
He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.
"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.
He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good. 
"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."
That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.
He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.
He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."
He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.
You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. 
"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.
"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.
He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.
"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.
Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.
You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.
He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.
Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.
You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.
"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle. 
"Sorry, too much?"
"Not at all."
"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.
As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.
Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you." 
You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.
"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"
"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."
"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."
"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."
This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."
A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."
As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.
"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.
He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."
"Though I do have one complaint."
"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.
"You never asked me to be your valentine."
Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
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runningfrom2am · 2 months
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cold nights // part twenty-six
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summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 7.3k (WOAH)
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: sorry i made you guys wait so long for this omg!! i have been booked and busy this week but we are so back :)
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
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It's your first day of university, and you don't know if you're more excited or terrified.
It was the beginning of the rest of your life, which is thrilling considering just two months ago you thought you had days left to live. At the same time, though, you knew no one here besides Coryo and Sej, and you didn't share a single class with either of them.
But, staying positive was a must. It would only be a few hours away from them, and you had planned to meet up for lunch with Coryo between your classes, since he had found some for you that started and ended at the same time as his. While you drape your scarf over your shoulders and tuck both ends around the belt at your waist, you smile to yourself. You take a last look in the mirror, to double-confirm that you like the look of the scarf worn that way over your white dress and when you're satisfied you grab your bag and leave your room. Of course, Tybalt is right on your heels.
Walking down the hall, you can hear their grandmother singing the national anthem in the other room, as she always does. You've never loved the anthem or what it stood for, but starting your morning hearing singing is nice nonetheless. Even if the woman who started her mornings with song had decided just to completely pretend you didn't exist, ignoring you at every turn. "Good morning!" You smile as you enter the dining room, Tigris and Coryo already sitting to eat.
"Morning." They both smile at you at the same time as you drop your bag down, sitting next to Coryo. "Are you excited?" Tigris asks as you reach for some apple slices. There are more fancy pastries spread out on the tray as well, but you'd much rather stick to fruit in the morning.
"I am." You grin, biting the slice in half. "A little nervous, though. I must admit."
"You don't need to be nervous." Coryo tells you, and his smile does relax you. But you know he doesn't understand. "I'll walk you to your classes, and I'll see you during our break. It'll be easy and you'll adjust very quickly."
"Aren't you nervous?" You ask, picking up your cup of tea and taking a sip. "It's your first day too."
"Not really." He shrugs, reaching up to mess with his hair. It had only been a few weeks since he cut it, but it was growing back rather quickly. "More excited."
"Oh, well, I'm excited for you too." You hum, taking another bite of your apple and smiling as he pats your leg under the table.
Pulling up to the campus after Coryo insisted that their driver take the two of you, you notice immediately that there were tons more people. Most were people around your age, which you expected. You wonder how many of them are Coryo's other friends, it would be nice to make more friends here. Just like the games. You find yourself thinking. "Safety in numbers", is what Coryo had told you. You needed allies here.
"There's a lot of people." You comment as the car comes to a stop, and Coryo gently squeezes you with the arm he has over your shoulder in the backseat, still shielded by the tinted windows.
"Yes, just stay close to me." He tells you, kissing your cheek. You nod and push the door open, thanking the driver quickly as you climb out with Coryo on your heels.
It's obvious to him almost immediately that you don't fit in. While there isn't a uniform like there was in the academy, he was still wearing dress pants and a button-up shirt- which seemed to be on par with the level of dress all the other students were donning. Mentally, he curses himself for not thinking of that. It didn't even cross his mind- all that did was that you looked beautiful. More done up than he'd ever seen you, and you don't look insecure about it, at least not immediately. Outside of what he can discern of just average nervousness as you seem to shrink in on yourself while you look out over as much of the campus as you can see.
"So, your class starts in twenty-five minutes. Usually, it's a good idea to get there early, that's what I've heard anyway." He tells you as he starts walking down the path toward the doors, and you follow quickly after him.
"How long does it take to get there?" You ask as you catch up, holding onto your bag over your shoulder.
"You tell me." He smirks, jutting out his elbow to gently nudge you. "I have you the tour, where are we going?"
"Oh." You laugh, looking around. "It looks a lot different now. Probably... ten minutes to get to the arts building?"
"About that, yeah." He nods. "In no time you won't need me anymore."
As you approach the entrance to the main building, it doesn't go unnoticed by him that you're being stared at. No doubt every other student here recognizes you, it would be jarring to see a tribute walking among them at school. Let alone be in a class with them. He wonders if they'd feel unsafe with you- he knows he would have without knowing you.
Not necessarily unsafe, considering even watching the games anyone could tell you wouldn't hurt a fly, but... uneasy, is a more accurate descriptor. It even begins to pool in his own stomach, growing more as you link your arm with his. They weren't just staring at you. They were staring at him, too.
"I'll always need you, I'm sure." You giggle, squeezing his arm.
He can practically hear all of their whispers now.
'Is that Coriolanus Snow? That District girl is all over him.'
'She's probably going to give him rabies or some other gross District plague. I won't be surprised if he starts a Monkey Pox outbreak.'
'I heard him and Sejanus Plinth went to District Twelve just for her. They probably came back half animal- no wonder he sees nothing wrong with this.'
Suddenly, he does. Your hold on him, while friendly, feels so sickeningly isolating. He pulls his arm from yours with the excuse of rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while he speaks to you. "Well, we may not always have aligning classes."
"That's true, I suppose." You agree. "An awful shame though, I'll miss being able to have lunch together."
He just hums in agreement, picking up his pace as you move through the halls and out the back exit to be able to access the art building.
"This is you." Coryo says as he stops outside the door to a lecture hall, looking inside briefly before turning his attention to you. There were a few students already inside, reading or organizing their notebooks.
"Oh, thank you." You smile at him. He didn't have much to say on the walk to your class, but you sum that up to him being in a hurry to get to his own. The art building was certainly out of his way, if you remember where all his classes were supposed to be.
"You're welcome." He says, making an effort to match your smile. He could only really focus on the stares you were getting from people walking past, making wide circles around you. You don't seem to notice as you look up at him. "I'll come back to get you after class, so just wait for me, okay?"
"I'll wait right here." You nod, wrapping your arms around him and leaning your head against his chest. "I'll miss you, though."
You feel him tense up under you, and he awkwardly pats your back. You don't clue in until you hear gasps and whispering. You quickly take a step back, cheeks red.
Coryo chuckles nervously. "It's alright, uh..." He leans down to whisper to you. "They're just strict about that kind of stuff here. Don't worry about it."
"Oh, I'm sorry..." You reply, looking around and smiling apologetically at the few people still staring as they walk past.
"I should have told you, that's my fault." He admits, standing up straight before leaning down to talk to you again. "Good luck in your class. I love you, and I'll see you for lunch." He whispers and is satisfied when that brings your normal smile back.
"I love you too." You whisper back, and he grins, giving you a quick nod. "See you later."
You wave as he walks away, and you take a deep breath before walking into the lecture hall.
Now, you're presented with your second big problem of the day. Figuring out where to sit.
You scan the room quickly, deciding the easiest would be the front or second row. There were a few students already sitting down there, and one girl who was sitting alone. She had blonde hair, and red lipstick that you think would match Coryo's coat that he sometimes wears quite nicely. She looked nice.
You smile as you make your way over to the front row, sliding into the seat next to her. "Hi! My name is Y/N, what's-" You whisper, wanting to stay quiet in the already silent room and before you even finish your question she's shoving things in her bag and getting up. "Oh." You frown, looking around as she quickly moves to a different seat. The shuffle caused everyone who wasn't already looking to stare at you, so you just quickly turned to face the front.
You didn't mean to scare her off, you just thought she might want a friend if she was sitting alone, and you definitely wanted one. She didn't even look at you for more than a second.
