Tumgik
#not one of them held a brick in their life
Text
WHO’S GONNA KNOW YOU LIKE ME?
bsd, various x reader
what heartbreak feels like with each of them
angst, uses bridges from the tortured poets department
a/n: me realizing how fcked up it was for ttpd to come out while going through one of the worst breakups of my entire life 🧍🏻‍♀️ i might be at my limit
Tumblr media
THOUGHT OF CALLIN’ YA, BUT YOU WONT PICK UP…
chuuya knows he’s fucked up. he knows he can’t get back what he let go, that he’s already made his bed. but fuck, it hurts. but he refuses to let you know that because thats who he is. and your left seeing him everywhere- the dresses in the store windows, the puddles of rain on concrete, remnants of him in your shower and on your bed- memories of him embedded in your head and under your skin. marks from his passion left on your collarbone, his fingerprints still all over your heart. he claimed what was his forever and then left. and he knows that.
some nights you think of calling him, but sculpted a brick wall between you and the phone, cementing each brick together with your hurt. little do you know, chuuya thinks of calling you too, but he knows you won’t pick up.
THAT’S THE CLOSEST I’VE COME TO MY HEART EXPLODING…
atsushi simply couldn’t bare the thought of not being good enough for you. so he let things go before his heart could sink with the wreckage. he couldn’t handle anymore hurt after all thats happened- but he doesn’t know that he left that hurt with you instead. the anger, the confusion, the turmoil etches itself in your chest and tears through your ribs when you cry out alone. it wasn’t fair for him to leave the job of detective to you, to pick up the clues of your lost love and attempt to etch together a messy explanation. he said he didn’t want to hurt you. funny.
the biggest thing you’re left wondering is why? why did sweetest, most loving guy leave without a word? why did he do it so fast, so quickly, at the stroke of grace? why did the same hands that once handled your heart so delicately set it on fire and leave it to implode?
I WISH I COULD UN-RECALL HOW WE ALMOST HAD IT ALL…
there was no doubt in your mind that odasaku loved you. he loved you with every fibre of his being. he held you to his chest as close as possible. he laughed with you because only you could pull out the genuine joy and smiles from his soul. he danced with you in the living room to your favourite songs, swaying back in fourth with you barefoot on the ground. he kissed you like his lips were especially crafted to be pressed against you, your lips, your skin and your hands.
it’s all past-tense.
DID YOU SLEEP WITH A GUN UNDERNEATH OUR BED…
tachihara burned down every foundation of trust and security in your being. he was the most loyal and loving person you had ever met, one that promised his whole life and soul to be with you. you knew each other like no other, or so you thought. you learned about his betrayal, not just to you but to everyone. and all of a sudden, everything you knew came crashing down. the memories, the love, the loyalty- you had no idea what it was now. you scrubbed your body in the shower and washed the sheets over and over again- trying to get him off of you. you laid in the bed he once shared with you and wondered if you were just another step in his scheme.
was this planned? did he plan to break your heart? was crushing every single thing you’ve ever loved just another ruse? the only thing you knew was that you loved him.
HOW DARE YOU THINK ITS ROMANTIC LEAVING ME SAFE AND STRANDED…
kunikida wanted everything to stick to his ideals. he wanted to break your heart as softly and as kindly as he possibly could. he wanted to cushion your fall, to let you down assured. and he did just that. he left you safe, he left with you with a full explanation. he told you that he wanted you to move on without him, to live a bright beautiful life and be as happy as you possibly could. because kunikida knows that thats what you deserve.
but he was supposed to be there. thats all you can think as your stranded on your safe sanctuary that he left you on. he stranded you on an island with all you needed to survive- yet all you could think was the fact that he had actually left. it wasn’t supposed to end this way. you knew why. he explained everything to you. but the tears that rolled down your cheeks explained otherwise.
AND HIRE A PRIEST TO COME AND EXORCISE MY DEMONS…
the worst heartbreak of your entire life belonged to osamu dazai. you can still hear the screams, the cries that went down with the ship from that night. you can still feel his hands on your body, holding you to him while for the first time you saw him cry. you can still hear the shattering of the things you threw at him, telling him to get out but also not wanting him to leave. you remember the smell of him all over you, on your bed, your clothes, but also in your hair and even on your own skin. he haunted this place. his heart was still beating, lungs still breathing but osamu dazai died in your house. he died and his soul now haunts the place day and night, leaving no trace of your space untouched. it was a cruel goodbye.
osamu dazai died screaming. and now you wanted to as well.
I WONT CONFESS THAT I WAITED, BUT I LET THE LAMP BURN…
you held on to the idea that akutagawa would one day be ready for you. that he would set aside his grievances, his turmoil, the hurt in his lungs and the pain in his coat. you waited, and waited, and waited. waited for him to show up at your doorstep and embrace you, love you like you knew he could. you watched as the lamp flickered, as your skin wrinkled, as your hair turned grey and as the night sky watched over you for years. you should gave closed the window, turned out the light and slept. but you waited. you waited and hope that akutagawa would return. that he would one day love you like you loved him.
as you looked out to the stars, you prayed that he’d forgive you as you blew out the candle.
chuuya n. - fortnight
atsushi n. - the tortured poets department (tt)
sakunosuke o. - loml
michizou t. - the smallest man who ever lived
doppo k. - down bad
osamu d. - the black dog
ryunosuke a. - peter
57 notes · View notes
ilguna · 1 day
Text
☼ my tears ricochet pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼
Tumblr media
summary; it’s been six months since you were banished from district four. since then, you’ve been trying to lay low and keep your nose clean. one night, you and gale go to the local bar to wind down after a long week, and he helps you come to a realization that changes everything.
warnings; swearing, prostitution mention, alcohol, arson, death mention, mental health talk, torture.
wc; 6.5k
part one.
notes; hints of Gale slander but fish are friends not food!!
--
The July summer breeze feels nice against your hot skin, causing you to close your eyes to enjoy it properly. It’s even better this way. You reach back to lift the hair off your neck, which is slightly damp from sweat after working all day in the sun. A chill goes down your spine when the wind hits the spot just right.
There’s a lot of similarities between District Two and Four that you've come to notice over time, but the heat is not one of them. It’s very dry here, there’s a lot of desert and very little rain to sustain any real plant life. Any that do exist have already evolved to live off of practically no water. For miles, all you can see is dirt and half-dead bushes, 
While back home, you’re located right on the coast, allowing for more rainy days than plain sunshine. The trees, grass and flowers are always fed and healthy. Even if it doesn’t rain, there are clouds to block the heat from beating on you, making every afternoon a pleasant one. 
This weather difference alone isn’t enough to make you feel homesick, but there are so many other factors at play that contribute to it. When you first moved to District Two, you had a feeling that you’d never be able to get used to living here. It’s been six months since then, and you’re still a stranger when you walk the streets.
The only familiar thing—or rather, person—here is Gale.
Except, he isn’t from home. He’s not one of your childhood friends, or a neighbor from your previous neighborhood. You can’t talk to him about what could be going on since you got banished. He’s from District Twelve. The only thing you have in common is the fact that you’re both rebels.
You can’t even use your banishment as a way to bond with him, because he deserved what he got, and you were wrongly accused. While Finnick had framed you for allegedly giving the Peacekeepers your next steps—Gale had actually indirectly got Primrose Everdeen killed through one of the ideas that he developed with Beetee.
He might not have been the one to send out the bombs, because former President Alma Coin had to approve that order, but he was the one to suggest using it. Gale was desperate to win the rebellion at any cost, until he paid the biggest price.
There’s a good chance that Gale will never be able to go back to District Twelve after what he did. Especially since Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch have decided to stay and continue living there. Although, with how well things are going in Two with the volunteer work, it probably hasn’t crossed his mind. 
It’s not exactly easy work. Most of the time, you don’t have enough time to be thinking about anything other than what your hands are doing. It’s mind-numbing in a good way, and usually you feel pretty accomplished by the end of the task. 
The work deals with a lot of construction and beautification. Usually, you don’t get paid for it. Sometimes they’ll give out free lunch if it’s going to be a particularly long day of tearing down bricks and planting greenery. There’s been a few times where you’ve been so caught up in the work, that you went all night.
It’s gotten you a lot of recognition from the people that are native to Two, which is not what you’re striving for, but it’s nice to not have to worry about the hatred as much. When you first arrived at the train station six months ago, it was pretty clear that a lot of people held prejudice against you. Over time, they’ve gotten curious and have bothered you to ask what happened.
It takes a lot of explanation and convincing, but eventually they believe you. Or, at the very least, they take a neutral standpoint and choose not to pick a side entirely. You know that it’s a lot of he-said, she-said. It’s hard to know who’s telling the truth in a serious situation like that.
On one hand, it’d be nice to believe Finnick, because he’s the one that first came forward with the story. Plus, he’s been Panem’s darling for so long that it would be heinous for him to do something so selfish and seemingly out-of-character.
On the other, you have never done something so snake-ish ever. Everyone should know that if a situation like that happens, you would take the hit of being taken for the greater good. It’s your one life versus several. As terrifying as it would’ve been, you could’ve handled whatever the Capitol had to offer for you at that moment. 
Of course, when you tell people the real side of the story, you take a massive hit for not telling the group when you had the chance before the sewers. The issue is that Finnick had been keeping a close eye on you, under the guise that he wanted to protect you, but also to ensure that your mouth stayed shut. 
If you could go back and change the situation, you would. 
“(L/n), (Y/n).” A woman calls.
You open your eyes, briefly being blinded by the sun while you turn to face Azalea. She’s the head director here in District Two for the volunteer work, she keeps everything very organized. It’s less stressful when she’s the one taking care of things for the day.
“Yes?” You ask, finding her at the front of the crowd.
She’s a short, blonde woman with tan skin. She holds up the clipboard, showing you the paper for a second. All you can gather is the fact that it’s a signup sheet, so you begin to move forward, carefully brushing past some of the workers in the process.
“What time did you get here today?” Azalea asks, once you’re in front of her.
“Um—“ You glance over your shoulder to search for Gale, because he’s the one with the watch. He keeps track of the time and when you go on break.
“Seven-twenty.” Gale says from beside you, making you jump slightly. “We both got here at that time.”
Azalea hums, writing that down in the time slot next to your names. You look over Gale, who you haven’t seen in a good fifteen minutes. There’s a smudge of dirt beneath his eye, so you lick your thumb, reaching to rub it away. He dodges your finger, face twisting in disgust.
“You look dirty.” You tell him, wiping the dirt off of his skin. “Stop being a baby, I’ve seen you eat a potato that touched the bar floor before.”
“It was expensive.” 
“Are either of you available tomorrow for a paid job?” Azalea interrupts. “I’ve got a house call from Enobaria Golding that needs to be done, and no one is signing up for it.”
“What’s it for?” You ask.
“She’s turning Victor’s Village into a memorial, I believe she just needs help moving furniture around in some of the houses. As well as cleaning up the neighborhood’s fountain, loose leaves, and pavement.”
You look at Gale with raised eyebrows, his lips are pressed together. “What time?”
“Whenever you can, she thinks it’s going to be a three day job at the very least. She’s paying over a hundred per hour, it used to be lower, but got raised because it’s urgent.” Azalea looks between you two.
“I’m in.” You tell her, “We could have it done in three days.”
Gale sighs, “Yeah, sign me up too.”
She begins to write your names down on a separate paper. “Will it be a big deal if I close it, then? I don’t think I’ll be able to find others. No one’s keen on Enobaria.”
“That’s fine.” You agree, “I know her, we’ll get along. Is it a contract?”
“I can make it one.” Azalea nods. “Swing by later tonight, I’ll have it ready.”
“Sounds good, Azalea. Thank you.” You nod.
“Are we good to go?” Gale asks, beginning to take a step back.
“Yup. Be good, you two.” She points the end of her pen in the middle of you guys, and then turns her attention back to the group that’s waiting to sign out.
Gale takes charge on leading you out of the center square. With how tall he is and the aggressive look on his face, he clears a path faster than you can. Besides, no one wants to be more than three feet near him. And yes, that has to do with his own reputation. 
“What’s your plan for tonight?” Gale asks over his shoulder.
“Well, since we’re probably going to get a late start tomorrow, I wouldn’t mind going to the bar tonight.” You raise your eyebrows.
He hums, “Right now?”
“Sure, why not?”
With that, Gale changes direction, heading for the good bar on the other side of District Two. When you first came here, you spent a lot of time bar hopping. In those weeks, you figured out that the fancy places were not, in fact, better. They were just more expensive. 
It wasn’t until you found the dirty place on the corner of Upper Heights, did you realize that they charge less for better quality. The only perk of going to those higher-end places is the fact that you can brag that you went there. You don’t talk to many people outside of Gale, and he was the one you took with you.
Well, that’s not entirely right. You didn’t take him with you—he tagged along, despite knowing that he was unwelcome. You didn’t like him very much to begin with back in District Thirteen because you thought what he did to Peeta’s family was pretty shitty, so you tried to steer clear of him as much as possible. The way he acted during the Capitol storming just solidified your ideas.
When Gale heard that you were going to be staying in District Two, he attached to you. You tried several different ways to get him to leave you alone, ranging from practically verbally abusing him to flat out ignoring. He didn’t care, he was ready for whatever you had to throw at him.
It eventually hit the point where you figured that you might as well deal with him. At the time, it would’ve been easier to put up with Gale than to try and convince someone that you were worthy of a conversation. He was an ass to put up with, and you caught yourself wondering how Katniss hung around him for so long.
In the end, it worked out. You and Gale can talk to each other without arguing. You two have a lot more in common than you originally thought, too. Although, some of his ideas are questionable, and you usually have to stop him from talking to keep that peaceful state.
“I’m surprised you want to drink so early.” Gale remarks.
“It’s almost eight o’clock.” You reason, motioning to the sky. “It’s not my fault it’s still bright out.”
The sun is slowly setting on the horizon, getting ready to say goodbye for the night. Which is good, because you’re tired of the heat. Unfortunately, it’ll still be warm out, even with the flaming ball in the sky gone. At least the bar has air conditioning. 
Gale reaches for the handle, pulling the door open. He holds it for you as you enter first, allowing you to choose where to sit tonight. You head for the table in the corner, the one that lets you have a perfect view of the entire room, and a quick escape for the door. 
Gale begrudgingly takes his jacket off and sets it on the chair that has its back to the room. “Your usual?”
“Yes, and water, please.” You tell him, reaching for your wallet. “I’ll pay for the first round. We can alternate tonight.”
Gale holds his hand out, watching as you drop the cash in his hand. He counts it as he walks away, heading for the bar top. You watch as he and the bartender go back and forth as the drinks are made. A minute later, Gale comes over, placing the glasses on the table. 
You start with the water, parched. They provide water, but they keep the bottles to recycle them, even if you aren’t finished with what’s inside. Once half the cup is empty, you start on your mixed drink, watching as Gale takes a sip of straight brown liquor.
“Do you remember what Azalea was saying about next week?” You ask, watching as Gale’s face twists.
“You mean the beach clean up?” Gale asks.
“Yeah, she said District Four, right?”
“I think. And whatever else is beside it. They’ve got their own coordinators over there, so they aren’t taking volunteers. Trust me, I tried.”
“They would’ve denied me, anyway.” You roll your eyes.
“I don’t know, Azalea hesitated. She said that we’d be useful, but the deadline passed a couple days ago.”
“Any victors going?” You ask.
He scoffs, “No, the last I heard, everyone’s hands off.”
You hum, resting your head on your hand. You get about the same information that Gale does when it comes to the victors, usually in snippets. 
Enobaria’s here, obviously, in District Two. You didn’t know that she was doing a memorial for the Two victors until today, which is nice of her. You can’t imagine how hard it is to be the only surviving victor of a district. Especially since Lyme was alive for the rebellion, but got killed during the storming of the Capitol.
Speaking of which, Beetee’s working in the heart of it under Commander Paylor. You’re not sure what he’s doing exactly, likely something with electronics or the defense system, if you had to guess. All you know is that he was able to resume basically what he had been before, this time for a better cause.
As for Katniss, there’s a lot of mixed news on her. Some say that she’s doing over-the-phone therapy appointments with Doctor Aurelius, mandated by Paylor to assess Katniss’s state of mind periodically after the assassination of former President Snow. Others tell you that she’s been skipping calls and hasn’t been out of her house in who-knows how long. 
After everything that happened, you just hope that she's doing okay. 
Peeta is doing his own sessions, also with Doctor Aurelius. Except, he’s not in Twelve, he’s still stationed in the Capitol for the time being. There’s a lot of progress regarding the hijacking, but it’s hard to know for sure if permanent damage hasn’t been done. And they can’t really test that out, either.
Haymitch… could honestly be anywhere. You heard he was forced to attend rehab in District Thirteen a second time, getting him completely sober. He’s fallen off the map since then, so your best guess is that he’s still there. You know post-war that he began to struggle with his sobriety after losing so many longtime friends.
This brings you to the few people that you could care less about. Starting with Johanna, she’s in District Seven, enjoying her life. She isn’t doing anything of importance, just wasting away in her own victor house, letting people wait on her. They tried to get Doctor Aurelius to rope her in, but she’s resilient. She doesn’t care about bettering herself, even though it’s pretty needed after the torture.
Annie Cresta is living in District Four, right alongside your ex-boyfriend and traitor, Finnick Odair. You don’t get much information on them, and it has to do with the fact that you get pissed off at the sound of their success. From your understanding, they live guilt-free and happy in their mansions, sleeping in their own beds.
When you ask for updates regarding Four, it’s a hit or miss if you get anything of importance. For example, they could tell you that fishing’s down, and it has been for the past couple weeks. Or, they’ll lay it on heavy, by telling you that your childhood home and your victor home are nothing but foundation.
You remember how dark the world became when you heard the news. Finnick told you on that runway in City Circle that they’d burnt your victor house down, something that you’d be able to live with. It didn’t have the prized possessions of your parents and siblings, or the pictures that captured you growing up. The only physical memory of the family you once had.
Apparently, not long after Finnick returned to Four, they’d set your home ablaze, too.
A part of you wonders whether or not that was encouraged by him. God forbid if you ever find out that’s the case. You might not be very threatening now, but nothing will stand in the way between your fists and his face if he told them to take away your last safe haven in Panem.
Anyway, when you were told the news about your childhood home, it almost became your breaking point. You’d been in Two for about three weeks at that point, and you were in no sound state to hear something so heavy. Especially on top of everything else that had been happening in the last year.
“Tomorrow’s July fourth.” Gale says, kinda changing the topic.
“Reaping Day.” You agree, nodding, taking another sip of your drink. “This will be the first year where a Hunger Games hasn’t taken place in Seventy-Six years.”
Gale stares off at the bar for a couple of quiet seconds. “What was it like being a victor?”
“Was?” You repeat. “You act like that’s a title that’s been taken away. I am a victor.”