You quietly pull the notebook Coryo had given you out of your bag, placing it on the table in front of you and looking up at the clock. There were still fifteen or so minutes until your class would start, so surely by then, someone would sit next to you.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen. By the time the man you assumed was your professor entered, every other seat was taken besides the ones next to you. And behind you. There was this glaringly uncomfortable circle of emptiness surrounding you right at the front of the room. It was mildly embarrassing, but at least you didn't have to see everyone staring at you since almost everyone was behind you. But you still had the afternoon class, and the rest of the year to let people warm up to you. It would be okay.
"Okay, I hope everyone is here." Your gaze follows your professor as he shuts and locks the door. "If you're late, that's too bad. I expect everyone to be on time. This door will be locked at nine on the dot. For anyone who doesn't know me, my name is Dr. Nero."
You sit up straighter in your seat. He looks young, probably only ten or so years your senior with well-trimmed but present facial hair and a semi-casual suit. He must be relatively new to the position, and clearly, he took it very seriously.
"Alright, the department wants us to do icebreakers, so we'll get it over quickly. When I call your name on the attendance, tell us something about yourself and what your career goal is."
Shoot. You definitely didn't have any solid plans yet.
As he goes through the list, you wrack your brain for an answer. What did you want to do? Nothing specific. Maybe you'd write a book, maybe open a daycare back home where parents could leave their young ones with you by donation while they went to work. Maybe you'd be back at the library, but you really wanted to do something good with your education. You make a mental note to ask Coryo during lunch what kind of career you can have with a literature degree.
You look around, trying to remember as many names as you can as the other students answer.
"Teacher", "Artist", "Museum Curator", "Gamemaker".
Your eyes are still locked on the student who said that, a boy with dark hair and brown eyes. His name was Cancor Crane, if you remember what the professor had just called out correctly, and he was staring back at you. He was staring at you with such a vile expression that it looked like he wanted to gut you. A chill goes down your spine.
Then your name is called. You turn quickly, smiling nervously. "Hi..." You say, clearing your throat of the dryness that overtook it. "So, my name is Y/N... something about myself is that I have a cat, his name is Tybalt. Um, because my favourite book is Romeo and Juliet." You look around, then quickly back to your desk. "And I am not sure about my career, in all honesty. Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door." You shrug, smiling hopefully at him.
"Interesting." Your professor says, tilting his head at you and leaning back against his desk. "I expected your fact to be that you're a Victor."
"I- well, yes. I am." You reply nervously, twisting your pencil in between your fingers.
He hums. "Congratulations."
Congratulations on being the only one to walk away with your life.
"Thank you." You settle on, voice hardly more than a whisper.
"I've never taught a Victor before. This should be an interesting class for all of us."
You took as many notes as you could through the syllabus overview and first lecture. You were pretty pleased with yourself, everything looked organized and you felt prepared for the rest of the course- besides the textbooks that you needed to pick up. Another thing to ask Coryo about.
You don't see him at the door yet, after all, he had to walk all the way back from his class to yours and if he was let out at the same time he should be here in about ten minutes.
"Miss Y/L/N, do you mind staying for a moment?" Dr. Nero asks as the lecture hall steadily clears out. "I'd like to chat with you."
You quickly gather your things, making your way over to his desk at the front centre of the large room.
"Dr. Nero." You smile, bag tucked under your arm. "I really enjoyed today's class. I'm looking forward to the rest of the semester."
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. "Thank you."
He doesn't say anything else, and you're left wondering what he wanted you to stay for. "I just need to get my textbooks, but I have the list that you gave us so I'll see if I can grab them this afternoon. I'll have them for Wednesday." You say, just wanting to fill the silence.
"Good." He nods, leaning back against his desk and tucking his hands into his pockets. "I watched your games. When they told me that you enrolled in my class, I was immediately intrigued."
"Oh." What are you supposed to say to that? He watched you at your literal worst, that doesn't make you feel very comfortable at all.
"In a good way, I assure you." He says, sensing your nerves. "I feel as though you know more about English literature than anyone in this city. Maybe even more than me."
"I wouldn't say that..." You chuckle nervously. "I just like reading."
"Yes. With an unprecedented level of comprehension for a District-born child."
You want to scowl and argue with him about how the opinions of the Capitol citizens are based on nothing but their own superiority complex fuelled by their win in one war that cost the lives of many, but instead, you just smile and nod. "Thank you, Sir."
"Although, tributes are not given much of a chance to prove that they are more than animals when they are treated as such from the moment they arrive until the moment they die, wouldn't you agree?"
You tilt your head at him. His motivations and opinions are suddenly unclear and confusing to you. "Yes... I-I would."
"Well, I hope to learn more about your experience while we get to know each other." He tells you. "Thank you for coming."
"Yes, thank you." You say quietly, looking toward the door. "I'll see you on Wednesday."
"Yes, good luck in the rest of your classes." He nods to you, and you take that as your dismissal and head to the door. You would just have to wait for Coryo in the hall.
You wouldn't have to wait long, considering he was already there, right where he had left you earlier.
"Hi!" You smile, waving at him but being mindful of keeping your distance.
"Hello." He grins, already starting down the hall as you join his side.
"How was your class?" You ask excitedly.
"Good." He shrugs. "What about yours? That's what I'm more concerned about."
"It was good!" You smile. "I mean, I tried to talk to people but everyone was pretty quiet. And the Professor was nice. I think. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I'm a 'Victor'." You accentuate your point with finger quotations, bouncing between looking up at him beside you and ahead of you to make sure you don't walk into anyone. They seem to be keeping their distance, though.
"Of course he is." Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. "But that's what we want. He may favour you, so go along with it."
"Oh, okay."
Tigris was nice enough to pack you both lunch for the day, yours consisting mainly of fruit. Something you have noticed over the last couple of weeks you've been here is that some of the food scares you- which is something you never thought of. If you can't somewhat accurately identify what it is just by looking at it, you're tempted to steer clear. Coryo insists you'll "get used to it", something he tells you daily about a wide variety of things, but Tigris doesn't mind packing you fruit for lunch or meals you don't help prepare yourself, which you appreciate.
Even for a September day, the sun is beaming down on the courtyard so you decided to eat outside. After all, Coryo says the weather won't be this nice all winter. You rarely got snow in Twelve, so you were excited for the holidays. Secretly, you hoped you could go home for Christmas.
"It's a beautiful day today." You comment, taking a bite of the fresh strawberry you pulled from your lunch container. The strawberries here were something that shocked you as well- they were bigger than the homegrown ones back home. Not nearly as sweet, though.
"It is." Coryo nods, leaning back on his palms in the grass. "Do you like it here so far?" He asks, squinting from the sun as he looks over at you.
"I mean, I've only had one class as you know, but so far it's great." You grin. "I'm excited to actually dive into the readings and such."
"I mean, like, in general." He chuckles. "Also, I have never heard anyone ever say they were excited about homework."
"A precious, mouldering pleasure it is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege I think." You shrug, smiling at him as you place the rest of the strawberry on your tongue.
Coryo scrunches up his nose in disgust while you chew. "You eat the leaves?"
Quickly, you're covering your mouth with your hand to speak. "You don't?" You ask, voice slightly muffled with the slightly sour fruit on your tongue.
"No!" He laughs, shaking his head.
You swallow what remains of the strawberry in your mouth, preparing to defend yourself when you hear someone call his name. You both turn, and your eyes land on a girl with long, dark hair as she walks toward you. With the shoes she's wearing, she only slightly struggles on the grass.
"Clemmie." He smiles, quickly standing up. You follow suit, brushing the stray blades of grass off of your legs and dress while he gives her a hug. A hug? That must be allowed outdoors. "I didn't expect to see you today."
"Yeah, well, they let me out of my cage for the occasion." She replies sarcastically. She must be hot, wearing a white turtle neck in this heat. Then she looks at you, lifting up her dark sunglasses and resting them in her hair.
She has the eyes of a snake.
You're in shock for a moment, but you quickly recover. "Hello, my name is Y/N. Are you a friend of Coryo's?" You ask, extending your hand to shake. You were just happy to possibly be making friends.
She doesn't take it, something you're used to by now. "Yes, we've known each other our whole lives." She answers, looking down at your hand as you slowly lower it back to your side.
"Y/N, this is Clemensia Dovecote." Coryo says, deciding to introduce you properly, since his classmate didn't want to oblige. "She was a mentor as well."
"Oh, congratulations." You grin, biting back the sickness you felt suddenly bubbling in your stomach. "From what I have heard, even being selected for the opportunity is a large accomplishment. You must be proud."
"Yeah, well, I'd certainly be happier if my tribute won." She shrugs.
"Clemmie-" Coryo hisses at her, and she looks momentarily horrified at her own statement.
You look down, nodding slightly with a nervous smile. "It's okay." You insist, laughing slightly and pretending to readjust your scarf and tighten it around the belt.
"I didn't... Not like that. I'm sorry." She apologizes quickly after Coryo had jumped to your defense.
"No, it's alright. I understand." You tell her again, attempting a reassuring smile. "Would... would you like to eat lunch with us?"
"I have to get going, actually." Clemensia replies, looking between the two of you. "I was just on my way to my next class and thought I'd stop to say hi. It was nice to meet you, Y/N."
"You too." You grin, and she nods at you before walking away.
Your eyes stay trained on her as she crosses the courtyard, and Coryo is once again close enough to speak to you quietly so no one else would hear. "I'm so sorry, she didn't mean it like that."
"No, I know." You insist again, already sitting back down. "It's okay." You smile up at him, patting the patch of grass next to you so he would join you.
"She was supposed to be Reaper's mentor." He tells you as he rejoins you on the ground. "But... something happened before the games. She couldn't participate."
"Oh."
He moves closer. "Do you remember that day we went to tour the arena?" He asks and you nod. "And I was late, and you asked me what was wrong, and I told you nothing?"
You do remember that, and you never got answers, but you remember being worried it was your fault. You almost kissed him the night before, and you had made things weird when he just came to do something nice for you; bringing you a book and some birthday cake. You felt horrible. "Yes, I thought I had done something."
"You? No." He quickly shakes his head. "We had to write a proposal for Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, about things that could be done to "improve" the games. Like the bets, donations, sending food, and when we were speaking with her Clemmie got bit by one of the snakes."
You gasp, covering your mouth. He looks around, making sure no one is paying attention. Yes, people were staring, but no one would get close enough to be able to overhear.
"I thought she was dead, but they sent me straight to the arena to meet you." He explains. "And like she said, we've been friends forever so I was... quite upset."
"That's horrible." You frown, resisting the urge to reach for his hand as it sits on his lap next to you.
"Yeah." He agrees quietly. "But I saw her in the hospital after the bombing, she was alive but... different. Crazy."
"Her eyes?" You ask and he nods.
"And she was hallucinating, they wouldn't let anyone see her except me because I was there. She was angry with me because I didn't visit her enough."
"Survivors guilt." You smile sympathetically. It was a feeling you knew all too well.
"That's why she's wearing that shirt." He whispers, nodding to her just as she enters the building ahead of you. "She's got scales."
You cringe at the mere idea of it.
"I know." He laughs slightly. He doesn't look away from his hands in his lap, and while you can see he's smiling and laughing, it's doing little to convince you that he isn't upset. "It was kind of my fault, though."
There it is.
"No, most certainly not." You frown. You just want to hold his hand, surely you won't be caught if you do. You were outside, just for a moment isn't likely to get you in trouble. Especially if he was just hugging Clemensia. "Why do you say that?" You ask, settling instead for resting a hand on his arm.
"I... It's difficult to explain." He tells you, and you say nothing, willing him to continue. "So, our proposal was in the tank. Dr. Gaul told us if the snakes knew your scent, they wouldn't bite. But I wrote the paper, not her, and she made Clemmie reach into their tank and pull it out."
"That's not your fault." You tell him, gently squeezing his forearm.
"I should have stopped her. She would have hated me for telling them she didn't help write it, but none of that would have happened."
"Well, she's okay, isn't she?" You smile hopefully.
"Yes, but she just as easily could have died." He insists. "The only thing that makes me feel slightly better about it is that in a way, she saved you."
You cock your head at him, mouth falling open in astonishment. "I... what?"
He looks up from his lap to check your surroundings again.
"I put the letter you wrote to me into the tank." He whispers, and you have to lean in to hear it. "Because I knew if they knew your scent they wouldn't hurt you."
"You... never told me that." You state the obvious, retreating your hand back into your own lap. Part of you wishes he hadn't done that. They didn't quite catch you getting up into the rafters, his warning had been enough, but you should have walked to your death the following morning when you climbed down and found the note in the first place.
"I just... I don't know, I thought it would be worth more if it stayed a secret. I didn't want you to feel... indebted to me, or something." He admits. "But I'm still trying that thing where I tell you everything I'm thinking. Especially about this stuff."
You nod, putting your focus on picking pieces of grass at your side. "Thank you."
"Please don't thank me." He frowns. "I told you. I had to. I knew I loved you even then, Y/N/N."
You give your head a quick shake, already sensing the spiral it was about to fall down. "Let's not speak about this here." You mumble. "Please."
Immediately, Coryo understands. "Of course." He watches you run your fingers through the grass slowly, and realizes quickly that you are counting them. Now was not the time or place for another attack, and he felt foolish for even bringing the topic of the games up. "What books do you need?" He asks, hoping to get you in better spirits. "Anything that looks good? You said you were excited for the readings."
Your lunch doesn't feel like it lasts long enough, even though you had an hour and a half between your classes. Once you got to talking about your books, the time seemed to fly by and Coryo agreed to take you to the bookstore on campus the following afternoon so you could get all your books at once. He had a few to get as well.
He walked you to your next class, a few floors up in the same building and this time you were mindful to not hug him goodbye. He told you he loved you, very quietly, and you said you loved him too before entering the room. Another lecture hall, slightly smaller than the last one.
You mentally prepare yourself to play this game again. Where to sit, and preferably, finding someone willing to sit next to you. Looking around, you see a couple of girls in the middle of the room chatting away. They looked nice enough.
Preparing your smile as you walk up, you slide into the seat next to them. "Hi there, my name is Y/N." You grin, keeping your voice low. You really didn't want to scare them off. "Can I sit here?"
They look at each other with an expression unreadable to you, before one of them nods. "Yeah, we can't see why not."
"Oh, thank you!" You say excitedly, pulling your bag up onto the desk to grab your other notebook out of it.
"You're the Victor." The other girl comments, and you realize they're both staring at you still.
You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, nodding. "Mhm."
"So... why are you here?" The girl closest to you with a brunette ponytail asks.
"Oh, well, Coriolanus, he was my mentor, he came to visit me back home and convinced me to come study here." You explain. "I want to have a career. Help my family."
"Oh, we know him." She says, and they look at each other again, chests shaking with laughter they're attempting to conceal.
"You do?" You smile. You knew starting with his friends was a good idea, this is just a happy coincidence that you had decided to sit next to two of them already.
"Yeah, we went to the academy with him." The girl's friend explains. You notice then that they have a very similar hair colour, but hers is cut short and curled just above her shoulders. "He always had such a stick up his ass. Took everything way too seriously."
"That's what my brother said, too." You giggle. You weren't sure if they were being genuinely mean or not, but you decided to air on the side of caution. You wanted friends. "But he is truly lovely. Do you know him well?"
"You could say that." One of them answers vaguely and you just smile, tucking your bag back under the table. "Your bag is... interesting. Where did you get it?"
"Oh!" You say excitedly, lifting it back onto the table. "My Ma made it for me. Isn't it pretty?"
They laugh, and your smile fades. You thought it was very nice, made from pieces of scrapped linens that she had used in other projects, stitched together into a pattern that made up your shoulder bag. It was perfect for carrying your notebooks and pencils, you had brought it to school back home all your life.
"It's... something else." The girl with the short hair nods.
"Does your Ma hate you? That's so sad." The other girl pouts, resting her chin on her hand.