He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Still.” You mutter. “I don’t know, what was it like being a worker in the mines?”
Gale’s face scrunches up. “You’re really comparing my district work to victor life?”
“I’m not saying district work isn’t hard or dangerous, especially with the mining stories that you were telling me. However, only one of us has been reaped twice and fought in both Hunger Games.” You remind him. “I have killed more than six people on purpose with three indirect kills following that.”
“You act like that’s something to brag about.” He squints at you.
“I’m not saying it is. All I’m saying is that victor life isn’t easy, either. And if you need an example, take Annie Cresta.”
“Annie Cresta is an anomaly.”
“But Katniss isn’t.” You raise your eyebrows. “I bet she had PTSD following her Games, and couldn’t hold a bow without remembering what she used it for inside of the arena.” 
Gale makes a face, tilting his head. “You’re not wrong.”
You raise your hand in his direction, because you knew you weren’t wrong. “Anyway, to answer your question—before the rebellion, there were hard parts and there were easy parts. Especially when it came to mentoring.”
His eyes land back on you. “How was that?”
“A nightmare.” You tell him. “There’s a reason why a lot of the victors ended up like Haymitch. Or addicted or morphling.” You swish the ice around in your glass.
“I’ll grab the next round.” Gale reaches for your cup, you move your hand.
“Thanks.”
He slides off his chair, heading away. With the questions he’s asking, you’re going to be drinking the entire night. He’s never been interested in victor life before, but you suppose there wasn’t a lot of opportunity to ask questions with Katniss. Besides, she’s not nearly as experienced as you are in that area.
He could ask you anything about the Capitol, and you’d have an answer for him. There was one point in your career where you had to be studying their mannerisms because Snow was getting ready to put you on the chopping block. Your victory almost completely outshone Finnick’s, you were going to be his ticket out of the prostitution industry, but your popularity died quickly.
For what reason, you’re not sure. All you know is that Snow sent you an ‘I regret to inform you…’ letter, telling you that you’ve been shelved. As if that was supposed to be upsetting, instead of relieving. You even remember crying in your room, praising whatever intervened and saved you.
When Gale comes back, he’s got more questions, “Wasn’t there good aspects about it, too?”
Your face twists as you take the first sip of your drink. “I guess. Besides the money and the house, we were free to do basically what we wanted in the Capitol, in moderation.”
“You weren’t trapped inside of the Tribute Center?” He asks, eyebrows raised.
“No,” You scoff, “We were anything but trapped. We were encouraged to enjoy what the Capitol had to offer, we were walking advertisements of the Hunger Games. I didn’t take advantage of it though, I’d only been on them a couple times before the Quarter Quell.”
“Why?” 
“They couldn’t just set us free, obviously. They had to keep an eye on us somehow, and that was done through the street cameras. They’re everywhere.” You shake your head. “I mean, you can’t go a single block without them.”
Gale pauses, putting his glass back down on the table. “Were they on the street when we were passing through?”
“Yeah, of course. The cameras are less frequent on the outskirts because there’s not a lot of crime in the Capitol, but they exist. It gets more difficult around the President’s Mansion because that’s a huge security risk.”
Gale stares at you, unmoving.
You look over his face, and then down to his drink. “What?”
“Are you hearing yourself?” He asks.
“Yeah?”
Gale smiles a little bit. “Never mind. What was your favorite thing to do in the Capitol?”
“It had to be the bars, or the clubs. I couldn’t go to very many of them, though. Which meant that I spent a lot of time in cafe’s.”
“Why couldn’t you go to clubs?”
“Finnick, mostly. He was a darling.” You rub the rim of your glass. When you look up at Gale, you raise your eyebrows. “You know, the whole prostitution thing. They always knew where he was because of the cameras. I’m lucky I never got pulled in. I came close several times.”
Gale presses his lips together. “They’d watch the street through the camera?”
“Yup, and they’d send high officials to our location to steal Finnick for the night, because he couldn’t say no. They could even play the footage back to see where we were coming from.”
“How far back?”
Your eyes wander away from his face. “I’m not entirely sure.” You lean back in the chair. “I mean, the Capitol used to pull footage from a year before of the victors to prove there were fashion trends.”
“So you’re telling me that they have footage of the streets from a year ago? Or at least, six months ago?” Gale presses.
“They should. I don’t know what good it would do now.” You tell him, locking eyes with him.
Gale doesn’t say anything, staring at you intensely. You open your mouth to ask what’s wrong with him, but end up sealing your lips, eyes narrowing in his direction. He does this to you sometimes when you’re missing a piece of a puzzle, and he’ll refuse to tell you what it is because he wants you to work it out.
It has to do with the cameras in the Capitol, because that’s what he’d been asking about. It’s such an insignificant detail, you’re not sure why he’s hung up on it. He had to have known there were cameras, that’s how they kept track of where you were in the sewers. If they hadn’t already known where you’d be going, of course.
The Peacekeepers found you on the street, thanks to those cameras. They probably even planned it down to the second to make sure that you were out of sight, in case any of the others came out of the apartment complex to look for you. Just like how they’d done to you and Finnick before…
You jerk upright, eyes widening as you watch Gale break into a smile. “Oh my god, there might be footage of Finnick and I on the street. And it might even have audio.”
“I was wondering when you’d get it.” He laughs.
You look around the bar, searching for the clock to find the time. It’s almost nine o’clock, the Justice Building closes at nine-thirty. Since it’s Friday, it’ll be closed through the weekend, unless there’s an emergency. And they won’t count your situation as one.
“I need to go.” You tell Gale, sliding off your chair, pulling your jacket over your arm. “I have to speak to Mayor Sybil.”
“Right now?” Gale asks, face twisting.
“Yes, right now.” You tell him. “I’ll meet you back at the house.” 
You head for the door in a rush, just barely getting the gap open wide enough for you to slip through before you’re running down the street. The Justice Building is on the other side of the town, where Azalea organizes the volunteers. You know it's a fairly long walk but you’ve never had to run there before.
You clutch the jacket to your chest, one arm pumping viciously at your side. You try your best to maneuver through the main and side streets of Upper Heights. Unfortunately, it’s not late enough for the town to be empty, especially not since it’s leading into the weekend. You receive several stares, people fully stopping to watch you run by, and heads turning at the sound of your feet crunching against gravel and cobblestone.
You try to keep your breathing as even as you can, remembering the rigorous training for the Quarter Quell that Mags put you through. She knew better than anyone what to expect. If it weren’t for her, you would’ve been unprepared.
The run feels like forever, but can’t be anymore than fifteen minutes—maybe twenty at the most. The second you see the Justice Building, a smaller boost of energy enters your system, and it’s the last push you need to make it to the doors in time. Right before the receptionist tries to lock it.
Her key is in the door when you push it open, gasping for air, wiping the sweat from your eyes. The cool air from the vent hits you in the face, easing the burning pain in your face. 
“Excuse me.” The receptionist says, her face is twisted. “We’re closed for the night.”
You shake your head, breathing through your mouth as you look up at the clock on the wall, which is right above a bench. Good, you need to sit down, or you’re going to lay on the tile floor. You bet that it’s cold.
“You don’t close…” You manage to get out, trailing off for a few breaths. “For another ten minutes.”
She presses her lips together. “We’ve had a slow day, so we’re closing early today.”
“This is urgent.” You breathe. “I need to see Mayor Sybil.”
“You can come back and visit her on Monday.”
“Respectfully, that’s not happening.” You tell the receptionist. “We can waste time arguing, or you can just bring me to her.” 
She glares at you, but starts walking down the hallway, presumably to the mayor. You get off the bench, following her. It’s a fairly quiet walk, if you tune out the stomping of her heels against the floor. And the occasional annoyed sigh.
She stops in front of the mayor’s door, knocking on the wood next to the crystal glass as a courtesy, before swinging the door open without permission to enter.
Mayor Sybil must be used to this, or doesn’t care. She looks up from her rectangular glasses with raised eyebrows. She looks between you two for just a moment, and then a little smile comes to her face as she gets to her feet.
“Miss (L/n), to what do I owe this pleasure, tonight?” She asks.
“I’ve been wrongly accused.” You tell her, stepping inside of the room. You drop your jacket onto the chair in front of her desk. “And there’s proof.”
Sybil winces, beginning to tilt her head, which means she’s going to start doubting you, and you don’t necessarily blame her. For the longest time, you’d come to the Justice Building and beg for them to reconsider. Sybil knows your routine by now.
“Listen, (Y/n), you know—” She starts.
“No.” You cut her off, glancing at the receptionist. “I need to speak to Sybil in private.” You tell her, just before closing the door in her face. “Sybil, the Capitol has cameras on the street.”
When you look at her, you can see that she’s placed her glasses on the top of her head, rubbing her nose. “Go on.”
“The cameras should’ve caught the conversation between Finnick and the Peacekeepers, and there’s going to be audio to go along with it.” You pull out the chair, stepping around the arm to sit down. “Will you please get Paylor on the phone?”
“Promise me this isn’t a waste of time.” She says, sighing.
“I promise I’m not wasting your time.” You tell her.
“If I were you, I’d put the guns down.” Finnick advised in a calm, collected voice. “It wouldn’t be a very good idea to kill us on the street, unless you want to alert the people we’re with, of course. It could give them a good running head start.”
There was a tense silence that passed between you and Finnick and the Peacekeepers that had just evacuated the truck, large guns in their hands. Although, it’s not entirely obvious through the playback, because your faces are hidden from the camera because of the angle it’s sitting at. You have a perfect view of the Peacekeepers, though. 
“Who says we have orders to kill you?” The Peacekeeper shoots back. “We have orders from President Snow to take you by any means necessary.”
“That’s not a good idea, either.” Finnick’s voice is smug. You remember the smirk that was on his face. “If you try to take us by force, we’ll make sure our companions are aware you’re out here. Same cards dealt.”
You watch your past self shift nervously on her feet, shaking her head. Finnick doesn’t move from where he stands, arms still raised in the air. The Peacekeepers begin to create a half-circle around you two, because it was more important to bring some back to the mansion, instead of being empty handed.
“We can make a deal.” Finnick offered cooly, “If you’re willing to make one.”
“Like what?” The Peacekeeper humored him.
“I can tell you where you can catch all of us together.” He told them plainly. “We figured out there are too many Pods here on the street, because we have a device. We plan on going down into the sewers to evade the Pods. The best time to come and get us would be then, because it’s going to be a maze down there. And you’ll have the advantage.”
There’s a few gasps that fill the room you’re sitting in. Your face begins to twist, eyes focusing on the screen. Your past self lowers her arms, in the middle of realizing that Finnick is selling your group of friends out to save himself. And less importantly, you.
If only the people around you could see the horror that crossed your face in that moment. As you stood there hopelessly. It was too late to stop Finnick or save the situation. What could you do? Kill the Peacekeepers all by yourself? Claim Finnick was lying? 
For six months, you’ve been blamed for being a bystander if what you were claiming about Finnick was true, but it was never that simple. They would stand there dumbfounded, too.
“As long as you don’t interfere before we get to the apartment and down in the sewers, we won’t tell the squad about this encounter.” Finnick told them, keeping control of the situation. He lowered his arms, but you didn’t dare to move, watching as he held out his hand to shake the Peacekeeper’s, wanting to seal the deal.
In complete silence, they shake hands. “Let’s pack up and roll back to Headquarters.” The main Peacekeeper told the others, not bothering to acknowledge the conversation he’d just had with Finnick.
The two of you stood there and watched as they all got back inside of the armored truck, before driving down the block. They took the soonest left, and disappeared out of sight completely. It wasn’t until you were sure that they were gone, did you lower your arms.
Finnick began to lead the way back to the apartment, a gentle hand on your lower back to guide you down the sidewalk. After five minutes of total silence, he cleared his throat. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The camera angle changes because you’re leaving the view of the first one, and the audio is getting quieter. There’s a gap of silence as the microphone struggles to pick up the conversation, meaning it misses your entire response. Which consisted of something snarky and along the lines of, “What about them?”
The audio comes back in time to catch Finnick. “Don’t say anything to them about what happened. It’ll screw everything up, and put us back into danger.”
You tear your eyes from the television, swiveling around in your chair to find Finnick sitting across the room. All the color has been drained from his skin, face dropped entirely as his truth spills out. And this is only the beginning.
Finnick’s eyes flicker over to yours, you see that they’re watery. A smile comes to your face when you shake your head at him. This won’t work on you. You have no sympathy for the man that lied and got you shunned from the community of your home district. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You snapped at Finnick, disgusted. “They’re our friends, we’re supposed to be a team! We wouldn’t have made it this far without them!”
“This is what has to be done if you want to make it home.” Finnick told you. “We don’t have a choice. Now that they know where we’re going next, there’s no point in changing plans. The sewers are our best bet.”
“That’s not true anymore.” You seethed. “We’re over, Finnick. I can’t be with you.”
You raised your hand, waving him off when he tried to grab you. He let you take the first couple of steps away, and then loosely followed you from a distance to make sure he wouldn’t set you off. The camera follows you back to the apartment complex, where you go inside, and the feed ends.
You look around the room from person to person, finding most with solemn faces as they realize they trusted the wrong victor. President Paylor inhales, as if she’s going to speak, and then she lets it go with a shake of her head.
Even Plutarch has a grimace on his face, because this is not how they want to picture their darling Finnick Odair. After the sacrifice he made by telling Panem about his trauma, he should not be painted in this light. 
“It’s not tampered with.” Beetee breaks the silence, adjusting his glasses. “If any of you were wondering. It couldn’t have been, this is raw footage straight from the Capitol’s systems.” He laces his fingers in front of him on the table.
“I want this aired.” You tell Paylor, she locks eyes with you. “I want the entirety of Panem to know that Finnick is the heartless asshole that sold out the Star Squad, and that it wasn’t me.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.” She tells you.
“Why’s that?” You ask her, eyebrow twitching upward briefly.
“There was no harm done.” 
A scoff leaves your mouth as you get to your feet, trying to be the same eye level as her, since she refused to sit in a chair. “No harm done?” You repeat. “Are you sure? His lies were aired on Katniss’s trial. Everyone in Panem was tuned in to hear it. He humiliated me, and none of you would fucking believe me when I told you the truth.”
“Unfortunately—“ Plutarch begins, trying to help Paylor.
“I got cast out of District Four, the place that I—“ You tap your fingers to your chest multiple times, “was born and raised in. My people think that I’m some monstrous traitor. They didn’t feel safe with me there. This whole time they’ve been sleeping beside a killer.” you spit.
“That’s enough.” Finnick says.
You point at him, eyes sharp. “You don’t get to decide when it’s enough. You’ve had plenty of chances—plenty of time—to come clean, and you know what you said? You told me, ‘It was the right move to make’. You make me fucking sick.”
Finnick raises his hands defensively. “You could’ve said something, yourself.” 
“If I wasn’t so afraid that you were going to turn on me, too, I would’ve.” You snap. When you turn back to face Paylor, you tilt your head. “You sent me to District Two, where all your castaways go. There, I learned that my childhood home was burnt to the fucking foundation because they believed him.
“Would you consider that ‘no harm done’?” You ask her. “I didn’t get any of my belongings after the war, because you told me that my valuables weren’t urgent or important and that you’d ’get around to it’. I don’t have any pictures of my dead family, Paylor!”
The room is silenced again as you breathe heavily, trying to blink the rising tears from your eyes. You will not cry over this. You will not cry in front of any of them. They can’t see how desperate you are.
“I have the right to a trial.” You tell her, once the lump has left your throat. “And I want one. I want Finnick to be put on trial. His guidance murdered several members of the Star Squad.” You look at Finnick. “Messalla, Jackson, Castor, Homes and Leeg were lost in the sewers because of him.”
Haymitch, who’s standing in the very back corner, looking worse for wear, lets out a loud sigh. “She’s right. Finnick needs to be held accountable.”
“Thank you, Haymitch.” You relax.
Paylor looks down at the ground, closes her eyes and says, “Finnick Odair is now in the custody of the Capitol for his interference with Project: Mockingjay.”
“Paylor.” Finnick tries to reason, but her guards move forward immediately, cuffs in hand.
“I told you that you’d regret this.” You say to Finnick, his face twists. “Your actions have consequences, and it’s time you learn that.”
21 notes · View notes
dragon-business · 7 months
Text
Majima: well, since we’re being attacked, we need to recruit more people that know how to fight Kiryu: *brings all the LGBTQ+ and kink communities of Kamurocho*
Yes, here in Majima Construction we have the best lineup: divorced duo of comedians, gay voice actor of NSFW audio dramas, Ako Okano, the bisexual patriarch of the Ymazaki clan, the leather kink guy (he’s very shy and sweet), some startupers, the bomber, the sniper, the guy with no redeeming qualities at all, Minami.
15 notes · View notes
dandyshucks · 4 months
Text
i think a big plus of having Guz be so tall and just in general bigger than me is that I could sit in front of him with my back to his chest and have his arms wrapped around me and he could just hide me away from the world for a little while. he is my own personal brick wall fsdjkl a weighted blanket perhaps too,,
2 notes · View notes
miserycanary · 2 months
Text
DEFINITELY NUTS ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & model!fem!reader
synopsis: Ghost mentions you but 141 doesn't believe that he got a wife
tags: crack (well, attempted), fluff
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ghost’s strict rules for privacy are something the 141 has known for years now. He’s not the type of person to blab about his personal life and often chooses just to keep quiet. So, imagine their surprise when he suddenly says that he’s going to take a day off because his wife asked him to watch a play. 
“Price, ‘am not gonna be here tomorrow. Got a date with my missus.”
All eyes are on him, everyone stills. “WIFE? Since when?!” Soap exclaimed, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were almost bulging out his eyes. “Never told you about her?” Ghost hums, unamused by the Scottish’s exclaim. “Johnny here does have a reasonable reaction. You never tell us anything ‘bout you, mate,” Price joined, chuckling and pulling out a cigar. The man just contemplates before brushing it off and bidding farewell, leaving the group confused. 
“Ain’t no way he’s telling us the truth. That man ain’t got no bone in his body to bag someone,” Soap voiced out, looking for anyone to support his disbelief. “I mean..” Gaz whistles out, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head as if he’s agreeing to some extent. That’s when, unbeknownst to Ghost, he got the reputation of being delusional and a liar. 
Soap, still doubtful days later, watches the lieutenant with a vision like a hawk. “Hey, lieutenant.” Ghost snaps his head up, looking at him. “How was the date with your wife?” Immediately, everyone else stopped what they were doing, silently listening. It was obvious he was baiting Ghost, emphasizing the wife as if putting on quotes. They weren’t as nosy as Soap but each one of them still held a bit of doubtness that the brick wall of the team managed to get a girl, and even marry her.
“It was okay. The missus had fun,” Ghost chuckles, fondly remembering how you were beaming on the way, rambling about the plot of the play. “Can we see pictures?” Soap smirked thinking he finally got the lieutenant but was taken aback when Ghost only shrugged and pulled out his phone before freezing. “Ah, we didn’t take pictures yesterday. Said she wanted to live in the moment.” 