You quickly hide the bag away again at your feet. "No, of course she doesn't." You weren't sure what to say. Why were they being mean? They had been nice to you a moment ago.
"Did she make your dress, too?"
You just nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
"Wow, yeah, I could tell." You look down at the words, unsure as to what she could see that could be wrong with it. This was one of your favourites.
Admittedly, it was a little short on you, similar in style and colour to the one you had worn to the Capitol the first time you came. But now, looking at what she was wearing and her friend, both with button-up shirts similar to Coryo's and different coloured blazers with a matching skirt, you realize that your attire is very different. Different vastly from everyone in the room as well, as more students are trickling in.
You didn't think it mattered until now.
You don't get the chance to come up with anything in defense of your dress before she reaches out and grabs at the material of your scarf, rubbing it between her fingers. "This is the scarf you had with you in the games. It doesn't look like your mother made it, though. This is mulberry silk."
You jump a little at the unexpected contact, and they laugh. "Uhm, no, she didn't." You clear your throat. "It's a family heirloom. I'm not sure where it came from." Not entirely a lie, it just wasn't your family heirloom.
"Neat. So, where are you staying?" She asks after a moment.
"With Coriolanus and his family. They've been very kind to me." You smile. Their eyes go wide and they look at each other again.
"You mean, on the Corso?"
"Yes, that's what he told me it's called."
"Wow, you really made yourself comfortable here, huh?"
"Well," You laugh slightly. "It's been an interesting transition, but he's made it much easier. He helps as much as he can."
Simultaneously they pick up on the pink flush of your cheeks as you remember the amount of times he's come running when you had a nightmare, only to bring you water and back to his bed to sleep after. Weirdly enough, he made you feel safer now.
"Oh my god." The girl with the bob laughs. "You like him, don't you?"
"Of course I do. He's my friend." You smile, a little confused. That only makes them laugh more, and you pick up on what they were implying. Quickly, you turn even more pink in the face. "Well, I mean, um..."
"Y/N." You turn your head at the mention of your name, looking up at the girl now standing in front of you. She was smiling, and immediately seemed to have a kinder spirit than the girls you were already sitting with. "Come sit with me, Coryo asked me to save you a seat."
"Oh, okay." You nod, grabbing your things again and standing. You were eager now to get away from those other girls.
"Lysistrata, come on. We were just talking to our new friend." The girl with the ponytail pouts, and you look back at Coryo's friend. She just stares at them, something akin to a warning in her expression.
"Where do you want to sit?" You ask her, still recovering from their mildly embarrassing comment as you stand up.
She just nods toward one of the upper rows and starts walking. "It was nice to meet you." You smile at the girls nervously before following behind her.
"Oh, and Twelve?" You stop and turn when the girl with the ponytail speaks up again. "Good luck with Coriolanus, though I hate to tell you I have a head start. We're actually engaged. But like I said, good luck!"
You feel your face pale and you just nod, quickly turning away and focusing your gaze on the long dark braids belonging to the girl leading you up the stairs.
Your mind is absolutely reeling as you follow her to some seats near the back. You didn't know he was engaged. Honestly, you thought you were kind of his girlfriend. He told you he loved you not ten minutes ago, for god's sake! But maybe it had meant something different to him all along. Was this something they did in the Capitol? Because back home if you kissed someone that meant they were your one and only, but maybe that was very different here. So many things are very different here.
"They aren't engaged. Don't listen to her." Coryo's friend, Lysistrata you think her name was, says as you sit down.
You look over at her. "They aren't?"
"No." She scoffs. "Livia just thinks they're getting married because her daddy wants them to. They hardly ever even talk."
"Oh." You reply quietly, looking down the rows at the girls you were just with. That does ease your panic. "Not... not that it matters to me."
"It's okay." She smiles kindly at you. "To be honest, he hates her." She whispers. "I think you've got a much better chance. He speaks very highly of you."
You blush, smiling back at her. "I don't believe we've met properly. My name is Y/N."
"Nice to meet you." She smiles, and for the first time today, it feels genuine. "I'm Lyssie."
"Did you go to the academy too?" You ask for the sake of making conversation. She seems lovely, and you're excited at the idea of actually having a friend in one of your classes.
"I did." She smiles. "I was Jessup's mentor. Coryo and I worked a lot together during the games."
You chew on your lip, nodding slightly.
Today was just full of draining conversations.
"I'm sorry." She adds quietly. "You all deserved better."
"I'm sorry I didn't stay with him." You whisper. "I regret it every day."
"Don't. You did what you had to do, no one holds anything against you. I think you did the right thing."
You just nod, opening your notebook. You have to hope that once you get all these impossible conversations out of the way and people know you better, you'll have other things to talk about. And maybe one day, the topic won't make you want to cry, throw up, and jump off the nearest building all at once.
"He was one of the best of us. He should have won." You say quietly.
"Don't say that." She smiles sadly at you. "I'm glad it was you if it couldn't be him, and he was very sick. He wouldn't have made it much longer anyway."
"I had to go home and see his family." You felt comfortable talking to her, like she wouldn't judge you. It was a relaxing feeling. "My heart breaks for them, they're good people. And they needed him."
"You know his family?" She asks.
"Not really. We've crossed paths here and there, my Ma helps them on occasion with fixing their clothes." You shrug. "Still, though. From what I know, they try to stay in life. Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends."
"Would you happen to know their address? I would love to write to them. To apologize, that is." She explains and you smile, nodding before scribbling it down in your notebook and ripping out the page to hand to her.
"Thank you."
Another two hours, another "icebreaker", and more stares. You hoped that your classmates would eventually get tired of staring at you, you imagined it would make it quite difficult to take notes or pay attention to the lecture.
You felt almost guilty about it. Coryo didn't tell you that everyone would be so shocked but you shouldn't be surprised. Looking down at your clothes and the scarf that had almost entirely been cleaned of the blood stains it carried back to Twelve, you thought maybe it could have something to do with how you dress. Obviously, it would be distracting if you stood out so much, so maybe fitting in would be better. As much as you love your handmade clothes, maybe they would have to be reserved for time spent at the apartment or on rare days out.
Coryo is waiting outside since he got let out a few minutes early. There was no use in starting a lecture when going over the syllabus took a full hour and a half. When students start pouring out of your room, he looks at everyone waiting to see your smiling face. Well, hoping to see you smiling.
Lysistrata walks out first, and with no sign of you with her he grabs her arm to catch her before she turns the other way.
"Thank you for doing that." He says, smiling sympathetically at her.
"Of course." She grins. "She's lovely, we talked for a bit before class."
"Yeah, she is. Anyway, thanks." He nods at her, dropping her arm and with a kind nod, she's back on her way.
He counts his blessings that he had run into her after leaving you for that class a few hours earlier.
"Hey, Lyssie." He grins, stopping her in the hall as she was on the way to class.
"Coryo. How are you?" She smiles and he shrugs.
"I'm alright." He replies quickly. "What class are you going to?"
"Uh..." She looks briefly at her notes. "Geography. B217."
He sighs in relief, and she looks at him confused and lets him pull her to the side of the hall. "That's Y/N's class, would you mind sitting with her? She told me that this morning that no one would and I know she just really wants to make some friends... Could you do that for me?"
"Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N, your tribute?" Her eyes go wide and he nods. She didn't pay any attention to gossip and focussed more on getting from one class to another. She didn't even know that you were here.
He chews on his cheek while he waits for her to respond. If anyone was willing to make that social sacrifice, it would be Lyssie. School was never a popularity contest to her.
"Of course I can. Yeah."
When you walk out not long after her, he's quickly joining your side. Earlier, he felt so uneasy having you all over him with people watching and by now he just missed you. If he didn't know better, he would have decided he didn't care- but he has to.
"How was it?" He asks and you smile, as per usual, but he notes that now you have untucked your scarf and are instead using it to drape back over your shoulders and around your arms and back.
"It was delightful." You say happily, following his steps along the hall. "And yours?"