Soap whipped his head to signal to Gaz, seemingly saying ‘See? He’s definitely lying! How convenient he has no pictures.” 
“How about just a picture of your wife?” Kyle suggested, now invested while Price seemed to be shaking his head in the corner. “I have none with me but..” With a few clicks, Ghost holds up his phone for everyone to see. Like birds, everyone flocked around him, curious to see. For a while, everyone was surprised and sure the man was lying. I mean, he just showed them a picture of a drop-dead gorgeous model from a magazine! 
‘He's definitely lost it’ everyone seemed to think, offering pity glances at the man who had this prideful shine in his eyes. Walking up to his superior, Soap patted him on the back. “It’s fine, mate… we understand how difficult it must be.” ‘not having a lady at all’
Thinking Johnny meant about your hectic schedule, he agreed. “It’s quite tough but we make it work,” he chuckled which made everyone wince.
‘Definitely nuts!’
Weeks passed after that and the topic never got brought up, until Ghost came in with a bento in hand covered with a handkerchief with frilly ends. When asked about it, he replied, “Ah, wife’s testing out recipes for an upcoming TV show. ‘S been practicing and asked me to bring one.” Once again, he was given pity glances and even heard a defeated sigh from Soap. 
‘He’s too far gone’
“How’s work?” you ask, dazedly paying attention to the movie you guys put, more invested in burying your face in Simon’s chest while he drapes both arms on your waist, completely engulfing your torso under his muscles. “Been getting a few weird stares,” he mumbles, playing with your hair and pressing kisses on your forehead. “Why?” you peer up, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I don’ know, princess.”
Meanwhile…
“Should we just… finally set the lieutenant on a date? I feel bad. I mean, he even lied about his “wife” making him lunch,” Johnny sighed.
“Probably the best idea,” Kyle nodded.
Now Price… he knows the truth. He met you before when you dropped by, asking for Ghost— which ended horribly— but he’ll lying if he said he’s not getting a kick out of this.
Tumblr media
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: probably won't be posting for a while :] Did you guys notice the hint to my previous work? Please do. 😔
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
6K notes · View notes
deadsetobsessions · 5 months
Text
Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.
It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.
Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.
He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.
Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.
Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.
Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.
And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.
——
Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-
He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.
He’s there to protect.
Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.
Batman and Robin? They are his.
He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.
Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.
“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.
“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.
“Goth’m?”
“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”
When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-
Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.
“You-”
“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”
“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.
“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”
He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”
Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”
“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”
“Thank you… Gotham.”
Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.
Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.
4K notes · View notes
k-atsukibakugou · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
happy birthday to the man!! — katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them
pairing: bakugou x f!reader w/c: 1.5k warning/s: nsfw 18+, m! & f!masturbation; sex toys, i think that's everything notes: this is a bit short BUT i had to get something out for the man, this took me like 2 weeks to write but hopefully now i'll be out of my slump a little bit! pls enjoy c:
crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox
Tumblr media
fuck… he really doesn’t know when the lines started to blur between friend and fantasy, from wanting to hang out with you to wanting you, from talking to you about your day to being bricked up hearing your voice. yet, here he was, hot water streaming down his neck, plastering damp hair to his forehead; the water pouring over his head nowhere near enough to wash his mind of you.
he’d been plagued by you, morning to night, even in his damn dreams since he tried to find a phone charger at your place.
it’s not like he was snooping, he wasn’t trying to find that sort of thing, bakugou was only trying to find your spare charger, he’d seen you put it in one of these drawers before, how was he meant to know you left your spare chargers right below all of that?
he’d slammed the drawer shut the absolute second he realised exactly what he was staring at; the bedside drawer stuffed to the brim with bright, phallic toys, a collection of smaller, rounder vibrators, something that looked awfully similar to a gag, and he heard the telltale metal clinking of at least one pair of handcuffs against the wood when he slammed it closed. embarrassing heat crawled up his neck, burning his cheeks and setting the very tips of his ears alight. stuck in the same spot, mouth half opened dumbly, his eyebrows creased in the centre of his face, all blood rushing from his brain down to his half-hard cock already straining against his pants, the need making him ache.
every hour since that, he’d spent thinking of what your wet cunt looked like swallowing the toys; so pretty and drippy, how it looked tensing around nothing when you came from the buzzing of your vibrator, how you’d look writhing and moaning handcuffed with that gag in your mouth, how your drool would stain your shirt, sticking the fabric to your skin. god, it was just so lewd, even under the purifying water, he felt dizzy, sticky, hot, sweaty, the image of your toys burnt into his retinas, no matter what he tried to distract himself with, he always saw your toys at the forefront of his mind, the perverted imagery refusing to budge from its newfound home.
bakugou groans, a deep, rough sound drowned out by the even buzzing echoing in his ears, the sound slowly building, kicking to a new level when your whine drowns it out. you always start nearly silent in his dreams, just tiny gasps escaping your parted lips when you’d nestle the toy right against your clit. you only get louder from there, your eyebrows scrunching together like his own were, marking two little tallies in the middle, tilting upwards at the centre as you pulled your lip up between your teeth. the motion did absolutely nothing to muffle your sounds, your whimpers and moans only growing louder with every heave of your chest, every passing moment with the vibrator pressed to your pulsing clit making your hips jolt into it.
you reach between your thighs with a whine that sounds all too similar to his name torn from your lips, dipping your fingertips in your slick cunt, collecting all the cum gathering at your trembling hole without even taking a breather from humping your vibrator like your life depended on it. your movements grew jerkier and jerkier the longer the intense vibrations were held to your drooling pussy, your eyes fluttering closed with a breathless shout of his name, shaky, wet thighs squeezing around your hand, even as the vibrator slipped from your grip, falling forgotten onto the sheets beneath you, the constant stimulation growing too much for you—
“fuck.” he really couldn’t help it, his hand travelling lower down his abdomen, trailing behind droplets of water still running down his torso to his hard cock, the tip already leaking from the thought of you. wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, he squeezed once before twisting his wrist, slowly jerking his cock, wondering if you were in your shower doing the same, fucking yourself on one of your toys imagining him in its place just as he wished it was your warm cunt squeezing around his dick instead of his hand.
“katsukiii—” bakugou can feel you beside him, your figure displacing the dense steam surrounding him, a heavy, thick silicone dildo hanging from the glass wall of the shower, your figure slick and soapy from the shower, damp hair sticking to the soft skin of your neck and face when you bent at the waist, lining the tip of the plastic cock up with your drooling hole. the head of the cock would slide into your cunt all too easily in his fantasies, always greedy to watch you take more and more, inch by inch sinking onto it. your mouth falls further open the more you take of the toy, the pleasure too much for you to even hold your head up by the time your ass was pressed against the cool glass, your back arching with the tip of the dildo nestled deep inside your cunt. he wonders if the curve of it would rub on your g-spot at this angle, if it would drive you crazy grinding against the glass, whining when you can’t take it anymore.
bakugou’s head falls back thinking of you reaching for the shower head, his cock pulsing in his hand when he grips the base, his muscles tensing and relaxing while he tried desperately not to cum; the image of you playing behind his eyelids making that a near impossible task. even with his eyes squeezed shut, there you are at the forefront of his mind, switching the settings of the shower head to a concentrated stream, aimed directly at your aching clit, your broken moan jolting his hips forward into his hand, stroking the length languidly. your voice wavered, repeating his name again, the stimulation inside and outside your cunt just so overwhelming.
bracing against the tile with your spare hand, you lift yourself back off the toy, the base suctioned to the glass remaining stuck as you grew quicker in your movements, starting to bounce and roll your hips in a smooth tempo. he matches the pace of your hips with his fist, his breath coming out in nothing but deep huffs. his uneven groans were nothing compared to your sweet chorus of moans and whines, an endless symphony playing in his head of “ah-ah-ah”’s and “mmmng”’s the closer you got, your cum coating the toy just like his pre was smearing all over his fist.
he can’t help the guttural sound that escapes him next, a garbled, broken version of your name when your thighs tremble, your knees only moments away from buckling from the pure bliss; the water is still aimed at your clit, even when you can’t bounce on the dildo anymore, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you until your eyes rolled into your skull and your cum gathered in a creamy ring at the base of the toy, your ass flattening against the glass as you greedily took more of the toy, intensifying the euphoria wracking through your body. he knows your toy fills your cunt so perfectly, knows how you’d hump the air to get more and more of the water aimed at your clit, unrelenting in chasing your orgasm, jolting and jerking until your knuckles turned white against the tile wall, until your voice was so high and loud it didn’t even sound like you anymore.
he wonders if you’d ever screamed taking the fake cock, if you’d ever been so overwhelmed you squealed, your pretty cunt clenching around the toy, milking the poor plastic for everything it can’t give you, or if he’d be the first to make you cum so intensely.
“ka-aa-ki—” you can’t even spit his name out, your name the same mess on his plump lips, caught so hard between sharp teeth he worries he’ll split the thin skin. all his muscles tense, his abdomen clenching low on his stomach, the veins stretching along the underside of his cock throbbing with the need to join you in the throes of pleasure, to cover your cunt in milk white cum you desperately tried to squeeze from the silicone.
your name is a choked mantra tumbling from his lips, over and over again, dark crimson eyes rolling into the back of his skull the longer you bounced on the toy, pinching sensitive nipples between your slippery, soapy fingers, dragging your orgasm out as long as you could, as long as he would, until your knees were weak and your couldn't even manage to dumbly spit out his name anymore.
“fuck.” he damn near whines, a mess of cum covering his fingers, coating his knuckles as he kept fucking his fist through the waves of his own orgasm, shivering even with the hot water running down his body, cleaning his hand even as he continued to stroke his cock, relaxing his muscles as his toes still curled, his knuckles stark white against the tile.
his head fell forward onto the cooling tile, a temporary relief for the haziness swirling around in the steam.
shit, how was he meant to look you in the eyes after this?
Tumblr media
© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.
2K notes · View notes
alexias-putellas · 3 months
Text
between us // a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso
Tumblr media
a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso
-
you’d had a crush on alexia from the moment you’d laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.
the barcelona girls took you in as one of their own almost immediately and within a week, you felt like you’d known them forever. of course, your feelings for alexia grew and grew but your friendship with jenni had also blossomed so you decided that it was better to have alexia in your life as a friend then not at all. same with jenni. the last thing you wanted was for either of them to hate you.
since lucy and keira had pre-warned you about how affectionate the spanish could be, you never questioned how close you became with the couple as the months flew by. your teammates never said anything either so you assumed it was normal.
you never thought twice about being invited to dinners, or about the way jenni would pull you into her side during movie nights with the team. and you only lived a few doors down from alexia so her constant presence in your apartment was normal for you.
and that night was no different. music played softly in your bedroom as you held two pairs of earrings up, nudging alexia to get her attention. she quickly pointed to your go to statement earrings and you beamed, swiping your favourite necklace before heading into the en-suite. you figured it was easier to use the bathroom mirror instead of kicking alexia out of the way to use your vanity mirror.
you held your necklace out to jenni once she’d looked up from her phone, pushing herself off the sink and gently taking it from your hand. you turned around, feeling a shiver run down your spine as her fingers ran along the back of your neck, brushing your hair to the side.
jenni fastened the necklace and you thanked her softly, ignoring the way her hands slid down your arms. your eyes flickered towards your room as you put your earrings in, noticing alexia moving around.
she sat down on your bed and you swallowed thickly, eyes trained on her legs that looked even longer in the dress she was wearing.
“isn’t she pretty?” jenni’s question was a whisper in your ear and you felt yourself nodding.
“yes. ale is very pretty.” you hummed in agreement but then froze, realising what you’d said and who you’d said it to.
hearing jenni’s soft laughter didn’t make you feel any better, neither did the kiss she pressed to your burning cheek. “you should tell her.”
“what?” you laughed nervously, stepping forward and out of her grip. “why would i do that?”
she reached out for you again, grabbing your waist and pulling you back. a small huff left your lips as you hit her chest, the blush on your cheeks deepening. “i think ale should know what you think of her.”
“i–i think you are very pretty too, jenni,” you breathed, thinking jenni’s actions were due to a sense of jealousy. “not just ale. you’re both very pretty.”
your flustered state only worsened when she turned you around, hands tight on your waist. when her eyes flickered to your lips, you knew you were a goner. “puedo besarte?”
“yes. god, yes.”
jenni’s lips were on yours in an instant and you threw your arms around her neck, pulling her closer.
guilt hit you like a ton of bricks when you separated. you rubbed at your swollen lips, backing away from the spaniard silently.
you avoided alexia’s gaze as you made your way over to your wardrobe, swinging it open to reach for your favourite pair of heels. your stomach twisted. were you really going to act normal and have dinner with alexia after kissing jenni mere feet away from her?
after slipping on the shoes, you turned around, ready to beg for alexia’s forgiveness. but she was already stood there. you studied her face. she wasn’t angry. maybe she didn’t know.
“can i kiss you now?” she asked quietly and your legs felt like jelly as she reached out to rub her thumb along your bottom lip. “or does jenni get you all to herself?”
if it was any other day, you would’ve asked questions first. but jenni’s kiss still had you reeling and you didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to kiss alexia again.
so you leaned in without a second thought.
the guilt you were feeling faded but was soon replaced with confusion. with hesitation, you gently pushed alexia back. her eyebrows furrowed and you placed your hand on her chest to keep her there. doing the same with jenni when she approached.
“what is happening? what is this? a one time thing?” you asked, looking between them quickly.
you regretted asking that last question almost immediately. you were not ready to hear the answer. your heart wouldn’t be able to take a one time thing but you didn’t know if you’d have the strength to reject them if they’d said yes.
“what do you want it to be?” alexia asked, voice soft and soothing. you swallowed thickly, the anxiety swirling in your stomach.
you had no idea what to say. you wanted them, in every way possible. but if they rejected you, where would that leave you? or the team? you didn’t want to be the reason the whole thing fell apart.
“cariño?” alexia’s voice pulled you out from your head and you inhaled sharply.
“what–what if i want something more then a one time thing? something serious?” your voice trembled slightly as did your hands.
jenni reached out and gently brushed her fingers along your cheek. “we want that too.”
“really?”
“you sound surprised,” alexia smiled and you realised that the mood had shifted. “we have been flirting with you for months, did you not notice?”
jenni grinned as your blush deepened. you rolled your eyes and swatted her hand away after she pinched at your cheek.
“you two are mean,” you murmured, shouldering passed them both. alexia wrapped her arms around you and pulled you back, nuzzling your neck as you giggled quietly. “are we still going for food?”
“i am not sure, hermosa,” alexia said, resting her chin on your shoulder. “if jenni and i are so mean, why should we take you?”
you looked over at jenni but she just shrugged. you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “is this how it’s going to be? you two ganging up on me all the time?”
jenni moved to stand in front of you, gently cradling your face and rubbing her thumbs along your jaw. you noticed her glance at alexia.
“vamos, ale. i think we need to show our girl just how nice we can be.”
ᡣ𐭩
a year into the relationship, jenni and alexia were very much used to hearing you rage at your international teammates over the phone. normally, you showed your girlfriends decency and tried to keep the noise down but when your competitiveness flared, it wasn’t always doable.
“georgia, stop cheating!” you shouted, glaring at the tv screen in front of you.
“it’s mario kart mate! how can i cheat?”
“i don’t know but you are! oh my–tooney! fuck off!” you clenched your jaw as the cheers sounded over the phone, both georgia and ella managing to beat you, the self-proclaimed mario kart champion of the lioness camp. “you know what? i hate you all.”
“what did i do?” leah asked and you could hear the frown in her voice.
“guilty by association.” you told her.
“doesn’t seem fair.”
“not my problem. i demand a rematch!”
“no.” georgia and ella said simultaneously.
“uh, yes.”
“oh, please don’t start this back and forth again.” you heard niamh plead.
“not our fault she’s a sore loser.” georgia muttered and you gasped.
“i am not!” you protested, getting radio silence in response. with a scoff, you shut down the tv and the xbox before snatching your phone. “i am ignoring this phone the next time sarina calls, do you people hear me?”
“loud and clear!” ella chirped. “don’t answer it!”
in that moment you decided that, for once, you’d be the bigger person. so you ignored the jeers of your friends and hung up, muttering angrily under your breath as you made your through your apartment.
you headed into the bedroom to see alexia leaning against the headboard, looking over at you with an amused smile. “they beat you?”
“they did not beat me, they cheated.” you huffed.
“maybe you are not as good as you think you are.” jenni’s voice echoed from the en-suite and you turned around.
“if you cannot even pretend to support me, jennifer, what are we even doing here?”
jenni laughed and you huffed again, crawling next to alexia and nestling into her side. when the brunette finally joined you, you kicked at her, letting out a yelp when alexia gently pinched your thigh. “be nice, amor.”
“be nice,” you mocked her quietly under your breath. after a few seconds, you attempted to crawl out but was immediately pulled back by the blonde. “hey!”
“where are you going?” she asked, tightening her arms as you wriggled in her grip.
“i am owed a rematch.” you told her, prying at her hands.
“no.”
“no? uh, yes,” you tried to leave again but alexia quickly flipped you onto your back, laying on top of you so you couldn’t move. “aw, ale, get off!”
“no.”
“stop saying no to me,” you groaned, wrenching your arm free and reaching out for jenni. “help!”
“no!” alexia lifted her head and glared at you, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed. “it will not kill you to have an early night for once.”
“it might.” you muttered, earning yourself another pinch.
with how genuinely annoyed she sounded, you half expected alexia to shove you over to jenni but she didn’t. instead, her arms snaked around your body and she nuzzled further into you.
you pouted over at jenni and she kissed it from your lips, leaning over and flicking off the lamp. you glared into the darkness, feeling jenni press another kiss to your head.
after what felt like forever and you were sure that both jenni and alexia were asleep, you wriggled from your space between them and swiped your phone, quietly slipping out of the room.
you jumped onto the sofa and opened the lioness groupchat, typing only two words with determination flowing through your veins.
REMATCH NOW
-
…another series anyone??
872 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 7 months
Text
That's your mother, but she's my wife first…
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...
Tumblr media
Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.
Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…
Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.
In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 
They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.
This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.
“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.
 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 
You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.
Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 
“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.
 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 
Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 
Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 
His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”
Your husband, ever the general.
With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”
You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”
A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”
Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.
Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 
As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.
Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 
Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”
A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”
Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.
“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 
But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 
“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”
 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 
 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.
That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 
You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 
He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.
 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 
He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 
Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 
Huh. 
No wonder you had four kids…
You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.
  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 
You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.
 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.
You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.
“ Don’t cum yet.”
He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.
 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 
You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 
“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”
You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”
Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 
You and your mate, together for all eternity...