"Delightful?" He asks, smile tugging at his lips. He can't help it. "That wouldn't be a word I would use, but I would say it was okay."
"Okay is better than awful." You shrug.
"Certainly is." He agrees, leaning down to speak quietly into your ear in the loud hallway. "Missed my girl, though."
"Is that me?" You ask, allowing him to open the door to the building for you.
"Of course it's you." He chuckles as you pass him. "What do you mean?"
You laugh. "Well, I met a girl named Livia in my class and she told me that the two of you were engaged."
Coryo groans, letting the door fall shut as he follows behind you. "No, ew. She's... no. Absolutely not. Maybe if I planned on marrying someone I absolutely despise, then she would be the perfect candidate."
"But that's not what you look for in a woman?" You ask, turning to walk backward in front of him.
"Nope."
"I'll take your word for it." You giggle, seemingly nonchalant about Livia's apparently blatant attempts to scare you away. Coryo wouldn't let that happen, and he's glad you didn't see it that way.
He smiles at you as he rejoins your side.
"Coryo." You say, breaking up the peaceful quiet of your walk home. He looks at you. "I think I shall look for a job."
"A job?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. "You don't need a job, we talked about this. Just focus on school."
"No, I know." You say quietly. "But I think I would just like some spending money, perhaps get some new clothes. Wouldn't that be nice?"
His heart sinks unexpectedly. As much as he would love to see you blending in more and embracing the culture that came with living in the Capitol, it didn't feel like that would really suit you. If he wanted a Capitol girl, he could have had one. Apparently, that's not what he wanted anymore, but the more you blended in and became "one of them" like he promised Dr. Gaul you would, the more likely people would be to accept the extent of your relationship. However undefined it may still be.
"If that's what you would like, but you don't have to work for that." He shakes his head. "I told you I would take you to the mall, the one with the ice cream shop. Maybe we can go on Friday." Friday was the first day of your weekend- the one day during the week that neither of you had any classes.
"That would be fun." You smile up at him. "I'll just have a look around, see what people are wearing. Get a better idea of what to save for."
"If that's what you want, love."
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sstrwbrryccke · 3 months
Note
I SAW UR SUGAR BABY!SOOBIN FIC AND IT'S SO FUCKING HELLO ?!? could u possibly write something similar for hoon :00 (n could it be male reader :00)
HIIII thank you im glad you enjoyed it ahhsagds !!! and i have so many thoughts for sunghoon <3 i think he would be a bit more smug compared to soobin, not as obedient but playful and cute in his own way!
the ending is a little rushed because i wrote this on the airplane to shanghai 💀😭 (also not proofread so its probably really bad)
— sponsor | sub park sunghoon
tags: aspiring skater!sugarbaby!sunghoon x rich!reader, amab reader, power dynamics, praise kink, unconventional settings to have sex, soft sex, shower sex, frottage, thigh fucking, body worship
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you were old money, the kind that people call 'disgustingly rich'. the type of rich family that throw galas instead of family gatherings, and that's where you met him in the first place. it was one of your many cousins' birthday, excessively wealthy and extravagant, a golden gilded hall decorated with a specially laid ice skating rink for performers. you heard your cousin had been an avid ice skating fan and wanted a live performance for his birthday.
the night had been smooth, dull as you would expect out of a bunch of old-money conservatives whose idea of humour is joking about tax evasion. but you notice just by the off-chance, a lean man clad in all black, bumping into a column, a word slips from his mouth; which you can only guess was a swear word. it was strange, he was clearly out of place. but this wasn't some wattpad story about you sweeping a mysterious man off his feet, so you shrugged and continued sipping on your champagne glass.
you only really notice him during the performance, the mass was seated in the grand hall, lights dimming as the spotlight shone; and it was seriously strange. because he wasn't even the main lead, in fact, he was one of the many backup dancers. yet you just couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something so enchanting about his elegance, you could feel his genuine dedication and passion from where he skated. when the show finished, you find yourself clapping, eyes still mesmerized as the boy leaves for the backstage.
a crowd gathers around the main leads, interested sponsorships and words of praise exchanged. while your eyes drift to the man walking off, taking a scone from the buffet stands before disappearing into the balcony. naturally, you follow after him— which in hindsight was slightly creepy because you've been practically eyeing him down. but you really wanted to spark up a conversation with this pretty boy.
when you reach the balcony, you find the backside of the man leaning on the railing. you lean next to him and he was visibly startled— so much so he dropped the scone in his hand. he does attempt to catch it— horribly, and the dessert tumbles into the void, his mouth agape. "aish..."
"ah, sorry."
"no, it's no problem! really! sir!" he quickly rectifies, aheming into his fist and waving his other hand around before looking directly in front of him. occasionally glancing at you with his eyes only. he was visibly nervous, definitely embarrassed too. he straightens his back and raises his chin, probably trying to seem professional in front of you; but you could tell with the way he clenched his jaw that he was tense. and you don't blame him, it looks like this was his first time coming to such a luxurious gala, surrounded by tons of powerful men and women who could either make or break his career.
"well, what's your name?" you offer a conversation starter, since it didn't seem like he was budging.
"i'm park sunghoon, sir!"
"nice to meet you park sunghoon, how old are you?" you ask smoothly, stretching a hand out for him to shake. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, what a shy and polite man.
he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before taking your hand with both of his, bowing. "nice, nice to meet you too! i'm 21 turning 22, sir."
"we're the same age, that means you don't need to call me sir."
"yes sir." he replies without much thought.
you give him a pointed look and he quickly shuts up. he was endearing in his own way though, the interaction made you smile. this man who had previously been so elegant and precise on stage was actually very timid.
"you caught my eye in the performance."
he lights up at this, turning his head to you with a small bashful smile on his lips. "thank you so much, i'm surprised you remember me."
"of course i do, couldn't keep my eyes off you in fact." you advance, tilting your head as you subtly flirt. you were into him and you wanted him to understand that. "oh." he mouthed, and it seems like he was starting to recognize the connotations of the conversation. he was still smiling, but you could see a pink tint on his pale skin.
"no, seriously. you're super talented, i want to sponsor you."
his smile drops, a shocked expression on his face instead, soon he's ecstatic. "really?"
you chuckle, "yes, really."
☆★☆
perhaps, your definition of sponsor was just sugar baby with extra steps. because soon, the two of you fall into that type of relationship. it started with a bouquet of flowers after his practice (which you went to weekly), then it became a dinner invitation, and eventually you were lavishing him with gifts and luxury items. okay, perhaps you were just courting this man in the form of presents.
you watch on the sidelines as sunghoon does his usual practice on the ice (a private ice rink you hired for him), he glances towards you with a mischievous grin before doing a silly spin. you just chuckle, shaking your head. when it was over you sling a towel over his neck like usual, handing him a water bottle. he stares at you, rather proud of himself.
"did you see the spin?"
"nah, i was looking at the wall." you joke, there was literally no one else but sunghoon to look at. "issh" he shakes his head, lightly punching your arm.
after, you treat him to a nice dinner in this expensive restaurant, he’s used to your dinner invitations, but he still can't settle his nerves coming to such a high-end restaurant. chatting with you soothed his anxiety though, and shortly he was joking and laughing like usual.
the first course was served, and you took this opportunity to slide over the blue container with the tiffany and co logo. sunghoon takes it shyly, glancing at you, you give him an encouraging look. at the beginning of this dynamic; he did try to refuse the expensive gifts, but you were insistent and sunghoon secretly enjoyed receiving the presents too.
he feels his heart thumping with excitement as he unwraps the case, a genuine surprise in his eyes when he pulls out the silver wire tiffany t bracelet. he’s been wanting it for a while now, mentioning it once casually. and you remembered! he tries it on for you; because he knows you like seeing him with your gifts. the bracelet glints in the light and he looks at you with a reserved smile.
"thank you so much... i don't know to repay you—"
"by being mine." you interrupt him, the words come out before you can even comprehend it, baffled by your impulsivity. "i'm sorry it just came out— if it makes you uncomfortable i apo—"
"yes."
you blink slowly, while he looks at you with full seriousness. and that's how sugar baby sunghoon came to be.