1K notes · View notes
aajjks · 3 months
Text
Darkest Hour: Prisioner (m)
Tumblr media
synopsis. Who was really the prisoner? Him who was behind bars? Or you? Who couldn’t even escape him, even now
pairing: yan!prisoner!jk x fem!gf reader.
warnings: YÂNDÈRÈ MÄTÜRÊ, DÄRK, öbsëssïön, STÖCKHÖLM SYNDRÖMÈ, ünhëälthy öbsëssïön, pôsessïvènèss, côntrôl, gúïlt trïppïng.
note. FEEDBACK IS NEEDED! ENJOY.
I DO NOT CONDONE THIS BEHAVIOUR IRL, THIS DOES NOT REPRESENT JUNGKOOK OR BTS IRL. DO NOT ROMANTACISE THIS BEHAVIOUR.
[GIF NOT MINE, IT BELONG TO OWNER, CREDITS TO THEM]
Tumblr media
Your heart aches looking at him, his backis facing you as he is sitting on the old dirty bed, was he blankly staring at the walls? The walls that were the same thick grey stone as the dwellings of the region,
But instead of a wide window with a flower box there was a mean barred opening with thick metal bars and no glass. The weight on your chest was heavy. As your gaze travelled further, you felt suffocated.
The prison cell was a hollow cube of concrete, one way in, no windows. In there you could have no idea how much time had passed or even if it was night or day. It was totally disorientating by design. Given enough time a person could forget their own name in there. The isolation was total and the stimulation was zero. No sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind. It was all an inmate could do to feel the cool walls, but even they were smooth.
pity, regret, guilt, frustration. The emotions embraced you like a second skin. In the time period of six months, this was your third visit. But this visit felt heavy.
This time... you had come here with a purpose. This time... without the overwhelming urge to see him.
This time with the urge to end this madness for once and all.
It was like this was written in the stars above to occur. your heart felt like someone had put thousands of bricks onto it. You were feeling guilty for what you were about to do.
This was just the weight of the guilt for your next step that would change yours and his life forever..
Maybe for the worst. This needed to be done nonetheless, you needed to overcome this incessant throb in your heart, you wanted it to stop, it wouldn’t.
But you needed to Do this for once, and all you need to end this.
And you will even though it’s not going to end so smoothly.
You knew it wouldn’t. You weren’t hoping for it. Because, after all. You were the reason why he was here in the first place.
You were reason behind your lovers imprisonment. “J-Jungkook. It’s Y/N..” your fingers wrap themselves around the metal bars, the voice from your throat barely managed to escape.
But he heard it.
The culprit turned around to look at you, and your heart skipped a beat, clenching tightly inside your chest. “Y-Y/N! M-My Princess!”
With teary eyes, you watched your lover as he jumped out of the bed and with shaking steps he came closer to the metal bars as much as he could. His long slender fingers wrapped around the bars tightly, you could only see his face barely. But the tattoos on his fingers made you recognize him. The ink on his knuckles being his only signature that could help you identify him in the dark hour.
“Y-Y/N! You’re finally here!” Hearing his voice in a tone so vulnerable made your heart break, you could tell that he was trying to hold back a sob. Jungkook tried his best to at least be able to hold your hands in his but was unable to because of the steel cuffs that held them captive, and the wall of the bars between him and you.
“Y-Yes Jungkook..” you finally look up to see him and your heart almost exploded in surprise. “Jungkook?! You’re cuffed?” To say you were surprised would sum it up. Your eyes widened to see that.
Only silence was your answer in return. Your heart was turning inside of your rib cage. You knew what this meant really well. Gripping on the rusty bars, you looked at him with your eyebrows farrowed and jaw clenched. “Y-You tried to escape,” horror took over you.
jungkook lowered his head, the darkness covering his face. You could only see his dark curly locks. “I-I just m-missed you.” Jungkooks shoulders were shaking, his voice breaking, tears falling. “Look at me jungkook...”
The crying man lifted his head up to look at you with glossy eyes and a red nose. “I-I love you Y/N.... I cant bear to live without you a-anymore. This squared box is starting to feel so suffocating... I want to be with you again Y/N... I can’t live without you..”
His words tugged at your heartstrings. The weight on your heart felt even heavier. He loved you so damn much and you were being so selfish. He killed him for you.
You were the reason.
“Y/N... there’s not a day where I do not shiver from the thoughts of you forgetting about me... or finding someone else. I cry day and night, only in your name... you’re my everything, baby.” Jungkooks gaze was holding so many unsaid emotions in them. His eyes were swimming in longing.
“I-I can’t bear to lose you.” Jungkook confessed, his voice was breaking constantly, coming closer to the bars, he cried. “I love you so damn much, princess. I can do anything to be with you.” The way he was speaking these words was starting to get passionate.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Jungkook cooed at you, while you cried softly. “No Y/N.. my sweetheart, don’t cry please..”
Seeing you like this broke Jungkooks heart into a million pieces. He wanted to see you happy always,
But with him only.
The way his heart was thumping inside of his chest made it very clear that jungkook’s plan was working. “I-I love you too Jungkook..” the way you called out his name made his eyes almost roll back to head in pleasure. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you, princess.” Jungkook had to be careful with the each word that escaped his mouth, his effect on you couldn’t falter.
He wouldn’t let it..
Waiting for your response was even more frustrating than when he was caught the day for murdering that cop, the handcuffs were the only witness for his crime, in front of you.
“Y-Yes jungkook I will... I’ll always wait for you. I love you.”
Oh... how happy just was he feeling... jungkook wanted to jump upside down. He still had you wrapped around his fingers. “My princess! Fuck I love you so fucking much... no one can love you as much as me.. didn’t I prove that to you?” His tone had transitioned from dark, gloomy to excited like a child getting his favorite food.
“My dad will get me out soon- baby just wait for me will you? I only stayed here just so I could redeem myself- my father has contacted our family’s lawyer.”
The psychotic man chuckled like a maniac. You just gave him a smile, of course- he’s connected. They practically own this country.
“Fuck,” he cursed, licking his bottom lip.
“baby I love you more than anything in this world... and you know it.” Jungkook presses his face against the bars.
You smiled at him again in way that he felt for a moment that he was at the gates of the heaven. Even he actually deserved to burn in the deep, agonizing flames of hell.
“I’ll be out soon Y/N, I promise. Wait for me...”
And you know that he will.
911 notes · View notes
kittenintheden · 3 months
Text
Ethics Review
Dave Matthews voice: I DID IT
Tav (reader) and Astarion pay his old office at the Courts a visit in the middle of the night for funsies and things get spicy.
aka it's the switchy bitchy magistrate roleplay fic
Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Pairing: Astarion/reader (Tav) Content: 18+, light BDSM elements, sexual roleplay, bitches be switches, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial, light edgeplay, oral sex, PIV sex (AFAB reader, not gendered)
AO3 Link
Tumblr media
It’s late, but then, it’s always late when you’re out with Astarion these days. By necessity, mostly, but also because it’s the best time for the pair of you to get up to your more unsavory plans without catching the watchful eye of the newly-reformed Fist.
“Where are you taking me?” you laugh as you follow him through a series of dark alleys. “This better not end with me having to send for Gale to get your hand out of another magicked jar.”
“Never going to let me live that down, are you?” He looks over his shoulder and gives you an affectionate smirk.
“Not ever.”
Astarion peers around the corner of a brown brick building, checking that the coast is clear. To you, he says, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving soul.”
“Ah, yes,” you agree, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nuzzling his neck. “Two of your most obvious and accurate qualities.”
He chuckles. “We’re almost there. Come on.”
A labyrinthine dozen alleyways later, you’re deposited in an open square, quiet and still. The cobblestones are dark with recent rain, sending their petrichor scent into the air. As you follow Astarion out into the space, you realize where you are. It’s the Courthouse District of the Lower City, where people are tried and held for petty crimes that aren’t suitable for Wyrm’s Rock.
You huff a laugh through your nose and look over at your partner with a raised eyebrow. “Did you need to tell me something? Have a court date you forgot to mention?”
“Hush,” he playfully scolds you, holding a finger up to his lips. “Let me think a moment.”
He peers up at a particular building on the square and furrows his brow, closing his eyes and moving his hands through the air. You fold your arms and watch as he moves his fingers like he’s following a path only he can see, turning corners and raising level by level. At last, he opens his eyes, and points at window on the third floor, two in from the corner.
“That one,” he says.
“That one what?” you prompt.
He grins devilishly. “That…” he points again. “... is my old office. I thought we might pay it a visit.”
“To what end?” you laugh.
“What can I say, I’m feeling a touch nostalgic these days.” He keeps his eye on the window and beckons you to follow closer to the building. “Something about my old haunts is calling to me.”
Behind where he can’t see, you pay him an affectionate smile. In the last year or so since the fall of the Nether Brain, you’ve seen the city rebuilt and gone on your fair share of adventures and quests, always searching for some way to give Astarion back the sunlight you promised him. No luck yet, but there have been promising leads here and there. It’s not a lost cause. Not yet.
The last few months in particular have seen certain changes in your lover. The terror and fear he carried for so long clung to him like a shadow, and ever so slowly it’s beginning to lift. His laugh is more present than before, more real. The intimate moments you share are filled with trust and care, even as you get more comfortable pushing a few boundaries here and there.
Most of all, he’s been remembering. Not everything. There are parts of his past forever lost to him, written over by more years of torment than he ever had of life. But there’ve been flashes every now and again of who he used to be. Some of them he likes, some he loathes. He doesn’t always talk about it, but you know being able to pick up a piece once in a while has meant a great deal to him.
So you follow along with whatever little game he has planned.
He walks along the building, scanning the brick for footholds. Just as he puts his hand on a storm drain and tenses to leap, you halt him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks back at you, you flick your eyes up toward the window.
“Three up, two in from then end?” you ask.
He nods.
“Allow me, love.”
You hold up your hand and cobalt magic pools in your palm, forming into a sphere. You send it up above you, the arcane eye floating until it finds the correct window before it slips inside. You blink, your own eyes glowing blue as you use your magic to scan the room. It’s certainly an office of some sort.
Astarion takes your hand when you hold it out for him and instantly you’re transported inside the office thanks to a handy little dimensional door spell you picked up on one of your many adventures. You wave away the arcane eye and give Astarion a wink.
He smirks and shakes his head at you. “Take all of the fun out of the thing, why don’t you,” he says through his smile. “Suppose I’ll have to make do with checking that the place isn’t alarmed. Alas.”
The place is, indeed, alarmed. Astarion manages to disarm two common magic wires and one trickier sending stone scattered throughout the room. You reach out through the Weave for any other whispers of magic. Some artifacts and lightly magical office supplies. Nothing worrisome.
Once you’re both satisfied that you won’t end up immediately arrested, Astarion moves to the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. You’re quiet as he scans the walls, turning in a slow circle as he takes everything in. His fangs flash as he gives a quiet laugh.
“The layout is different, and the color,” he says. “But yes, this is the place.” He furrows his brow slightly and holds out his hands, eyes on the floor. “I… worked here. Me. A magistrate.” His eyes find you and his smile widens. “It was a lie for so much longer than it was a reality. But it was a reality, once upon a time.”
“I’m surprised,” you say, folding your arms and nonchalantly stepping closer. “The way you spoke and dressed when we first met, I thought you must’ve been an Upper City fancy defending-the-powerful type.”
Astarion clicks his tongue at you. “Now, don’t be judgmental. That’s my job.” He waves a hand through the air. “I was quite young in my career, but I was working my way up. All the way to the third floor, thank you.”
You come in to wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Genuinely.”
He spreads his fingers over your forearm, pressing his lips to your hair. “Thank you. That’s always nice to hear.” He clears his throat and removes your arms, backing away from you with a toss of his head. “But don’t be too proud. I wasn’t exactly a… what’s the term? Model citizen.”
Astarion begins to walk around the small table with four chairs set in the center of the room.
“Oh?” you say, walking around the other side to mirror him. “Were you terribly corrupt?”
He pauses and tilts his head, shrugging. “‘Terribly’ is such a strong word, isn’t it? Lets just say I may have been known to, ah… sway the odds in my favor.”
You stop and look across the table at him. “What do magistrates even do, exactly? What did you do, specifically?”
“An absolutely stupid amount of paperwork, as I recall,” he says. “At least, I certainly remember hating every scrap that came across the desk. Meting out appropriate punishment for any minor and petty crime you can think of, most of them horrifically boring. But…” He leans over the table and holds up a finger. “... sometimes I got to conduct interviews to determine if crime was worthy of Wyrm’s Rock, and I was very good at getting the verdict I wanted.”
You rather like seeing this side of Astarion. Honest pride, confidence, and authority. The tip of your tongue runs along your bottom lip as you take in your love leaning over that table, dappled in moonlight. Gods, he’s beautiful.
“And how did you do that?” You pop your hip and raise your thumb to your mouth, teasing your lip as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “Exactly?”
Astarion notices the shift in your demeanor immediately, his own eyes going half-lidded as they track the path of your hand to your mouth. His grin goes predatory and he leans back so he can come around the table to you and pull out the chair.
“Please, darling,” he says, nodding for you to sit. “Let’s talk, you and I.”
You pay him a sultry smile and sink into the chair, which he pushes in under you. Then he walks back around to the other side with his spine straight, hands folded behind his back.
A new game begins.
Astarion rolls out his shoulders as if he’s shedding a coat. When he turns to look at you, he does so down the length of his nose, his hard gaze making it clear that he thinks you beneath him.
You shiver as a thrill runs down your back and attempt to hide it.
He shakes his head above you, tutting. You’ve disappointed him.
Instinctively, you shrink into your chair slightly as he leans forward and places the tips of his fingers against the table in front of him, continuing to lower his face until it’s a mere foot from yours.
“A pathetic display back there,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “Your associates have hung you out to dry. You do know that…” He tilts his head. “... don’t you?”
You swallow the lump in your throat and drop your eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Silly little patsy,” he chides as he straightens to glare down at you again. “Such stars in your eyes for friends who would sooner see you burn than stick their necks out for you.”
“I’m not telling you anything,” you say, raising your eyes to him in defiance even as you let a waver of nerves shake your voice.
“What must it be like to be so tragically misguided?” he sneers. It’s like an echo of a man you once knew. One you met on a sunny beach amid burning wreckage.
You blink up at him, eyes going soft. “I can’t betray them.”
“Betray them,” he breathes, huffing a mirthless laugh as he leans one hand onto a nearby chair. “My dear, they are in the next room, and the room after that, giving you up as we speak. No loyalty among thieves, I fear.”
“No,” you gasp. “They wouldn’t.”
Astarion holds a finger up to his lips, shushing you. “I think you know better than that. But fine, have it your way. Don’t give them up to save your own hide. Let me sweeten the pot.”
He turns his body so he can side-sit on the table and put his first knuckle under your chin, lifting it so he can inspect you. The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Gold to line your pockets, perhaps?”
Though you try to stop it, your body betrays you as a bright blush blooms across your nose and cheeks. Astarion’s pupils dilate above you.
“Or something else entirely?” he whispers, tilting his mouth closer to yours. “I’d much sooner send those two cads to Wyrm’s Rock in your place. Help me, and maybe you and I could have a bit of…” His eyes trail down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and beyond before he looks back into your eyes. “... fun in celebration.”
“Why would you do that for me?” you whisper back.
He shrugs. “What can I say? I rather like you. Plus, I might get a little kickback in the form of a promotion for bringing in two thorns in the Fist’s side, but that’s neither here nor there.” He rolls his eyes and pays you a flirtatious smile on the last bit.
And that… is your opening.
Your expression grows serious and you note the moment that Astarion’s eyebrows give the briefest twitch of concern.
"You've overplayed your hand, Magistrate Ancunín," you say.
Astarion draws his hand back and gives you a perplexed look. “Have I?”
You smile, then. Calm and dangerous. "I've been sent by the Board of Ethics, you see."
Astarion is thrown by this turn, but he recovers quickly, offering a simpering smile. "Oh? Oh, dear. Seems I've been caught with my pants down."
You stand, holding his eye. "Indeed. Best go place your hands on the desk where I can see them."
With a flourish, he holds his hands up for you to see. No funny business, none at all. He goes to the desk and spreads his palms flat against the polished wood. He must feel the heat of your skin as you come close, only inches away. Inspecting. Considering.
You lean in close to his ear. "Say our word if you'd like me to stop, Ancunín," you whisper.
"Stop what?" he asks.
In answer, you grab his hips and pull them flush against your own with enough force that he gasps from it, genuinely surprised. In his ear again, you whisper, "Teaching you a lesson."
You release him and move to his side. He turns his head to look at you and you can see the openmouthed surprise in his face, but it’s more than that. Surprised, yes, but also open. Interested. Very turned on. You know this look.
This is Astarion’s “oh, we’re doing that thing I like?” look. It’s a good look on him.
You tap a finger on his nearest hand. “Keep these exactly where they are. I must warn you that you face serious repercussions for witness tampering. I have some questions. Answer them to my satisfaction, and I may consider…” Your gaze trails down to the front of his trousers, which are straining. When you meet his eye again, you add, “... reinstatement.”
Astarion tilts his chin down so he can give you a heated look. “Then by all means,” he says, lips parted. “Ask.”
“Hm,” you hum as you trail your fingers over the desk as you walk around to the other side. You mimic his stance with your hands on the table, though yours is one of authority while his is one of awaiting judgment. He tilts his head at you in question, gaze hot. You match it.
“Let’s start with an easy one.” You tilt your head toward the wall without breaking eye contact. “That placard hanging there. What is it?”
He looks and then huffs through his nose. “It’s an oath.”
You tilt your head the other way. “And what does it say?”
Astarion smirks. “‘As an officer of the Court, I will strive to conduct myself at all times with integrity, dignity, and honor.’”
“That’s right,” you say, nodding. “Now tell me, Ancunín… do you feel you’ve conducted yourself in accordance with that oath?”
“Of course,” he answers without hesitation, flashing you a winning smile. “I offered you the utmost dignity and honor, did I not?”
An idea occurs to you and you imagine he catches the twinkle in your eye as you raise one of your hands to click your fingers, a glowing web of pale blue stretching to cage you both inside. Astarion frowns up at it. The moment he realizes what you’ve done, he gives you a look that’s half-exasperated and half-devious.
“What’s this?” he says, playing along.
“A little insurance policy. To ensure your adherence to honesty.” You reach to the collar of your shirt and undo one button. Then another.
Then another.
Astarion struggles to keep his eyes on your face, but when you lean back down onto the table, he can’t help but sneak a peek.
You toy with another button. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about dignity now?”
Astarion bites the corner of his lip to keep his expression serious. He keeps his eyes trained on your chest and seems to carefully consider his words before he says, “I maintain that I respect the dignity of your tits.”
That’s not what he meant to say. He blinks. His eyes flick up to yours. “Your position,” he amends.
His eyes flick back down. “Your position and your tits.”
“Ah,” you say. “Yes, I thought that might be the case. That you might be… what do they say? Dipping your wick in the law office wax.”
You stand and come back around to his side, maintaining your spell as you do. Astarion tracks you all the way back around.
“I’d like you to be as honest with me as you can be,” you say softly. “Not that you’ve much choice. So, in that case, here’s some extra… motivation.”
You’re behind him now and you hear his sharp intake of breath when he feels your palms spread over either side of his hips before moving around to the ties at the front of his trousers. You loosen them just enough to give you space.
Astarion’s knuckles are going white where he presses his fingers against the desk.
Your fingers are soft and warm against his lower abdomen as they dip below his waistband, then inside his underthings. You find what you seek and grip it firmly, fisting the length of him. He bites back a groan and flexes his hands against the wood as you draw him out into the open air. 
“You do keep it cool in here,” you whisper into his ear. You keep your touch light as you tease his cock, just enough to make him want but not nearly enough to satiate the need. “Why is that?”
Astarion swallows and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “A little discomfort loosens the tongue, I find.” He struggles to keep the breathiness out of his voice and very nearly succeeds. 
Nearly. 
Your smile is wicked. “I see. Well.”
You rest his hardened length against the varnished wood of the desk. It’s cool on his touch-warmed skin and he whines lightly as you leave him there to walk around to his other side, fingertips drawing a trail across his broad back and shoulders.
“In that case, we’ll be leaving that…” You glance down at his cock, then back at his face. “… out in the cold until you’ve answered my questions to my satisfaction. Understood?”
He takes a deep breath through his nose and meets your eye. “Completely.”
“Good.” You move one of his misplaced curls back into place. “If I’m satisfied, I just might let you warm it up again. We shall see.”
“Indeed we shall,” he says, voice dropping deeper, and you can sense the challenge there. You smile as you turn away from him.
“Let’s try again,” you say. “Do you make a habit of lying to your interviewees in hopes of manipulating a confession?”
“Is ‘lying’ the word we want to use?” he says with a lilt.
“Yes.” You turn back to look at him.
He clears his throat, chewing his tongue to hide another smile before he looks away. He thinks a moment, then says, “I occasionally massage my message to pave the way for a more fruitful discussion in my favor, yes. Only in the interest of this office and my personal satisfaction.” He smirks at you, clearly pleased with himself.
You shake your head. “My, my. And just when I thought we were getting somewhere. Perhaps you need a reminder that I hold your immediate future in my hands?”
When you move back in and loosen his trousers still further to shove down his hips and below his arse, he wriggles to help. He seems to think he’s won this phase of the game. Adorable.
Rather than give him any relief, you reach out to the desk and pick up a wooden ruler, thin and flexible. Astarion opens his mouth, presumably to ask what you’re doing, but doesn’t get the chance as you use the flat of the ruler to give him a quick smack on his bare arse. 
He cries out in surprise and looks around at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him the opportunity to call his out. Instead, you watch his eyes darken. He’s still in. Which is good, because gods above if you aren’t beginning to make a mess of your underwear already.
“Do you understand your situation?” you ask.
“Maybe you ought to remind me again,” he rumbles.
You do, leaving another slap on his pale skin. A shiver travels up his back from the base of his spine all the way up.
“I understand,” he says.
“Very good,” you say. “Do you manipulate the outcomes of your interviews?”
“Sometimes, yes,” he says quietly, peering up at you from under his brows.
“Thank you for your honesty. With bribery?”
He nods.
You bend forward so you’re eye-to-eye. “And do you frequently offer favors of a sexual nature?”
Astarion’s gaze drops to your mouth and he blinks heavily. “That’s only for when I see someone I like,” he says.
There’s another slap to his arse, quick as reflex, and he gives a small, broken “a-ah” as he drops his head. He spoke the truth, your spell ensures that, but you want him to be more specific. You look down to see he’s subtly grinding himself against the desk, his cock beginning to weep pre-fluid as you watch.
You place the ruler against his back to hold him in place. “None of that,” you say. “Not until you clarify. Why me?”
He groans in frustration. “Because I like you. Because I’m attracted to you. Because I want to be inside you and fuck and fuck and fuck until we’re both hoarse from crying our ecstasy.”
Well. The pair of underwear you’re wearing are officially done for, you fear.
“What a wicked tongue you have,” you breathe, not quite able to keep up your aura of authority. You swallow and add, “Perhaps I’ll consider letting you off with a warning if we can figure out a better use for it.”
Astarion goes to his knees so quickly it makes your head spin. You don’t hesitate to take care of the bindings on your own trousers and he’s eager to help, shoving your clothing to the floor. You’re trying to remove a boot when he presses his face into the crux of your legs and runs his tongue along the seam of you so hotly that you nearly fall over. You lean down and give him another half-hearted smack. All it does is elicit a groan against your most sensitive of places.
With some struggle, you manage to remove the boot, kick your trousers and underthings off of one leg, and hop up to sit on the desk, Astarion follows you along, refusing to let you leave him now that he’s on you. His mouth works against you on its own, tongue lapping firmly at the edges of your cunt, flushing you and making you swell. He hasn’t even touched your clit yet and you know you’re already slick with desire.
You’re so momentarily distracted that you almost miss where his hands have gone.
Chest heaving, you weakly wave to dismiss your Zone of Truth and call up your mage hand, sending it down where you can’t reach to grab the wrist of the hand Astarion’s using to pump his cock while he licks at you.
“I don’t think so,” you gasp. “Still on… probation.”
You’re losing the thread and you’re perfectly okay with it.
Astarion growls in response and comes up higher on his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you tight against his face. His tongue finally finds your center and he rolls it against your entrance, plying the place just inside that makes you go flush with arousal, your clit swelling further. Then he finally pays it attention with a light draw followed by firm circles, teasing until you feel sparkles of arcane energy tingling at your fingertips and zaps of pleasure shoot through your core.
He holds you so tight to him that there’s no escape from the assault of pleasure he’s waging on your body. All too soon, you’re whimpering as you approach your peak.
And Astarion simply stops. He leaves you there, right before the edge, and you cry out in dismay and frustration. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s on his feet and pulling you onto yours, spinning you around until your hips are pressed to the edge of the dark wood. You can feel his rock hard length against the cleft of your arse, feel the wetness at the tip of him against your lower back.
“You’ve overplayed your hand this time, I think,” he pants into your ear. “Let your guard down. What member of the Board of Ethics accepts bribes?”
When you try to wriggle free, you feel his fingers at your wrists. He takes your hands and spreads them on the desk as you’d done to him, bending you over. His hips draw back and then return and you feel his hardness drag over your folds from behind, teasing but not quite putting pressure on your clit.
His breathing is heavy, but through it, he manages, “This time, you tell me the truth. Why did you meet with me?”
“To catch you out,” you gasp. “Your behavior has been… unethical.”
“Is it unethical to recognize when someone wants your cock?” he whispers, sending a tingle over your shoulders. “Is it against my oath to offer?”
“That’s not… I didn’t…”
The head of his cock nudges your clit and you both hiss through your teeth. He pulls back until he catches at your entrance, pushing in just barely. Just enough to begin to feel him, but nowhere near enough of him. Instinctively you arch your back harder, trying to take more, but he won’t let you.
“Beg me,” he growls in your ear. “Beg me for my cock. Tell me it’s why you came here.”
Your very last thread of remaining restraint is pulled to its absolute limit, but it doesn’t break quite yet. “I came here on orders to uncover a magistrate with loose morals,” you manage.
Astarion reaches a hand up to the hair at the back of your head, grabs a handful, and gently pulls to bend your head back. Directly into your ear, he whispers, “You’ve found him. Now beg for it.”
In the quiver of his voice, you can hear that he’s the one begging you.
So you give in.
“I came here for you,” you whisper back. “Please, let me. Let me take your cock.”
His breath shudders out of him. “Take it you shall.”
Astarion thrusts his hips forward, burying himself in you, and you hardly have time to so much as gasp before he sets a punishing rhythm, one arm around your waist to hold you in place and the other one still tangled up in your hair. You arch deeply, giving him as much access as you can, and he pounds into you relentlessly. On the outskirts of your awareness, you feel bruises beginning to form on your hipbones from where they repeatedly hit the desk.
You don’t care one whit.
He keeps you bent over the desk, your palms spread to keep you both upright as he fucks you hard, his moans trapped behind his clenched teeth. As you fly full speed back to your edge, he removes the hand from your head and absently places it over your mouth to muffle your own escalating cries.
The coil of your climax tightens and Astarion begins to mutter a steady mantra of “yes, yes, yes, gods, yes” beside your ear. He presses himself all the way to the hilt and rocks, the base of him stretching you just right and his balls pressed firm to your clit and there, oh there, it’s right-
You scream behind Astarion’s palm as you come, the delicious tension boiling and spilling over as contractions roll through you, pleasure washing over your body with every heartbeat. You nearly blank out for a second and when you blink back down, your lover continues to pump into you as he chases his own end.
With a shaking hand, you call up your mage hand from where it shimmers nearby and press it to his chest, pushing back with soft pressure.
“No,” Astarion whines, attempting one or two more thrusts before you back him up. “No, please, please, I didn’t finish, I-”
You turn, bottomless and eyes full of fuck and revenge, and add your own hands to the mix, all three pushing him back until he hits the deposition table, going flat on his back. You crawl up over him and straddle him, up on your knees just out of reach.
You look down upon him, beautiful and fucked out in the moonlight. “Do you regret any of it?” you say.
“I’m regretting a lot of my decisions at the moment,” he snarks. His lips part as he breathes.
With a smile, you roll your hips just enough to catch the head of his cock back at your opening. “Do you regret any of it?” you repeat.
He pants, looking up at you. Then he reaches up to grip the front of your shirt and pull you down over him in a searing kiss. When you break, he whispers, “No. Not a moment. It brought me to you.”
You roll back, sinking down onto him. He gasps and throws his arms around you, helping you get back into rhythm, and he’s so close that it’s barely any time at all before he arches his back clear up off the table and groans as he spills inside of you, the relief painted across every inch of his face. He comes for nearly a minute, twitching and humming beneath you until he finally relaxes into a boneless heap.
When he next opens his eyes, you lean down and catch him in another kiss.
The pair of you have barely redressed and cast a few prestidigitation cantrips as a courtesy before there’s a sound somewhere down the hall. Footsteps. Coming closer.
“Shit,” Astarion whispers, startled. He grabs your hand and spins you both into a dim corner of the room before you both cast Invisibility. Just in the nick of time, it appears, because there’s a jangle of keys and then a harried-looking halfling comes bustling into the room, dark bags under their eyes.
They grumble to themselves for a moment, going to a box to sort through files. They don’t find what they’re looking for and move on to the desk. Once there, they open a drawer, then wrinkle their nose.
“Bleeding hells, it smells like sex in here,” they grumble. “Gonna tell Jackobson that Cole has been using his office again. Teach that arsehole for making me come fetch the file he forgot.”
The halfling pulls a file from the drawer, slams it, and exits the room.
Neither of you move for the rest of the minute your invisibility lasts. As soon as the cloaking spell fades, you both collapse to the floor in quiet giggles. You kiss Astarion through your laughter, again and again.
It’s nice to see this side of him.
801 notes · View notes
amaranthineghost · 3 months
Text
BUT I LOVE YOU SO (PLEASE LET ME GO) ( lando norris. )
he loved her, but knew he had to let her go even if it killed him inside. still he left a paper trail back to him.
warnings: heavy angst I suppose
authors note: wrote this with 2 am motivation. it was about time I finally gave you guys some writing after a couple of months of an absence (I sincerely apologize). I was thinking of making this one of the parts of the mini series because it sort of fits what I want to do with it, but i figured since i hadn't put anything out in a while, it'd be its own separate thing <3
part 2 found here
Tumblr media
HE LOVED HER with every fiber of his being. every cell in his body lived for her, he told himself. the blood that ran through his veins underneath his tan skin, all the way to his heart that he had so carefully carved to be able to beat for her. she was the center of his life, he thought.
he really thought.
because now, as he sat and watched her through the fingers over his face to hide the incoming tears, he wished he knew what he should've done. because he only knew what to do.
to let her go.
surely, it wasn't easy, it was never going to be. but alas it was inevitable for the lovers to part though at the time, they wished for it to be only shortly.  but they were never coming back. they didn't want to believe, but their hearts knew.
it was a long time coming, but nothing could've prepared them for the heartbreak they forced upon themselves. it was like running blindly into the brick wall they had built together.
they didn't ever fight though. that was the one thing they took pride for their relationship, but now they realize it would've been better for petty arguments. because now, they realize they just don't work.
he was social, she was a homebody. he loved the night life, jumping between different clubs across cities he'd drag her to. of course, at the time she didn't mind being pulled into a club every so often, but it wasn't her scene. the media never was.
he knew that. she knew that it was his.
her hands shook with every folded article of clothing, occasionally wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she tried to avoid his figure altogether.
it wasn't like she didn't want him, in fact she needed him. but the relationship was doomed from the start, she knew yet she didn't care because at the time, everything was tunnel-visioned and he was the light at it's end. 
her best moments were the ones lived with him, yet also the worst ones too. but she didn't regret it, it shaped them for their future. one where they knew they couldn't be by each other's side.
they knew heartbreak was looming over them, though the possibility of severing their relationship at any given moment didn't dawn on them till blood was pouring out the wound and there was nothing they could do to stop the bleeding.
they wouldn't try to, they knew better than to patch a wound that would never heal. they let it bleed onto the cold floors of their apartment. the one she had to leave.
nothing had happened in the way they had wanted, but when would it ever if everything was always working against them? it was the world versus them and they lost.
they accepted that defeat.
she tried her best to keep her composure as she packed, for whatever thin thread they held onto would snap if she broke down. because they both knew he couldn't leave her if she did, wouldn't let her go.
because she knew he'd give up his career, his dream, in a heartbeat if it had meant he could still hold her at night. he said forever, and he would make it happen.
it sent her over the edge, reliving their relationship as her fingertips creased memories and packed them into a suitcase, each item of clothing holding significance from their relationship. all from the beginning, she'd kept everything, and that wouldn't change.
she broke. she recognized the textures beneath her fingertips before she could look, her favorite dress. her favorite dress that he bought for her for their anniversary. she knew it was over.
as soon as the choked sobs left her lips, the armchair he sat on creaked as he simply stood and walked to console her. his arms wrapped around her shoulders as the warmth of his chest spread across her back, which did nothing but break her heart more.
she pressed her lips against his skin, though not in an intimate manner, but to hide her struggled cries as the tears down her cheeks began to stain his skin with mascara. she gripped his forearm and bicep tightly, leaning her head further against him.
" 'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin, sniffling as she struggled to catch a breath between sobs. she clenched her eyes shut, seeing dizzying shapes underneath her eyelids. she hoped it would stop the tears.
"shh," he shushed as his lips kissed her hair, muffling his words, "i should be sorry."
still he spoke ever so softly to her as the day they'd met and she couldn't help but fold for his tone of voice every time. even when she knew she shouldn't.
" you have nothing to be sorry for, lan..." 
"i should've know the media would be too much for you, love." he mumbled against her hair, "i have everything to be sorry for."
"but i handled it." she peeled his arm from her skin, the streaks of black mascara almost making her lips twitch into a smile as it brought back memories. memories of crying-laughing and smearing mascara onto his arms. still, she held his wrist as she turned to face him, yet she didn't step back.
it'd be the last time they would be this close.
but part of him didn't want her to turn around. he loved when her makeup ran down her face as she cried tears of joy, with the bright sun shining down on her, acting as her personal spotlight, because she was the center of attention, with the wind blowing her hair.
he wished he could see her like that one more time before they left for good. because now he stood, resisting the urge to wipe the tears off her face. because now it wasn't happy, it was sullen. he wanted everything to be able to take care of her, to not let her leave. not yet.
he sighed, he had to give in. he always would, he couldn't help himself when he smudged the running mascara off her face, "fuck, that never works, does it?" he muttered in a soft panic as he realized he just made more of a mess.
she chuckled. she loved whenever he lightened the mood, intentionally or not, it was something she could always count on him to do, "every time, lando, every time." she replied through soft chuckles, sighing as she calmed.
he became serious once again as the smile slowly fell from his face and he wiped the black from his fingers, "but really, did you handle it?" he asked lowly, looking down at her with the same, soft look on his face she could always count on, "i know the media really affected you."
she sighed. there was no denying the exhaustion the media and paparazzi caused. they thought they were fine in the bubble of their apartment, but that bubble had long popped.
"you were born to shine, lando." she simply responded to not give him the truth he was expecting to hear, "that's just not me, we both know it."
"i know." he whispered, biting his lip and looking at her with a gloomy expression. he felt regret and guilt, " 'm sorry."
she shook her head, raising her hand to his jaw to trace the bone under his skin, “i know, but we're both at fault here. we should've known it wouldn't've worked out."
it hurt for them to hear, but it needed to be said, and he would've never said it. it was the truth.
she sniffled, backing away with the realization of how close they had become as she wiped away stray tears and turned back to the half-packed suitcase on the bed they once shared.
he watched her face as her eyes scanned the still heaps of clothing left for her to take, and boxes needing to be filled, "do you want some help?" he offered, his hand grabbing the back of her arm, caressing the skin as she jumped slightly at the contact.
she sighed and said through an awkward chuckle, "please," she reached again for clothes to resume her packing, " 'm afraid i'll change my mind if i stay too much longer."
her words hurt, like daggers slicing through his skin. another wound they couldn't heal.
"would it be that bad?"
his response hurt more. she hadn't meant it like that, but words were subjective. it was like he had taken the knife from beneath his flesh and twisted back into hers.
"no, lan, i didn't mean it like that-" she dropped the shirt she held to place a hand on his bicep, which he shrugged off.
" 'ts fine," he spoke without a tone in his voice, which was odd for him. His focus was on her clothes in his hands and somewhat neatly packed away into one of her many suitcases.