☆★☆
navigating the dynamic was like navigating any other romantic relationship, though sunghoon treated it like a contract at the start. unusual, but usual for sunghoon. it made you chuckle about his seriousness of the entire situation. the whole circumstance was bizarre but silly. what an endearing man. he would sit you down one day, hands clasped together.
"what are your expectations for me?"
and you snicker. he said it like it was a full-time job, which maybe it could be.
"recieve my gifts, and enjoy your best life."
he looked determined, continuing on. "is sex on the table?" he was surprisingly straightforward. it's always the quiet ones who were unexpectantly bold huh...
"if you're comfortable with that, yes." you give him a firm nod.
"i see." he pulls back, shy again.
"so, are you?" you tease, because he didn't outwardly give an answer.
he pauses, and you spot a glint in his eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his mind runs rampant. how cute.
"i am."
☆★☆
and wow was that quite literally the best decision in your entire life. everything remained the same, except now you have an extremely hot and sexy ice skater whose libido was as high as his talent. life was good. life was great.
training went as you expect, sunghoon absolutely smashed through his routine. running back to you with a proud smile, hands on his hips.
"i did pretty good, didn't i?" he always asked similar questions, pridefully, wanting to be praised.
"did you? didn't see." you would always tease him, and he would respond by playfully hitting your shoulder. the sass doesn't last long though, because the moment you two are alone in the locker room that's when you go down on him, embracing him as his lovely quiet moans seep out from your kiss.
it should be classified as an addiction at this point, the amount of unconventional places you guys had done it in. collecting locations like pokemon cards. it was tame at first, or tame for your standards anyway. the first time was in the hotel, of course, but after that, you went straight for the ice rink. its not exactly public, as you had rented the entire private rink for your beautiful ice prince, but the setting itself was scandalous. just imagining the sanction that housed many hours of his talent, being dirtied by his sweat in another sense was downright sinful. sunghoon never complained however, because as long as you praise him, he was satisfied. boy was he a sucker for praise, he keens when you whisper in his ear, almost over the moon when you compliment him on his skating. he would moan unashamedly, (normally he would block his moans or whimper) and you respond by spreading his legs in clear view of the ice rink. slam him down and feel his back arch prettily against your chest.
sunghoon was contradictorily both shy and straightforward when it came to his words and actions during sex. he's quiet and sometimes downright refuses to moan or beg. yet when he's close he would straight-up demand things from you. when you fold his flexible body in half and ram into his sensitive hole, he would spread wider for you (which you thought was physically impossible but he proves you wrong), yet bashfully hides himself when you praise him. he was a man full of contradictions, but it really drove you wild.
but it wasn't all about sex anyway, sex made up barely half of it, because it was really all about him. sunghoon just had a soul that was born to attract you. he's introverted and reserved with others, which explains why he doesn't attract sponsors or gain lead roles, but underneath it all was such a uniquely endearing man with a strong ambition for his passions.
you absolutely loved spoiling this boy and watching his reactions; him wearing the items you brought for him just gave you that extra dose of serotonin. when the two of you made it official, he was just so much more ecstatic with each gift he received from you. it wasn't even the gifts themselves that pleased him so much, it was the care you gave that really hit the mark for him. that burberry scarf he eyed for a few minutes? woke up to it on his lap. the prada bag he briefly mentioned he thought was fashionable? on the kitchen counter. you just paid so much attention to him, and he felt so loved.
you supported him in his ice skating career too, attending every competition he's been in and always making sure to watch over at least one of his daily practices a week. he had big ambitions and eventually wanted to compete in the olympics, which you had no doubts he would achieve.
gradually, you wanted to integrate him into your life too, though it was hard to explain to your parents the logistics behind taking a 'common ice skater' with you everywhere. you two managed to keep a low profile.
and by everywhere, you meant everywhere. you brought him to tennis and golf practices, he struggled with golf but had fun with tennis. and you brought him to basically every single gala and ball your family tree hosted. it was enjoyable at first, but introverts do what introverts do and he gradually voiced how he preferred quieter, more intimate meetings with you. in which you decided to only bring him to the important galas. (maybe every single one was a bit overkill) but he was so right because intimate stay-ins with him were so much better and more peaceful compared to your hectic everyday life. he was a very mindful and health-conscious person, so you often find yourself doing stretches and going to the gym with him. it was absolute zen. plus, there was the bonus of you slowly snaking your arms behind him, kissing his neck and lips as much as you want without worrying about public perception.
☆★☆
you can tell something was bothering him, with the way he fidgeted and dazed off in your shared hotel room. anyone in his position would he nervous, after all, he was competing for the olympics! through much hard-work from his side and endless support from yours, he qualified for the olympic team after winning nationals with flying colours. you knew he had it in him, you knew since the first day you met.
“hoon, you nervous?” you ask, coming up behind him to rub at his shoulders. he gives you a small smile before sighing. “a little.”
you pull him into a hug, your chest pressed towards his back. he relaxes slightly. “want to talk about it baby?” you stroke his stomach, trying to soothe him.
“it’s silly,” he gives you a half smile. you slap his thigh lightly “issh!”
“it’s not silly, tell me.” you pout, kissing his neck. he laughs as you lavish his neck with lovebites.
“i’m just worried that i’m going to lose.” he says in-between giggles. you temporarily stop your assault in his neck, lifting your head to look at him.
“you won’t lose baby, and even if you do, just being in the team is already an amazing feat. most people go their whole lives without even touching olympic level.”
he seemed a little reassured by this, but you could tell his mind was still swirling with other thoughts. you kiss his cheeks, waiting for him to open up about it himself.
“it’s just, if i lose, im wasting all your effort and money.”
you finally pause at this, giving him a look. “what? how am i wasting effort and money on you?”
he seemed a little nervous, gulping down his saliva. “i mean, you invested so much into me, the least i could do is win.” you were shocked, was he dense or stupid? maybe a little bit of both. you roll your eyes as you lift him in your arms. he lets out a startled gasp as you bring him to the bathroom. you face him towards the mirror, grasping at his chin so he looks directly into his eyes.
“do you see this? what a gorgeous, beautiful, godly man.” you whisper in his ear and you watch his cheeks blossom a scarlet red. your hands trail down to his chest, unbuttoning the top.
“wow, look at that. so pretty, so soft and perfect.” you knead his chest, flicking at his pink nipples before moving down, massaging his toned stomach. he was staring at the parts your hand were drifting to as you fondle him. you kiss the shell of his ear, making him shiver “hngh…”
your fingers trail down, you lick your lips at his delicious reactions. palming at his erection. “every part of you is so pretty. such nimble arms and thighs, no wonder you’re so good at ice skating. everything about you is just so lovable.”
he was trembling, glancing into your eyes in the mirror and you could tell he wanted you to continue. “don’t you get it already? you really think i brought all those gifts, paid all those lessons and sponsored you because it was an investment?” you whisper, he turns his face to meet with yours, taking your lips desperately.
“i love you.” he whispers breathily into the kiss, that was the first time any of you said that sentence. he freezes, anxiety filling his face.
“i love you too, hoon.” you french kiss him, your tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip, he reciprocates gladly.
“i love you i love you i love you so so much.” he stammers, grinding his ass against your hardening cock. “i love you too baby, you have no idea how much i love you.” you grunt into his ear, sliding your dick out from your underwear. the both of you were barely clothed in the first place.
“hngh put it in already please,” he’s never been this vocal before, you felt your cock twitch just at the desperation in his voice. but you controlled yourself, he had a skating competition tomorrow after all.
“hoonie the olympics is tomorrow.” he whines and you chuckle fondly. spoiled brat.