"but i just meant-"
"listen, 'ts fine, we aren't together anymore so we don't have to fix things, or try to."
she squirmed under the dagger as it twisted deeper into her flesh. the air was tense, too silent for her liking and his new attitude threw her off.
it made her realize that maybe there was something more to them that didn't work. because surely any two people who loved each other would make it work out.
it didn't make sense though. maybe it never would.
after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence between them where the only sound was folding of cloth and zipping up certain spots in her suitcase, he turned his back and left the room.
she watched him leave from the corner of her eye, but she didn't stop him. she wanted to though. she wanted so desperately to grab him by the arm and force him to talk to her, but she wouldn't. he was right. they weren't dating.
besides they couldn't even fix what they had before.
minutes later he reemerged with a hand stuffed in his hoodie pocket and another behind his back with something he hid from her. she couldn't get a peak before he slipped it into one of the boxes. she shrugged it off as something she had forgotten.
he returned to helping her fold, but this time with his back towards her. it pained her, she didn't want him to turn his back on her, yet in a couple of hours, she would walk through their apartment door, her back turned to him. it was unfair, she knew.
the tears this time were silent as they streamed down her face, but she didn't make a sound. she watched his actions for a solid five minutes, seeing his best attempts folding her clothes, for her. he was never the best at it, as she had poked fun at him for it in the past. it hurt to think she would never see the difference of neatness in her closet anymore.
her attention was piqued  when she saw his movement halt, quickly resuming with a messily put-together hoodie, one she didn't recognize to be hers.
she didn't get to look before he flipped back the top and zipped it up to go with the others.
she didn't have time to wipe the fresh tears from her face when he turned around after pulling the suitcase from the bed. he paused, dropping the handle.
in a swift motion, he pulled her into his chest. she couldn't stop herself from breaking down in his arms, his hand wrapped around her head, the other around her back. they stayed silent, apart from her sobs into his shirt. he didn't care if she ended up staining it.
they swayed for a while, longer than they should've, but at least now she had calmed down. though tears still streaming down her face and a headache forming in her head, they pulled apart slightly.
her hair was messy, her nose, cheeks, eyes and lips were red, her eyes were puffy and tears stained her face, but she was still prettier than ever.
he couldn't help but tuck the hair in front of her face behind her ear, his hand resting on her jaw.
for the last time, they kissed.
to him, it was like he was taking his last breath of air, or gulp of water for the rest of his life. he was taking what he could.
the taste of her salty tears, the wetness from her cheeks now on his, the hands in her messy hair pushing her desperately closer because he didn't want to let her go.
they sighed when they parted, his teeth grazing her bottom lip at a desperate attempt for more. more time.
they both stepped back, staying silent once again. they didn't have anything to say because their actions said it all. he stepped back to the suitcase he dropped and started moving them out to her car, which had considerably more trunk space than any of his.
it felt like when she was first moving out for college, with stacks of boxes and plenty of suitcases to make it seem like she was fleeing the country.
it all ended the second she walked out the door, but she didn't have to turn her back on him as he walked her to her car, opening the door.
one last hug between them. the last contact.
but they still followed each other's lives.
she would watch his races from the comfort of her new living room couch because she still worried about him the same amount from when they were dating. she noticed his suffering performance, though she sighed every time he crossed the finish line unscathed.
part of him knew she was watching for him.
he still followed her private accounts, liking the posts of the lifestyle that he could never live. it just wasn't his to experience, just like his was never hers to live either. most nights spent drunk in the dj booth, or out to dinner with other drivers, the social life had never been her scene.
he knew.
he knew all along that it was never going to end as they wished in the moment. they stared at their future without fully knowing what was waiting, yet they didn't step down.
months had passed. their lives were supposed to have gotten better, but they could both see they were both suffering.
boxes still unpacked from when she first left, she had never gotten around to fully moving in. still suitcases and cardboard boxes laid around the kitchen of her new apartment.
she felt like she should open them, like she needed to. if not now, would she ever?
boxes full of old memories from her childhood, or stuffed animals she had always convinced lando to buy for her. until there was one box left untouched. she hadn't remembered packing this one.
carefully, she sliced the tape and pulled back the cardboard. she was speechless.
his race helmet. his race helmet he dedicated to her.
dedicated for the anniversary of the day they met. for the race of the country where their eyes first found each other.
it had details about her. her favorite colors, places, things. it had her name, big enough to see from a while away.
he loved this helmet. and he gave it to her.
all she could do now was hug the last remainder of him and cry. she wasn't sure if letting him go was the right or wrong decision, but it felt wrong to question it now.
when she pulled away from the helmet and sniffling her nose, she noticed a piece of paper lodged into the visor. carefully, she pulled it out, unfolding it to see the familiar and horrible handwriting of lando norris.
she was lucky she learned to read it over the years or she would've been screwed.
blue suitcase. for when you're ready.
out of all of the suitcases she had taken, only one was blue. the one he had packed.
she hastily picked herself off the floor, carefully setting the helmet down on the kitchen counter before dropping back down on her knees and desperately unzipped it.
she tossed through every pocket and article of clothing packed into the suitcase, inspecting every single item. until she found it.
of course, he had given her one of his hoodies, but it was not just any of his hoodies. once again, a favorite of his he wore regularly. he gave it to her. it smelled like him still. curse him for spraying cologne on it.
she felt the fabric beneath her fingertips before slipping it on. a smile crept onto her lips as she went and sat back down on her couch, the TV had been playing FP3 in the background before quali in a couple hours time.
she pulled her blanket back over her, slipping her hands into the pockets. her brows furrowed when she felt yet another piece of paper, pulling it out to reveal even more horrendous handwriting from her beloved racer.
will let me know you're watching?
any day now love.
when the nights get lonely, i'll be waiting.
whenever you're ready.
i miss you, i'm sorry
ynusername
Tumblr media
liked by landonorris and 4037 others
ynusername I don't know if i'm ready for this...
comments have been disabled...
-
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
811 notes · View notes
hidden-poet · 3 months
Text
Commander Snow; chapter 5
Tumblr media
Commander Snow
Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.
Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.
Editor: @hotline-to-hell
chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Chapter five
Chapter six
Tumblr media
Commander Snow had been absent from your life for three days. 
He had left boxes of food in anticipation but expected no reward in return. He didn’t turn up at the late hours of the night. No demands of you coming to the Compound with brownies were given.
It was a welcome change in your routine. It gave you more time to focus on your mother. She improved greatly with the extra attention and could be dropped down to half a bottle of morphling every 12 hours. 
She still needed your help to rise from bed and wash but was now lucid enough to feel like your mother again. 
You felt less isolated now that she was back. And with Edmund dropping by every day you felt almost normal. 
You gave him the spare bottles of morphling to sell. Commander Snow would drop you quickly and it was important to have some money saved to tide you over until you got your job back.
You decided to use a small portion to buy your mother fresh bandages. She would only need one more batch before the wounds on her back were closed.
The walk into town was busy but no one paid you any mind. Most avoided looking at you. 
You were used to the isolation now. It didn’t bother you as much now. 
The nice day turns upon seeing Peacekeepers in large groups marching through the streets. 
You stop walking to let people pass as they rush towards you. Peacekeepers formed groups as
you looked around, they were impossible to count. They moved too fast in and out of houses, and as you lost one, two more appeared in his absence. 
You freeze seeing Commander Snow, marching through the streets with the cavalry behind him. They break down doors to people's homes and the Peacekeepers split up into groups of four as they search the houses before rejoining the group. 
It was chaos as people ran to avoid their way. Demands of the Peacekeepers were yelled over crying children, and explanations of homeowners. You feel your heart pound at the scene. 
Such chaos always brought danger. Agitated Peacekeepers after a hard day's work are always looking for a reason to use their power over the district people. 
You press yourself against a side of a building, out of rushing people's way. You try and re-enter the stream of people but a breck never comes. More yelling is heard and you suddenly see why the rush was heading down stream. A large group of Peacekeepers all kitted up in their gear with vests and helmets come chasing the people. They grab who they can and throw them up against brick walls searching them for contraband. 
The coins burned a hole in your pocket. If found there is little chance of retaining them. 
They come closer and you try again to follow the rush but are pushed back. Somebody needed to be caught by the Peacekeepers. 
You scan the area for another escape route and see the tunnel that leads to the Capitol train route. Peacekeepers and higher officials were sure to be swarming on the other side but you could hide in the darkness that the tunnel provided until the chaos settled, 
The leader of the group blew a whistle and you took off to your path before you could figure out what it meant. 
Unfortunately, a Peacekeeper had already set his eyes on you. And watching you run and hide was a worthy enough cause to follow you. 
You barely make it into the darkness before you are caught and thrown into the wall. 
“Do you have any weapons or contraband on you?” The Peacekeeper shouted. 
He had brought along his partner who held his rifle out towards you. 
“No sir,” you answer, but he runs his hands along you anyway. He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the hard, dirty wall while the other patted down.
With your forced position, you stare at the other Peacekeeper. The uniform aged him. His face was soft and round but hidden under the shadow of the large helmet. He had beautiful green eyes that went wide just as the Peacekeeper was about to pat the pocket that held your money. 
‘Whoa!” The other Peacekeeper places a hand on his friend's shoulders and pushes him back. “That’s Snow’s girl. I’ve seen her at the Compound.”
“Are you sure?” The hand that held you was released quickly. 
He looks at you again, “I am pretty sure.”
“I am!’’
 Maybe some good could come out of your predicament. 
“Go get him. He could want her searched anyway.”
“There’s no need to go get him. I’ll go home.” You turn so you can be heard.
“Shut up.” The Peacekeeper ordered. 
Green eyes took off back down the street, leaving you with his harsher friend. 
He unclips his cuffs and locks them around your wrists, telling you to sit on the ground. 
You knew better than to argue with Peacekeepers, so you sat and waited. 
Five minutes pass in silence. 
You hoped his business would be more pressing and he would send the Peacekeeper away with instructions to set you free. But you could see his shadow coming closer as you had the thought. 
If it wasn’t for his darker uniform you would have thought he was just another Peacekeeper, and not Commander of District 12.
His eyes hit you on the ground before going up to his officer. 
“The south exit is blocked, go help the others there. Search the people.” 
They both leave with a ‘yes sir’, and a salute. 
He moves quickly as they integrate back into the crowd.
He pulls you up, hooking your cuffed hands over his neck, and presses you up against the brick wall. His hands go under your arms and cement themselves to the wall behind, keeping them pinned up on his shoulders. He keeps his body close to hinder your movement and rests his left knee against the brick. 
He kisses you so fast, you weren’t sure if he managed to pin you before or after. His kisses are fast and hard, you don’t manage to even attempt one back before he is moving again. 
His greedy lips go to your throat, placing big kisses up and down it. 
“What are you doing here?” He asks between kisses. You couldn’t tell him about the money. He was sure to demand it from you. 
“Walking,” you push back on his shoulders but it invites him closer. 
His lips go from just under your ear back down to the hollow of your throat. 
“You shouldn’t. It’s dangerous.” 
The danger followed him, not you. You had walked these streets a hundred times before without any worry. 
He finds the spot he likes, just where your collarbone and neck meet, and begins to bite down. You wiggle underneath him to no avail. The biting upon your neck hurt but he seemed deaf to your pleas. You felt only a Peacekeeper beneath you, no sign of a man you could reason with. Your head only knocked against his hard helmet, you pushed yourself up on arms covered with the soft material of the peacekeeper uniform. Even your eyesight was blocked by the Peacekeeper's rifle slung over his shoulder. 
You were in no better of a position than the people in the houses. You were offered the same situation; let them take what they wanted or suffer the consequences of them just taking it anyway. 
“I’ve missed you,” he admits, “Why did you never come to see me?” 
You let your head rest back against the wall now that it wasn’t tossing and turning to alleviate the pressure of his bites. 
The truth was not an acceptable answer. You couldn’t tell him you had no interest in seeing him ever again.
“You were busy,” you tried. 
“You could have come. I would have seen you.” He goes back to your neck. His kissing was slow and lazy
“Commander, please.” You could still hear the commotion outside. 
A whooping sound is heard from outside the ally. 
He pulls his head back in its direction. 
“What did they find?” you ask. 
“Rebels. Propaganda has been spreading around the district. Looks like we found the warehouse it was coming from”. 
He ducks his head out from under the chain, releasing you from your prison, and quickly undoing your cuffs before softly shoving you towards the street. 
“Go straight home.” 
You nod your head in agreement and watch him rejoin his army. 
You run away from the noise, dodging people as they run with you. 
The same Peacekeepers that pinned you in the tunnel waited by a checkpoint but they didn’t bother you again as you ran past. 
—------
It was the next afternoon when a Peacekeeper van turned up outside your house. Children playing ran back inside. 
The Peacekeeper politely knocked at your door. 
“Yes?” you answer. You keep the door in front of your body like a shield. 
“Miss.” He nods his head, “I am here to take you back to the Compound”. 
Your gut twisted. The holiday was over and you were back to playing puppet. 
“I’ll finish my cooking and be right over.” 
He places his hand on the door in case you try to close it. 
“I’ve been given instructions to take you. I am afraid I can’t leave without you.”
He looked almost sorry to say it. He must have been a district-born Peacekeeper. 
You take your hands off the door to show him you aren’t going to make it hard for him.
“Okay. I’ll turn the oven off and put on my shoes.” 
“It would be appreciated, Miss.” 
He waits by the door as you do as promised. 
Your mother had only just taken her medicine leaving her dazed but still awake. You decide to tell her you’re going for a walk instead of the truth.
The Peacekeeper is kind, waiting patiently by the door without sound. He smiles at you as you near him, ready.
You lock the door and follow the officer to the truck. 
You head to the empty bed of the truck but he continues to the passenger side door, holding it open for you. 
He looked awkward as he held it, “Ah which would you prefer?”
You smile at him and take his offer of sitting up front. He shows you how to work the seatbelt as he gets into the driver's seat. 
You thank him, telling him you’ve never been up front before. 
“Oh, that’s okay. I remember my first time in a car. I thought it was amazing.”
You do not share the same enthusiasm. Being in a car only meant you were going to or coming from Coriolanus. 
“I am Y/N,” you offer. 
“People call me Smiley.” You thought the name suited him. 
“How long have you been a Peacekeeper for, Smiley?”
“Oh for about three years. I was only a grunt for a year, though. Corio-Commander Snow promoted me to officer once he got back”.
Your head shot up to look at him, after his familiar way of talking about Coriolanus. Could a man like this be friends with a man like Coriolanus?
“Did you know Commander Snow before he was Commander?” You tried to act uninterested. 
“Oh yeah! I met him on his first day here.” 
You imagine Coriolanus in the blue uniform of a grunt, scared out of his mind. 
“Used to go with him to the Hob to watch Lucy Gray and the Covey perform. He used to sneak off to see her after the show,” he laughs at the fond memory but it sent ice down your veins.
He had told you he never even met her. You have zero doubt in your mind now that he was the one who killed her. 
“Shame about Lucy Gray,” you begin, “He must have been so sad when she disappeared.” 
Smiley nods his head, “I reckon the Mayor killed her in revenge. Both her old boyfriend and the Mayor's daughter he ran off with turned up dead. There’s no way she didn’t do it.”
You wondered if Coriolanus framed her for murder so no one would go looking for her once she disappeared. If he does the same to you, would your community believe it? The girl with the baked goods stall on a Saturday, a murderer? Would they believe that yet another girl tangled up with Coriolanus could be a killer?
“Maybe she didn’t do it,”, you test the waters, “Maybe she was framed.” 
Smiley laughs, “S’pose it’s possible, but she was no stranger to killing. She was the 10th victor of the Hunger Games.”
This information surprised you. You never went to the Reapings as you had a special pass that dubbed your work too important to be interrupted, and there were few working TVs in the district. And even fewer turned them on during the Hunger Games. 
Was that her appeal to Coriolanus, that she was tough enough to be a victor? Was her refusal of him now the reason he targeted your soft demeanor? 
“Victor of the Hunger Games and a Peacekeeper? How was that allowed?” 
“Oh, it wasn’t,” he laughs again, “I was bunk mates with him. I used to hear him sneak out. Always a romantic." 
You bite back the question wrangling your tongue; You don’t think that he is acting romantic now, do you?
Instead, you try learning more about Coriolanus. 
“What got him sent from the Capitol to District 12?” You couldn’t imagine such a self-important Capitol citizen would volunteer. 
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what got him sent back here as Commander.” Smiley answers honestly, “There was a rumor that he knew her in the Capitol. Helped her in the games, but I am not so sure I believe it. Why go through all of that, and then try to get yourself sent off to District 2 for officer training? He was always planning to get back to the Capitol. Why would he do that if the girl he sacrificed everything for was here? Makes no sense to me.”
The car is let into the gates of the Compound and Smiley slows the car down as it tracks through. 
“He’s over Lucy Gray though. Hasn’t mentioned her since he got back.” 
He says after a moment, like he was worried that you were getting jealous of Lucy Gray and not terrified that you would end up like Lucy Gray. 
The office building comes into view. It stood huge and white with unnaturally bright, clean, marble steps. 
He drives right up to the steps, stopping in front of a waiting Coriolanus. 
Coriolanus opens the door before you can and reaches over you to undo your seatbelt. It feels as if he yanks you down, but his touch is gentle and unharmful. 
“Thanks, Smiley.” It was the first time you had ever heard him thank one of his Peacekeepers. Smiley places a finger to his forehead and tips it back to Coriolanus before he drives off. 
“Hey,” he breathes. He takes your shoulders into his hands and kisses you quickly. 
You don’t greet him back, still frozen from the talk with Smiley. 
Coriolanus doesn’t notice as he leads you to his office with a hand on your shoulder. 
He seemed eager to get into the room. His pace was quick and he only gave head nods to passersby who greeted him. 
He sighs as he closes the door to his office. His hand goes to the back of your neck briefly before disappearing altogether. 
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says like you had a choice. 
He continues his quick pace over to the couch against the wall and pats the spot next to him. 
You sit down and to your shock, he lays down across it.
He lays his head on your lap as he talks. It wasn’t enough for him as he forced your hand over his chest. 
“This week,” he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, “I wish it would just end.” 
He throws his hands off his face to speak clearly, “First Tigris said that she was going to quit her job, but I called her last night, and she decided she’s not going to.”
“Tigris? Is that your girl back home?” You remembered his distaste for working women. Because she was Capitol, was she subject to better treatment than you and Lucy Gray, or did he have plans to frame her for murder as well? 
“No,” he said firmly, “No, she’s my cousin. You’re my girl.”
“Hm,” you change the topic quickly, “Surely not enough to ruin your week.”
Coriolanus seemed pleased with the attention and continued. 
“I have the Commander from District 4 visiting this week. He’s not out of the car two minutes before one of the new recruits shoots himself in the foot, right in front of him.” 
You scoff back a giggle at the image, and he manages a smile back. 
“He’s a pain, this Commander. Constantly after me. He’s heard I have a close relationship with Strabo Plinth and thinks I’ll help him make a connection.”
“Who’s-” he interrupts you before you finish. 
“I’ll tell you another time.” 
You scoff at him, “Another secret.” 
He shifts so he is lying on his side towards you. 
“It’s not a secret. It’s just complicated.” The whole Capitol knows about the district-turned-Capitol citizen fulfilling the father's role in Coriolanus' life. He would prefer to keep the clean image with you. 
“Am I here for a reason, Commander Snow?”
“All I’ve wanted this week was to see you.” 
You shift uncomfortably under him. A look of distress crossed your face. 
“What’s wrong?” he sits up beside you. 
“Am I the next Lucy Gray?” 
“Ah! Lucy Gray,” he mutters, “If I hear that name again.” 
He gets up to give himself distance from you, going over to his desk and leaning against it with his hands.  
“Don’t deny it. Smiley told me you used to sneak off to see her after the shows.”
“I once had to carry Smiley back to the compound because he was so drunk he forgot how to walk. But you want to take his word over mine?” 
“Yes. You’re a liar. Is Tigris really your cousin?” 
He throws his hands up, astonished at the question. “Yes. I have a cousin and a Grandmother waiting for me in the Capitol. Both of which you will meet when we get back to the Capitol.”
“We?” You felt your heart stop. 
He turns his head to you.
“Yes, we. Did you think I was going to leave you behind?” 
“I can’t go to the Capitol. I belong here.” You think of your mother and Edmund. 
His jaw clenched but his movements are slow as they come towards you. 
“I belong in the Capitol. You belong with me. As soon as Ravinstill dies, we are on the first train out of District 12.”
What would happen to you once he got bored of you in the Capitol? In District 12 he would cast you out into familiar streets but would he even bother to get you back home once he decided you were no longer worth the time? 
You shake your head no and he takes your face between his hands. 
“You’ll like the Capitol, I promise. Pretty dresses. Food. You and Tigris will become fast friends.”
“What about my mother?’’
“We’ll send her money. She’ll be alright without you.” 
“Coriolanus, no.” His name felt funny coming out of your mouth. 
He adjusts to a more menacing position; his fingers tightened on your face, his body stiffened into a hard stance over you and his eyes squinted down on you. 
“Do you honestly think you have a say in the matter?.” 
You begin to cry “Please, I can’t go to the Capitol.”
He softens under your tears, the tight hold on your face turns gentle, and he drops himself to your height. 
“I know this is your home, but you will be happy in the Capitol. I’ll make you happy in the Capitol.” 
He won’t ever have to hear the name ‘Lucy Gray’ again and you’ll never have to keep wondering if you’ll have the same fate as her.
The buzzing from his desk saved you from any more useless begging. 
He looked visibly annoyed at the interruption but answered it anyway. 
Releasing you with a sigh, he walks over to his desk and presses a little button. 
“Yes?” Coriolanus answers. 
“Sir, Commander Bonza is looking for you.” The female voice spoke over the intercom. 
“Show him to the conference room. I’ll be right there.”
He comes back over to you, taking your shoulder in his hand. 
“Just stay here. I’ll only be an hour.” He leads you back over to the couch and you take a seat. “I’ll have them bring in tea.” 
He doesn’t look back as he leaves the room. 
You left as soon as you thought it safe enough to do so. 
You try not to run to avoid looking suspicious but your quick pace could not be slowed. You had to get out of the compound. 
A few stare at you as you pass but don’t try to stop you.
The gate opens freely, and you turn back to ensure you aren’t being chased
As you enter the dirt track back to the district, you hear your name being called. 
Emerging out of the trees, Edmund stands tall in his worn jacket. 
You throw your arms around his shoulders and allow yourself to be kept upright by him. 
“What happened? Are you alright?” He frantically asks.
“What are you doing here?” You shot back a question of your own. 
“I saw the Peacekeeper van take off with you. Look here” he shows you the hand-held wire cutters he held, “I was coming to get you. I promise, you weren’t alone”. 
He pockets the cutters to use his hands to wipe away your running tears, “What happened? Did he hurt you?” 
You shake your head no, pulling yourself back to his chest. 
“The Capitol,” you cry, “He plans to take me back to the Capitol.” 
“What? Why?”
The sound of a Peacekeeper van approaches and he pulls you back into the trees. 
“We have to go to the mountains. We’ll take your mother, and I’ll pick up more shifts. We’ll be alright, okay? I promise”. 
You cling to him as the car rolls past, certain that they are going to jump from their van and rip you from him. 
“And if he finds us?” you ask. 
Edmund brings his hand up to the back of your head, “He won’t. But if he does, then I’ll kill him.”
You look up at his beautiful, serious face. You knew he would kill for you and you knew you would do the same for him. But Commander Snow had too much power over District 12. Even just mentioning that you wanted to kill him could have you and anyone you have ever talked to hanged. But he wasn’t going to be Commander Snow forever. 
President Ravinstill will die and Commander Snow will become Candidate Snow. 
He won’t have time to chase you up the mountains. He’ll be on the first train out to shake hands and kiss babies. 
You tell Edmund this. Going up to the mountains too early would only get you all killed. It was better to wait for the announcement of the President's death and take off then. That way you might only have to hide from Peacekeepers who don’t really care.
He would get busy with his election and forget about the girl from District 12. And you in turn would forget about Commander Snow. 
Edmund disagreed. You need to move now. But with your mother in her fragile condition, you doubted she could even make it up to the cabins. And with Coriolanus occupied with the other commander, it would allow for more time to prepare for the move.
This argument won him over even if he wouldn’t admit it. 
You knew him well enough to know that when he told you that he ‘had to get you home’, what he really meant was, ‘You’re right. We should wait. We can’t let our fear take over our sensibility’. 
As you walked back home, you clung to his arm. He must have found it difficult to walk as you wrapped yourself around his arm but he made no complaint the whole journey. In fact, he said nothing the entire journey about anything, and you made no attempts to change that. Happily walking in silence. 
You were almost disappointed when you had to release him on your front porch. 
‘‘I have to go home, but I’ll be right back. I’ve got my brother waiting for me to take him hunting.”
“Why would you be right back then?”
“You want me to stay, don’t you? After today.” 
“No.” You could almost laugh at his words if they weren’t going to make you cry. 
“No. You should go with your brother. I’m fine. And Commander Snow won’t be back tonight if he’s seen me today.” 
You brush your hands down the breast of his coat. 
“If you bring me back a squirrel. I’ll make you squirrel stew.” 
You smile up at him to see him already smiling down at you. 
“You’ve got a deal, little lady.” His hands cup your elbows as he turns stoic again, “Are you sure you will be alright?” 
You had been through so much worse just weeks prior. 
You nod your head yes. “Look, can you go? I don’t want your brother to hate me.” 
He smiles once more showcasing his slightly crooked front tooth. 
“Never” he promises, “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow yeah?”
“Through-”
“Through the back door, yeah yeah. I know.” 
He moves his hands from your elbows and grips your shoulders instead, stooping his head down to you. “I do love you. You know that, right? I always have, and I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 
You were unsure of how to respond. ‘I love you too’ seemed appropriate but you weren’t sure if they meant the same thing anymore. He takes the words out of your mouth when he kisses you.
You kiss back. His lips felt softer than Coriolanus’. His kiss is much more gentle and less needy. You wished it was your first kiss but that now belonged forevermore to Coriolanus. This would just have to go down as your first real kiss. 
Still the longer it lasted, the louder the sound of a firing squad sounded. He pulled back just before you did. 
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he offers. 
“Goodnight, Edmund.” 
You watch him track back down the steps and into the darkness. 
You felt stunned that he had kissed you. That you had kissed him back and enjoyed it. 
Your brother would be mortified. But no more mortified, you supposed, than the kisses received from Coriolanus. 
The rush of the kiss doesn’t wear off as you enter your home. You reimage it as you sit at the kitchen table. 
When Coriolanus kissed you, it almost hurt. They never came singular but again and again, until something else called him off. 
But at least you knew he meant it. 
Edmund's kiss was almost unsure. 
Your brother's best friend had always held a special place in your heart but could it grow into seeing him as a separate man? As your man? 
You wonder if he was thinking the same thing. If somehow he got confused amongst the pressure and took his love for you as something more. 
Would he have kissed you any other way, for any other reason, if Commander Snow wasn’t in the picture? After he was gone would Edmund kiss you again, or flee into work from pure embarrassment? 
A soft knock at the door interrupted your sprailing. 
Thinking it was Edmund again, you rush to the door. Had he come to prove that the kiss was intentional and that he planned to continue his affections after Coriolanus? 
As you opened the door, you readied yourself for another kiss. But your boss was not ready to give you one. 
You stare at her surprised. She wore her normal gray dress and black boots but carried a moonshine bottle in her hand. 
“Miss Escot.” You state. 
“You ain’t come around. Figured I’ll come to you.” She steps forward to indicate her intentions of coming in and you step aside to let her.  
“So, was it everything you dreamed of?” She laughs as she enters. 
“You were wrong.” 
She spins to you, shocked, “So he ain’t touched you.”
You felt your face turn hot and red as the subject came up. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Right, so he just ain’t fucked you, yet.” She looks surprised, almost worried. She turns back around and places the bottle on the kitchen table. 
“I was wondering why you hadn’t come running back to me for a job.” 
She sighs, sitting down on a chair that had its backing almost ripped out during the raid. 
“Get two glasses.”
You do as she asks, bringing them to the table but she doesn’t unscrew the drink. 
“He plans to take me back to the Capitol,” you admit. 
“You don’t plan to go do you?”
“Of course not.” 
“Strange man. You don’t take whores home.”
You flinch at the word but knew she meant no offense. 
“So,” she uncorks the bottle and splashes the liquid out into the glasses, “What’s your plan?”
You had thought about telling her about yours and Edmund’s plan but didn’t fully trust her enough. 
“I don’t know.” 
Your boss laughs, throwing her head back. 
“I can’t believe after all that, all he wants to do is a little roughhousing.” 
“He ain't touched me. I told you.” You insist. 
She stops laughing, “Save it for when your hickeys aren’t on display.” 
You pull your dress to hide your neckline. The heat from the embarrassment steams your face.
“So you gonna kill him?” She asks.
“Why do you care what I plan to do.” 
“Because I would hate to see you hanged and that’s what gonna happen if you try”. 
“I am not going to try to kill him, and he aint taking me back.” 
“Big words from a small girl,” your boss mocked, “Sometimes you just have to know when you’ve been beat.” 
“I would rather die then-”
“Commander Snow.” Your boss spoke in a loud hard tone, and you turned to see him in the doorway. 
A chill ran up your spine. He still wore the same hard expression from his office. 
He leaves the door open as he walks in, keeping his eyes on you. 
He turns to your little boss, glaring at her, but he keeps his hands clasped behind his back. 
“Not here to offer her a job are you?”
“Of course not, sir. Just visiting.” It was the first time you had ever heard your boss speak respectfully to someone intimidating her. 
“Just leaving,” he orders. 
“Yes, sir,” she agrees. He passes the bottle of moonshine to her, not wanting it left on the table for you. 
She rushes away with it in her hands but he calls out to her as she walks. 
“Oh, you weren’t the friend hiding in the cupboard the other day were you?” 
She turns to answer him but her face reads that she was surprised by his accusation. 
You mentally plead with her to say yes. She must have seen it through your wide eyes. 
“Yes, sir. I am sorry, sir”. 
You were sure the words tasted like acid coming out of her mouth. She shrinks as he stalks towards her, grabbing her by the shoulder and tossing her out. 
“Don’t come back again” He shuts the door on her
He comes back over to you.
“Imagine my surprise when I came back to find you had gone”. 
“I have to check on my mother.”
He pulls you back by your arm, “There you go again. Running away.”
“No, sir.”
“Back to sir now?”
He pushes you down into a chair and you catch yourself on its arms.
You go to get up again, making an excuse about dinner but he puts his hand out. 
“Don’t,” he warns. 
He leans over you in the chair, and you shrink back as far as you can. 
“You shouldn’t have left today.”
You nod your head, unsure of what to say. 
“Say you’re sorry,” he demands. 
‘‘I am sorry.” 
“And you’ll do anything to make it up to me.” 
His face was inches from you, if you moved a centimeter you could brush against his nose.
“Sure,” you grit. If you had learned anything, he could make you do what he wanted anyway. 
“There’s a public hanging tomorrow, I would like for you to be there”. 
“Yes, Sir”. You said a silent prayer that it was no one you knew. 
Coriolanus picks up the cups from the table and douses the floor with the moonshine. 
“And I don’t ever want you around that woman again. She’s a bad influence”.
“Yes, Sir” you doubted she would ever be back again anyway. You doubted that while Coriolanus was around, you would ever see a friendly face again.
—-----
Simley picked you up again the next morning but refused to utter a word to you. 
It was a terrible feeling. You had just hoped Coriolanus had only given him a firm talking to. You now wished you hadn’t said anything to get him into trouble.
You were dropped off at the gate of the Compound this time where it was a Peacekeeper who escorted you from the car into Coriolanus’ office. 
He was not there and did not turn up as the day went on. 
The door only opened once and it was a young girl who brought in your lunch. 
You watched from the window as the Peacekeepers set up for the hanging. The grunts laid the infrastructure of the stage and barricades while the higher-ups went around with vicious-looking dogs and metal detectors. 
It was late afternoon by the time the blue uniforms came off and the official Peacekeeper uniforms were worn by everyone. They took their positions with rifles in the watchtowers, and the other Peacekeepers formed a line across the stage. It gave them a view of the takeaway metal fence that separated the divide between the stage and the audience, leaving a small gap for a family member to come grab the shoes. They chatted amongst themselves as they waited for the gate to be swung wide for the public. 
A knock on the door told you that it wasn't Coriolanus. A Peacekeeper poked his head through the door and asked you to come with him. 
You follow him out to where Coriolanus stood in front of the stage, speaking to a man dressed in a similar uniform. 
You waited with the guard until he was finished. He takes your hand in his as he nears and dismisses the Peacekeeper. 
“They are just about to open the gate,” he says. He takes you to the front of the where the audience would stand, taking his cuffs out, he clips one against your wrist and another onto the metal fence. It was the spot directly in front of the microphone in which he was to speak into in a few moments. 
You pulled against it feeling embarrassed. You were like a dog that was chained to a post. 
 “Watch me up there,” he instructs. 
He walks up the stage, saying a few words to an officer already up there. The officer pulls out a communicator from his pocket and must have given the go ahead as the gates swung wide and the people began to trickle in. 
You took the scarf out of your hair and layed it across the chain. No one needed to know whose dog you were. 
People soon surrounded you as the small area filled. Someone important must be getting hung today. 
Coriolanus begins the opening remarks about the greatness of Panem, and the need to strive for a better future for all of us. It was a speech he repeated a hundred times and never held any meaning to him. You could see the same Commander from before standing up on stage behind him. He looked gleeful to be there and you shared Coriolanus’ same distaste for the man.
He returns to the cards as he reads out the first convicted man. 
They bring him out from the prison as Coriolanus speaks, known as the dead man’s walk. 
The man was crying softly as they forced him up the steps and onto the box. He was in his late 50’s and underfed. The peacekeepers easily got the noose around his neck despite his fight against it.
“For the betterment of Panem, and the safety of the Districts you, Benjamin Harrison, are sentenced to death”. 
The box is kicked from under him and you shut your eyes until the sound of flailing feet stops. 
They drop the body like it was nothing, but the peacekeepers allow a moment for a family member to take his shoes. No one does, and the body is dragged off stage. 
You feel the crowd rustle behind you as someone makes their way to the front. They all tried to be quiet from the disruption as Coriolanus read the next name and charge. No one wanted to be caught disrespecting the Commander, and be the next name called up. 
The person finds their way to the front, beside you. You don’t look at them, keeping your eyes focused on Coriolanus who sporadically looked up to ensure you were watching him. 
“What a lovely day for a hanging.”
You recognised the voice but you still had to look to believe it.
“Edmund,” you grit through your teeth, “What are you doing here!”
“You’re not alone, remember?”
He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, but you can feel his fingertips brush yours while Coriolanus is busy reading out the charges.
You were thankful he was there, despite the danger of it. There was nothing more you hated than attending the death of another. 
You could feel Coriolanus’ stare upon you and you made a note to look back at him. 
Another man walks onto the stage with a solemn look. He is hanged without fuss and without tears. 
Edmund seemed to know him as the box was kicked, his hands latched onto the bars of the fence, and he let out a ‘tsk’.
You lower your hand and take hold of his pant leg. The small connection made you feel safer under the gaze of the Commander. You were sure he couldn’t see your hold. There were too many bodies pressed together to really work out whose hand belonged to whom.
A woman in her early 40’s was called out next and she pleaded and begged but the peacekeeper wouldn’t even look at her. She mentioned something about her son before the box was kicked out from her and the words were strangled in her throat.
Coriolanus paused upon the next name and for once he actually had your real attention. 
He clears his throat and his voice comes back strong, “Victor Tatin, a rebel and an informant to his higher-ups.”
They bring out a small boy. Doubtful he even had his name in the draw for the Hunger Games and yet still being killed by the Capitol. The shackles were too big for him and he tripped and stumbled as he walked. Edmund's hand clamped down on yours.
“Victor was the main distributor of anti-Capitol propaganda, who used his position as an errand boy here at the Compound to report back to those who wish the district harm.” 
The boy is lifted up onto the stage as the stairs prove too difficult to climb in his chains.
"For this crime, and for the betterment of Panem, and the safety of the districts, you, Victor Tatin, are sentenced to death.” 
You cry out as two boxes are moved from under him, and the small boy stops his tears. 
You look up to Edmund who had fury in his eyes. 
Coriolanus steps away from the microphone, watching as they gently lower the dead boy to the ground.
The Commander of District 4 takes the opportunity to say a few words himself. 
“Let it be known that all rebels will be caught and be brought to justice. There is nowhere to hide, and no comfort to be provided. All rebels and sympathizers will be hanged!”. 
Coriolanus retakes the microphone and wraps up the event with a statement of what was to be done with the bodies, and how the Capitol is rewarding the information given with a food drive occurring in the middle of town the next morning. 
As people left as fast as they came, you were forced to tear your hand away from Edmund. 
“Come on,” he turns to follow the crowd but you can’t. 
You check to see that Coriolanus has his back turned to talk to his officers, and you take the chance to show Edmund the cuff around your wrist. 
“He wants me to stay” you explain. 
Edmund tugs the chain as if he had the strength to break it. 
“Go,” you demand, seeing Coriolanus turn his shoulders back. 
“I’ll wait for you,” he promises. 
You were alone again but felt better for knowing that every second that passed brought you closer to meeting Edmund on the track back home. 
Coriolanus remained on stage but another peacekeeper came to undo your cuffs and accompany you back to his office. 
You break down in tears even before the door is closed. You knew the image of the small boy would haunt you. You couldn’t imagine what it would do to Coriolanus. 
Is that why he brought you here? To offer him comfort for his crimes. 
He doesn’t collect it in a reasonable time frame. You are left waiting for two hours before he comes to you. 
He looked frail as he entered. His hat had disappeared, and his commander's jacket was folded over his arm. It left him in his gray trousers and formal light blue dress shirt. 
“Everyone is gone,” he comments, throwing his jacket on the couch and walking over to where you sat in the guest chair. 
You stand as he comes closer to let him know no comfort would be given. 
“He was only a boy,” you whisper. Coriolanus nods his head in agreement. 
“I tried to send him to the Capitol as an Avox but Commander Bonza was determined to see him hang”. 
You wondered if it was a small mercy. Life as an Avox was a fate worse than death. Still, he was so small they had to use two boxes to prop him up on the stage. 