“put your thighs together.” you give his ass a light slap, he listens and puts his thighs closely. you could see his dripping cock through the small gap. “good boy.” you praise and he rubs his thighs together.
not waiting any longer, you slip your hard cock between his thighs, groaning lowly at the sensation. god it felt so good, he clearly thinks so too because he immediately whimpers, pushing back at your dick. you let him adjust to the sensation before slowly thrusting against his thigh.
“angh... ugh… so good… love you… love you…” he whimpered, panting softly. you pull his head to the side to kiss him again, hand grasping at both of your cocks and he cries into your mouth. you thrust harder and faster, he reciprocates happily by clenching his thighs tighter. soon his stomach was squeezing and his pants became breathier.
“gonna come, can i come? please? please?” and who were you to resist your prince?
“come for me hoonie, come for me.”
his thighs stutter and he clenches his teeth as a strangled voice comes out. he came in spurts, long and thin. you wish you could taste his pretty semen as well but thats for another time. you slip your cock out from his thighs, jerking yourself off and coming all over his ass and back.
it was arousing and you could almost go again, but he needed rest so you tenderly kissed his back, cleaning him up.
“i’m going to win for you.” he says breathily while you were wiping him down, you look at him amused, chuckling.
“don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”
“no, this seriously motivated me to win. i’m going to win the olympics and then we’re going to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.”
you guys share a look before laughing.
☆★☆
everyone could hear the thumping of their own hearts as they waited for the results to unveil. sunghoon grasps your hand and you give him a squeeze.
before you could process it, you were ecstatically cheering, turning to sunghoon. the man beside you was in genuine shock, staring at his high score as if it was an alien on earth. holy shit, he got the highest score and he’s in first place!!!
snghoon lunges for you, tumbling you out of your chair as he tightly hugs you. not like you cared about the people staring, because you shared the excitement. you hug him back just as tightly, stroking his back. you feel the crook of your neck and shoulder wet.
after a few seconds, you help him stand and he wipes his eyes with an embarrassed smile. you couldn’t stop grinning as he received his medal.
☆★☆
sunghoon was able to keep both of his promises that day. the moment you two arrived in the hotel, you had a very needy sunghoon clinging around you neck, drawing you into a deep kiss as you navigate around the room.
you manage to peel him off for a second, to undress him and yourself, stumbling into the shower. you adjust the water while sunghoon unrelentlessly grinds against your cock.
“hn, god please! ive been wanting this since yesterday, ive been so good, so good, please reward me” he whimpers quietly and you melt. you grasp his hips tightly, pulling his back flush against your chest and you grind down his ass. he groans, hands propped on the shower wall for support.
your finger plays with his rim and he whines, prodding the hole before inserting. you were careful, treating his body like porcelain as you coo into his ear. he was so desperate, willingly giving up his sweet voice for you to hear. you add another finger and he was now fully rutting against you, eyes closed as he fucked himself on your fingers. it was an endearing sight, but you pull out, slapping your cock on his ass.
“what do you want again?” you play innocent, chuckling at his offended expression. he groans, frustratedly pushing back at your cock.
“you know what i want! i want you inside me please!” he whines out and you laugh. you give him what he wants, slipping your cock into his tight hole, groaning as you feel his gummy walls enclose around you.
“you feel so good sunghoon, such a pretty boy.” you coo into his ear and he clenches his thighs tighter. you thrust into him, each one faster and harder than the previous one and he was in actual heaven. tongue lolling out as he groans with each motion, it didn’t take long until he was crying out a strangled coming.
you weren’t done with him yet though, you prop his flexible legs up, making him sink deeper into your cock as he chokes. before he could protest you start nailing into him, hitting his prostate so well and on point that he visibly crumbles, hands desperately grabbing at anything as his cock sputters out another load.
his eyes were wide as he watches his dick cry uncontrollably, while you adjust behind him, ready to piston into him all over again. oh boy was he in for a wild ride…
that’s how the night progressed, you plummeting his ass in the shower, and then at the bathroom counter, then you moved him to the hotel bed, forcing him to ride you until he couldn’t prop himself up anymore.
his body slumps over yours, exhausted and overstimulated, thighs trembling and nerves sputtering. but you still moved beneath him and he cries “can’t! can’t, hurts please it feels too good.”
you grin into his skin, jerking his cock a few times and he comes again. body limp. you pull out and the warm semen in his hole dribble out. just as you try to move to clean him up, his arms tightly wind around your waist.
“stay here.” it was a demand from your ice prince and you snicker.
“anything for the olympic winner.”
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akiira00 · 9 months
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hi !! is it possible to ask for jinwoo's shadows ? i just wanted to ask for a gn / male reader who is very affectionate with his shadows-- i'm sorry if you can't write for them ! have a good day ! "⊹ฺ(⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠)
— Shadows
Pairing: Sung Jin-Woo x G/n! Reader, Jin-Woo’s shadows platonically. (Idk how to tag this-)
Genre: Pure fluff.
Synopsis: Just some general headcanons with your boyfriend and his shadows!
A/n: Sure! Sorry if it’s a bit OOC, but I’ll try my best, hope you like it! It’s kind-of short tho-
Length: 0.5k words.
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I think the relationship with Jin-Woo would be a bit of a messy thing. Generally getting home late and all things.
But he does love you with all his might, so he’ll probably leave one, two or maybe even three of his trustable shadows to take care of you!
This would lead to many boring days on the couch as you waited for jinwoo, as you probably watched k-dramas with Beru. (I love him sm…)
Jin-Woo would often find you and Beru both bawling your eyes out together at even the death of a puppy in a movie. (I would too tho)
This leads to some scolding to Beru that he “needs to concentrate on his task” but nonetheless it’ll happen again.
“Beru, again…? Gosh…” Jin-Woo would say as he took a step onto your shared apartment, looking at how you and Beru were yet again ignoring his requests of seriousness and watching whatever thing on the TV.
But what did he not expect? Seeing Tank on the garden watching too. That made him facepalm as you laughed at his reaction, as you were leaning on the giant ice bear alongside Beru. “What- TANK, YOU TOO?!”
I imagine him ‘grounding’ the poor giant bear making him sit in the corner of the garden or something, but every time he did that, you were always by the side of the fluffy giant. (Wait- Can a shadow be fluffy…? Idk.)
Aside from the whole TV habits, Jin-Woo would often take you into rides on Kaisel’s back, watching over the city or far away to enjoy some time together.
Every ride of this ones would lead on you hugging the giant dragon as you both flied through Korea’s skies.
“Hang on tight.” Jin-Woo said as you both climbed up Kaisel’s back, and you quickly nodded, but the thing he expected you the least to do, you did. He turned away for just a second and you already were laid down on the dragon’s back without a care.
He’d climb up followed by a sigh, sitting down beside you and looking at you directly in the eyes. “You really want to do that…? I can make him fly vertically and you’d be dead.” He said, obviously not going to do it, so you just staid in place before you heard his voice again. “Kaisel, up.”
You instantly stumbled back onto your knees as the giant dragon flew straight up, with Jin-Woo mantaining you in place with his sort-of telekinesis skill. (He hadn’t tell you about his whole skill set and what it was.)
“Told you. Wasn’t difficult to just sit up, huh?” He teased with a smirk as you just let out a tiny pout, leaning your head on his shoulder as you both flew together, gently patting the dragon’s back every now and then.
He often teases you like that, maybe even when he finds you sleeping against Tank’s back, which is oddly really common.
Overall, being Jin-Woo’s partner not only gives you that wonderful man, but gives you tons of shadows to spend time with, and you certainly used that to the full extent.
You have him, a TV buddy, a three on one couch, bed and pet, and even a dragon. What else could anyone ask for?!
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etsuven · 1 year
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rating: sm-t cw: none i don't think!! includes: current anemo men as of the end of 3.2 (venti, kazuha, heizou, scaramouche, xiao) modern au, reader is pretty and i'm saying pretty because i think it's gender neutral everyone should be allowed to be called pretty summary: let's rank the anemo men as least to most brattiest subs <3 (also them as lovers!)
note: lets rank the men of my favorite element, anemo!!!!!! we're not reallyy ranking them as bf's only as subs- but uh this is just a small headcannon thing to pass the time between my writing!!! should i do these more often?? maybe you guys should give me headcannon asks (???) idk how to explain it, but i just want to have them as something to schedule or whatever- anyways, feel free to reply with your opinions!! (repost AGAIN bc my last post didn't show up in any tags <3)
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xiao
in my opinion, xiao is probably such a sweet boyfriend! even though he's not the best when it comes to talking to people, he always has you there to help him <3 (unless you're also quiet, then he'll be the one to talk for you.) he's not shy, he just doesn't like talking to people.
your innocent kisses on his cheeks and lips get him so flustered sometimes, and even though he's embarrassed by how you ended up catching him off guard so easily, the cute smile on your face makes up for it.
now, i feel that xiao is probably the sweetest sub. much like his in public self, he's not very loud- but that's only because he's hiding his moans. it works for a little bit, but every time you fuck, you end up touching that one spot that makes him moan louder than his hand can hide.
after that, he's unable to hide his noises anymore. instead- he opts for clutching the sheets next to his head or hips. his moans are breathy, with the occasional gasp or groan into the air.
he prefers receiving oral more than giving, but only because he likes how you can so easily reduce him to gasps and almost tears. (also he loves the look you give him from in between his legs)
i feel like he'd like it if you held his hand while fucking him- like he thinks it's intimate and it allows him to feel closer to you (well, he probably can't get closer than literally being inside him/you being inside him, but that's besides the point)
all in all, very sweet, not a brat at all!
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kazuha
kazuha my love my only limited 5 star besides the traveler who's higher than C0.... he's definitely a wonderful boyfriend. he's very kind, sweet, and he has a way with words that make you fall harder for him every time he says them.
he likes to give you sneaky kisses just to watch you jump in shock, and he's definitely the type to be like, "i'm sorry, love, but you were too pretty, i couldn't help it!"
kazuha is also a very sweet sub, and he wants to please you! you wanna touch him until he's on the verge of tears? go ahead! do you want him to sit in between your legs and make you cum as many times as you'd like? well, that's actually his favorite thing to do!
this pretty red clothed man LOVES to please you. in his eyes, he doesn't get to cum until you do. he's very good with his mouth and tongue, and it often leads to some situations where you're a little too distracted to continue your work. after all, how could you focus when there was a gorgeous man with furrowed brows and a flushed face sitting in between your legs?
when you finally get to touching him, you'll find that he has quite pretty moans. they're a bit more on the groany side, but they turn onto full on moans when he really gets into it. he doesn't hide his noises, in fact- he prefers that you hear just how good you were making him feel. you've almost gotten caught many times because of that...
he definitely likes it when you pull his hair. although he makes sure his hair is tied up perfectly when he's in between your legs, a ton of strands will always find their way outside of the previously neat ponytail thanks to your wandering hands... perhaps he should keep his hair down while like that? only to keep it from getting more messy- and definitely not to give you more to pull.
summary: he's very sweet, very attentive. if you'd like, get yourself a lover like him!
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venti
i feel that venti would be a wonderful boyfriend! contrary to popular belief, he isn't the type to date you only to abandon you in the name of freedom. he knows exactly how to cheer you up when you're feeling down, and he knows when to leave you alone when you need space.
he's very energetic, often times chatting your ear off when it comes to something he likes. he also loves giving you random things he finds in stores that remind him of you. you like a certain show? i can guarantee that he will buy a cute little keychain for you and give it to you when you're least expecting it.
if you're the more quiet type, he will gladly speak up for you. he wants you to feel as comfortable as possible.
now i feel that he's lowkey a tease in bed. he likes to leave lingering kisses on your skin just to get you worked up, and when you ask what he's doing, he'll pretend to be oblivious and walk away.
he wants you to throw him down, and the quickest way to get you to do that is to tease you until you can't handle it anymore. light teasing is all he does, as he doesn't want to accidentally annoy you and ruin the mood.
he has THE prettiest moans, kind of high and breathy, and he gets a bit choked up when you touch a particularly sensitive spot. he's also not the type to hide them, but he will do so if you request.
he loves it when you grab him by his hips as a way to keep yourself steady. you always manage to fuck him even harder when your hands are grasping his hips, something he very much enjoys when he just doesn't want to think anymore.
summary? very much a tease, but he knows how to tone it down when he needs to!
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scaramouche/wanderer
SCARAAA!!! thanks for you and your weapon but do you mind coming home one more time, i need you at c1- i don’t know what to call him here, but i’ll just stick with scara for now.
anyways, scara is such a good boyfriend he’s so sweet but it’s like backhanded sweet. like ‘i won’t admit that i really like you and i really want to kiss you but that’s embarrassing to admit so i’ll stay quiet until you do it first’ kind of sweet.
we all know from one of scara’s idle lines that he’s not afraid to speak up. he’s literally like “you didn’t like that? well that’s your problem.” so i feel like he would totally stand up for you if someone were treating you badly. but like he would insult them and leave them questioning if it was really worth messing with you.
he hasn’t experienced many romantic things in his life, as most people were too scared to even go up to him. so when you came along and absolutely turned everything around from how affectionate you were, he was quite shocked.
despite being bold and unafraid of consequences in his usual life, he’s quite shy when it comes to romance. holding hands gets him all embarrassed, the way you look at him like the answer to the life itself is right in front of you makes him so flustered. i can only imagine how he’d be like if you kissed him!
he’d be such an adorable sub, i can already feel it! he’s still a bit of a brat, thanks to remnants of his old personality being retained, he’ll talk back to you, but only because he’s flustered, and he feels that he doesn’t deserve to be touched in such a loving way.
he’ll try to egg you on, little things like “i bet i could do so and so better,” just to have you treat him a little bit harsher. he’s not glass, so don’t treat him so gently! he wants you to turn his mind into mush, he wants you to please him until forgets everything he did that day.
he loves it when you’re able to fuck him until he’s on the verge of passing out. he has quite a bit of stamina- due to not being human and all, so he’s able to go on for a while. he enjoys the feeling of everything building up until it eventually bursts, it’s overwhelming and he can’t help but get addicted to it. waking up to see you tending to him is just a bonus.
but there are times where he’ll be a bit vulnerable, and those are the times where you can be a bit more gentle with him. he won’t talk back, he’ll just embrace you and let you praise him for how good he’s being.
summaryyyyy: he’s a bit of a brat, but at the same time- not really. he’ll talk back, but at the same time he wants to be a good boy for you. it really just depends on what scara you get that day!
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heizou
pretty boy heizou <3 i have him but i don’t really read much on his personality and stuff, so i’m writing this based off of what i saw in his hangout quest.
he’s very much the flirty type of lover, always knowing what to say at certain times to get you all flustered. while he’s an expert at flirting at you, he gets quite embarrassed when you do the same to him.
forehead and back of the hand kisses are his fave, as they’re simple and sweet. though he isn’t opposed to a quick peck on the lips when you’re least expecting it.
as a detective, he is naturally attuned to your needs, knowing exactly what you want based on your body language. if you’re a bit fidgety in public, he’ll guide you away to give you a break. if your hands start to wander during what originally started as a small kiss? that was a sure fire sign that you wanted something more…
heizou is lowkey kind of a brat. the flirty nature of his doesn’t fade away when he’s about to get his brains fucked out, so prepare for him to sweet talk you and tease until he eventually can’t talk anymore.
he’ll always try to annoy you, whether that be by small remarks or outright disobeying you when you want him to do something. but unlike venti, he won’t tone it down. why? he wants you to wreck him. treat him like he’s just a toy for you to use.
his moans are on the sobbier side, as he cries pretty easily. he loves loves LOVES getting pinned down, so feel free to push his arms down into the bed as you’re fucking him so he’s unable to squirm away as he cries and pleads for you to let him cum.
summary: i don’t know much about him but he’s cute! very bratty, but he’s the fun kind of bratty. the kind where you don’t mind because it was so fun seeing him slowly lose his composure.
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