“You could have stopped it. You’re the Commander of District 12, not him.” 
Coriolanus sighs, sitting down in his chair, “And have Commander Bonza think I was weak against rebels? I need his support in the presidential run.”
“He was just a boy.” You repeat, the tears spilling freely from your eyes. 
“I know, Y/N. I know.” You could see he was getting wound up. 
“Come here,” he directs. Deciding not to push him too far, you do and he sits you on the desk in front of him. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head into your side. 
“He cried for his mother in the holding cell”. 
Coriolanus remembered crying for his mother on nights when the pain in his stomach from hunger was too much to bear. It felt almost therapeutic now to hear you cry for the boy. In a way, you were crying for Coriolanus too. 
He holds you close for his own comfort. 
“They don’t hang children in the Capitol. You’ll never have to see it again.”
You wanted to make the argument that they shouldn’t hang here but his temper was short, and your tears wouldn’t stop flowing. 
Instead, you let him hold you, gently rubbing his back. You were surprised after all the terrible things he had done that this was the burden he struggled to carry. 
He seemed content to lay against you as you comforted him. It seemed crazy to you that you were, but you felt so shallow that you allowed your default mode to take over. Besides, the sooner he felt better the sooner you could meet up with Edmund for your own comfort. 
The time passed quickly with no movement or sound from Coriolanus. 
The clock on the wall read 6:30. You decide enough time has passed to make your escape. 
“I have to go, Commander.” You rise from him but he keeps your waist in his hands.
“Stay,” he begs
You shake your head. 
“Please, just for tonight.” 
“I have to get home to my mother.”
“Tomorrow will you stay?”
“No. I can’t.” 
“You can,” he contests, “You just won’t”. 
“My mother needs me.” You tear his hands off him and he shoots out of his chair. 
“She should get used to your absence.”
“I am not going to the Capitol.” You seethe. 
“I don’t know where else you think you are going.” 
You turn to leave but he yanks you back.
“No, no. I need you to stay.” 
“Get off of me,” you demand.
“You’re not leaving me.” 
You repeat your demand and shove him harshly off you.
“You’re telling me no? After everything I’ve done for you?” he squints his eyes at you. 
“If you don’t stay with me, you can forget about food for the next month.” 
You freeze at his words. There wasn’t enough food to last a month. Maybe ten days. You would properly be ok with your saved money and Edmunds hunting, but it would be a dead give-away that you had other means beside him. 
You stop struggling against him, and his grip loosens on you. 
“Stop acting like this, alright?”
His hands go to the side of your face and he tugs you closer. 
“We are on the same side. It wasn’t my decision to kill the boy but it was something I had to do.  You’re my sweet girl, aren’t you? Can’t you act like that? Even just for tonight?”
His desperation was a dangerous thing so you nodded your head. The last time you ran from him after a hanging, he was so hurt, he made your life a living hell for months. You worried what he would do now that he has left you destitute and dependent on him. You had nothing more he could take, but the whipping post remained. 
Your complacency returns him to a less manic state. His tired eyes soften, and his body falls back to the defeated state that he came in with. 
“Okay,” he says softly and takes your hand. 
He leads you back to his apartment with your hand in his. It was small but well-built. Everything was hard metal from the floors to the dining room table. He had a small kitchen space straight to the left with an old fridge. Directly across from it, separated by the hallway was a living space that only consisted of a worn green couch facing a mounted tv, and a small table with a radio on top. 
“It’s not much,” he comments. 
You had been to houses without roofs. This seemed like a palace. 
He leads you into the center of the room, “Kitchen,” he points, “Ah, living room”. 
Taking you down the hallway he opens the first door on the right, “That’s the bathroom”. 
You peek into the small space to see a shower and a toilet. 
He reaches for the door just down to the left and reveals his bedroom. The bed was unmade and there wasn’t a single personal item left lying around. Apart from the bed and a standing wardrobe, there was nothing else in the fairly spacious room. 
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
You shake your head no. You weren’t sure you could stomach anything after today. 
He takes you back to the bathroom, “Why don’t you take a shower and we’ll go to bed?” 
“Towel,” he places a hand on a white towel hanging up on a hook, and then opens the mirror to show three shelves, “Toothpaste and my toothbrush”. 
Everything he offered was already something he used. You knew he at least had another towel to offer you but he wanted to share everything. 
“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you to change into.” 
“Thanks,” you knew he wanted to hear it. 
He smiles and kisses your cheek before leaving.
 The steam from the shower began to fill the room by the time you made yourself take off your clothes and get in. You noticed there was no lock on the door, and you were expecting him to come back. 
He never did or at least you never noticed him. While most of the shower was just spent leaning against the wall. You did feel refreshed having fresh teeth. 
Wrapping the towel around yourself you check outside the door. Both the kitchen light and the bedroom light were on. 
If he was waiting in the bedroom you could just take the clothes and return to the bathroom. But only the clothes he promised sat on the bed. One of his white t-shirts, and a pair of boxers. 
It covered you mostly. You place your clothes and boots at the end of the bed and return the towel to the hook. 
You found him eating in the kitchen after you had done. He was eating mince from a bowl, his appetite now returned from killing a young boy. 
He grins at you as he chews. 
It makes you feel self-conscious. 
“I am going to go to sleep,” you state, although you have little hope of actually sleeping. 
“Okay. I’ll join you soon,” he takes another bite. 
You turn back to the bedroom. You even managed to lay down in the dark room but you found yourself too preoccupied with what he was doing to succumb to sleep. You could hear the shower running. What you couldn’t see was him pressed up against the glass, his forehead resting against it next to his hand while he jerked himself off. He couldn’t enter that bedroom with you without releasing first. He imagined it though. Climbing on top of you and sliding his hands under his shirt that you wore. You wouldn’t fight him but invite him closer, letting him have free roam of your body. You would beg for it. Beg him to continue. Beg him to take you back to the Capitol with him. 
He spills out onto his hand. After that, he washes himself clean and readies himself for bed. 
He worries about waking you as he enters the bedroom in nothing but a towel.  
You can almost feel him searching for his clothes. Normally he slept in only his underwear too tired to change at the end of the day, but this time he searches for his disregarded pajama bottoms. He can faintly see the blue stripes from the light outside the door and yanks them from the pile. He doesn’t bother looking for the matching top, just taking a white t-shirt from a stack. He liked that he was matching you. 
 You think he is going to undress in front of you but he takes his clothes back to the bathroom to change. 
The lights turn off and Coriolanus sneaks back into the room. He is slow as he moves down into the sinking bed, careful of waking you. 
You shuffle to let him know you are still awake. His movements turn less careful as he settles. He stills for a second but turns quickly towards you. 
He leans over you, taking the wrist you were lying against and tugging it over himself so he was being spooned. He buries your hand under his cheek and you can feel his breaths against it. 
You wonder if Edmund was still waiting outside of the Compound for you or if he had realized you weren’t coming and had gone home to his family. He’d stay. He was stubborn. 
You hoped your mother was asleep and unaware of your absence. She was only taking her morphling at night but it kept her asleep for 14 hours at a time. If she had taken it at her normal time, you should be home well before she wakes up tomorrow. 
Coriolanus’ scent fills your nose. It was oddly comforting. Every time you breathed it would come rushing up invading your senses. You could only feel him, only smell him. You went to sleep with Coriolanus surrounding you. 
—------
The beeping of an alarm clock woke your restful sleeping. 
You sit up, half unsure of what it was at first. It was Coriolanus who turned it off, but he rolled back over on the bed. 
“What time is it?” you ask. 
Coriolanus sighs, resting a hand over his eyes, “6:30.”
He looked exhausted but rose anyway. His movements were sluggish as he stood from the bed and leaned across it to flatten the bed sheet over you. You toss it off as he did. 
“Go back to sleep”. 
You tell him you’re already up and rise from the bed. 
He was too tired to argue so he went about his morning routine. He takes a fresh uniform out of the cupboard and tells you he’ll be back. 
You dress back in your clothes too. Feeling better for it. 
You make your way to the main area and hear the tap running in the bathroom. 
After not eating dinner, your hunger bore a hole in your stomach. 
You check the fridge to find it is surprisingly bare. Two metal trays sit on top of each other, the food was mainly in tack but you could see small bits torn off. A half-bitten sausage, the grease of where food once sat on the small metal compartment. You unravel tin foil and find a half loaf of pre-cut bread. 
You smell the leftover food, judging it right for consumption. 
It takes you a bit to find your bearings in the kitchen. The top cupboard held food staples; flour, salt and pepper, oil. While the bottom cupboards held the pots and pans. There were only a few and they were worn down by the years. 
They cook just the same, and you fry the mashed potato that was left, and reheat the sausages. 
Coriolanus returns to the kitchen with his Commander jacket in his hand. He looked surprised to find you cooking. 
He drapes the jacket over the back of one chair as he speaks, “I was about to go to the mess hall and bring something back but that smells too good to pass up.” 
He comes over to you and stands behind you with his hands on your hips, placing a kiss to your cheek. You dip the stale bread in the grease of the sausages and fry it.
“Thank you.” 
You were pretty sure it was the first ‘thank you’ you had ever received from him. You rack your brain for another time but only his hits and threats come to mind. 
You stand silent. He was not welcomed to your cooking.
He moves from you at his own free will and goes to a small black machine on the kitchen counter. He is rough as he sets it up. 
Dark liquid pours out and the smell of coffee battles with the smell of oil. 
The first sips pleases him, and he turns to see you looking at him.
He offers you a drink from his coffee cup but you refuse it. 
“Can you get the plates from the top? I can’t reach them”.
He does as you ask, bringing down two white plates and setting them on the counter. He reshuffled the items in the cupboard, so the plates were on the bottom shelf where you could reach. 
You don’t talk further as you plate up the items and take them to the table. You place them opposite to each other, sitting down before he could move them. 
You eat quickly while Coriolanus takes his time to chew. 
He takes a break from his food and has another sip of coffee.
“You see those pants,” he nods to the folded pile of gray pants on the chair and you nod, “Can you iron them for me?” 
It wasn’t a request so you confirmed you would. 
“And my shoes need to be shined for tomorrow.” 
“Sure,” you grit before softening your voice, “After that, I was thinking I would go home to my mother. She needs her next morphling dose soon.”
You have not told him that your mother was now only on one bottle a day. He would properly stop the supply altogether if he knew and you needed the money from selling the extra bottles. 
Your real concern is that she would wake up and find you still not home. 
Coriolanus takes a bite of his sausage, he looked to be thinking about your request. 
 “That’s fine,” he finally said. 
He looks at his watch on his wrist before getting up and placing his dish in the sink. 
“It’s Commander Bonza’s last night here. He wants a farewell ceremony. If you hear gunfire that’s all it is.” 
He turns back to you and takes his jacket off the chair and slips it onto himself. 
“I’ll visit when he is finally gone.” 
You nod. At least you will be back on your own turf. Here you felt like an intruder. 
He lifts your chin and kisses you before leaving. 
You remained at the table but he could hear you had gone to wash the dishes as he closed the door. 
His hand stilled. What if he needed you during the day? What if he managed to break away from the attention of Commander Bonza and could come back?
He wondered what you would do back home. Your mother would be close to dead. Would you bake? Go for another walk?
He felt sour. You were more important here than you were there. 
Here at least he knew what you were doing. You were washing dishes, ironing, taking care of him. 
If he let you roam free over the district, who knew what you were doing or who you were talking to? 
The metal pan clanged as he twisted the lock with his key. 
It was Commander Bonza’s last day, he couldn’t be distracted by these thoughts. Today he just needed the comfort of knowing you were here for him. 
You rush through your chores without noticing the locked door. You find the laundry room next door to the bathroom and come across a stack of neatly folded towels. Shaking your head you grab the iron from the built-in white shelf and take it back to the living room where you had more space. 
You finish the pants in no time but the shoes proved hard to shine. When you finally got them bright enough it was nearly 9 o’clock. Your mother would be awake soon and the walk home was still 20 minutes. 
The cold that shoots through you when the door fails to open was one of the worst feelings you had ever felt. You yell, bang, and twist at the door but it remains unopened. 
You wait, thinking that maybe he wanted to ensure that the work was done before letting you leave. But lunchtime passes and he doesn’t return. 
You try wedging the door open with a butter knife but it bends the metal. The windows were sealed shut in the air-controlled room, and there was no back door that you could try. 
From the window, you could see a group of Peacekeepers carrying a long and heavy wooden table. You bang on the window, gaining their attention. 
They freeze as if you were a ghost before moving on. 
—-
The ceremony turned into a party. You did hear the sound of saluting gun fire in the late afternoon but soon after it, you would hear the faint sound of music and dancing. Peacekeepers had strung lights across the compound. They were round and shone a dim yellow. 
As night fell they became the only light over the place. You still were sat at the window, waiting for Commander Snow to return and release you. 
Your mind drove you mad. Images of your mother crying out for you. Trying to walk on her own causing herself harm. She would definitely be up by now. Would Edmund tell her where you were or would he try to shield her from the truth?
She would be by herself surely. He would have had to return home to his own family. She would be by herself, worried sick. She wouldn’t believe Edmund no matter how good of a lie he told. You could picture her in bed with her sore back, crying. 
By the time Coriolanus finally arrived home, you were a bilthering mess. 
He drops his keys at the door and comes rushing over to you. 
“What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t catch your breath through your tears. 
“Hey, what happened?” he brushes your tears away with his thumbs.
You bash him in his chest for his dumb question. 
“My mother,” you gasp between tears, “I need to go home. She needs me.” 
“Okay, okay,” he soothes, ‘I’ll take you now.” 
He takes your wrist into his hand and leads you out of his apartment. He doesn’t bother to lock the door. There was nothing to steal anyway, and the men here weren’t stupid enough to try. 
You could hear the men over the music as you walked through the compound. Coriolanus must have left early. 
A few Peacekeepers hid in dark corners smoking, only the light of the cigarette giving them away. You passed two, who scrambled back trying to go unnoticed as they carried their drunk friend back to the barricades. 
Coriolanus doesn’t notice any of it. Or at least he pretends not to. You noticed he was far more observant then he led on.  
He takes you to a two-story building that still had people working inside. He doesn’t take you in but around the back to a large shed that housed the cars. 
He walks along a row of cars before coming to an acceptable one. It was a common patrolling car, with a cage in the back for rebels. 
He looks at the number painted on the side, and leaves you by the passengers door. 
“Wait here. I’ll go get the keys.”
“Hurry,” you tell him but it places no pep in his step. 
There was no way she would have been able to eat anything. Her morphling dose was due hours ago. Even if she managed to get up. She wouldn’t be able to eat from the pain. 
You thought about just leaving him and trying to sprint back to the house. But even with his slow pace the car would be faster. You were outraged by him. You were under the illusion that if you played to his wants, you could continue with your life with minimal distribution. But there was no leniency with him. He had a child-like temper. There was no give and take, there was only take with him. 
He does return moments later with the keys and opens the passengers door to let you in. 
“I’m sure she is fine,” he says as he buckles his own seat belt. 
You don’t speak to him the whole journey, despite his attempts. 
The only sound you made was upon seeing the red sign that marked the beginning of your community.
He parks outside of your house and you rush to get inside. 
“Mum,” you called out before you had even opened the unlocked door.
You gasp as you see Edmund standing in your kitchen. He looked just as shocked to see you. 
“Where have you been!” he demanded. 
You try and shoo him, but Coriolanus was only two steps behind you. 
You feel a protective hand go on top of your shoulder. 
“She’s been with me. Who are you?”
“He’s the maintenance man.” You lie. 
You feel Coriolanus’ hand tighten on your shoulder. Edmund knew the danger he was in. One wrong move and he would be sent to the noose the next morning. 
“I was just fixing some damage in the roof. The door was open and I heard her mother calling out,” he showcases a couple of tools on the bench. You thank God that he did actually take the time out today to fix something, “Normally, Y/N is here. I got worried when she wasn’t.”
“And she planned to pay you with what? She has no money.” 
“Food!” You call out, “I make food for his family in exchange.”
Coriolanus looked unsure but had no other proof he could object with. 
“Go tend to your mother. I’ll make sure the work is finished.” Coriolanus ordered. 
Torn, you don’t make a move. The sole purpose of your trip was to ensure that your mother was okay but you weren’t sure if you could leave Coriolanus and Edmund in the same room. 
“No need. I took care of her. She’s asleep now”. 
“All day? What a loyal friend”.
“Yeah, well someone had to look out for her.” 
Coriolanus takes a step forward, positioning his body so it hides you behind it. 
“Coriolanus Snow.” He held out a hand to shake. 
“Commander Snow, you mean. The mighty Commander of District 12” Edmund holds his hands out in front of him, “I am unworthy to shake such a hand”. 
Coriolanus keeps a still face as he withdraws his hand. 
“That might be true,” Coriolanus shakes his finger at Edmund in an accusing manner, “Didn’t I see you next to my girl at the hanging?” 
Edmund shrugs his shoulders, “I’ve stood next to many people, at many hangings. It all begins to merge into one.”
“I know what you mean,” Coriolanus agrees. 
Talk of hanging makes you nervous. 
“Coriolanus,” you pressed your hand against his shoulder and urged him forward,“How about I make you a cup of tea?” 
He lets you push him to the table, and sit him down.
“Sure.” He answers but his eyes remain locked on Edmund as if he was the unwanted guest. 
You felt better with him sitting. It would at least give Edmund a head start if Coriolanus decided to attack.
“I’ll have one too” Edmund states, turning with you into the kitchen but you stop him with a hand. 
“No” you state, pulling items out of the fridge and placing them into Edmunds hands, “You’ve got to get home. That wife of yours must be cursing your name.” 
Edmund silently begs you to let him stay with his big brown eyes. But you couldn’t. He had to leave before he got himself killed. 
Coriolanus on the other hand looked smug. He sat proud and upright in his chair.
“I’ll show you the door.” Coriolanus looks to get up, and you feel a rush of panic go through you. 
“No need. I built it!” Edmund snapped. 
As much as you would have loved the protection of Edmund, sending him off was the best decision. It had barely been 5 minutes and Edmund was already losing his temper.
“Then you should have no trouble using it”. 
Edmund gives you a pleading look to change your mind but can’t.
“Thank you for your kindness today. I am glad someone was here for my mother”. 
“I still have work to do.” Edmund tries. 
“You can come back tomorrow”. You push your friend to the door. He turns back to you once out of the threshold. 
He says your name softly before the door closes in his face.
You turn back to Coriolanus who looked like the boy who won the biggest prize at the fair.
“I don’t want him in the house if I am not here.” He calls as you make his tea. 
You try to act nonchalant as you answer, “Fine.” 
You finish Coriolanus’s tea and bring it to him at the table.
He tugs your wrist as you pull your hand back and invites you onto his lap.
“You seemed close with the maintenance man,” he states, taking a sip of tea. 
“Not at all. He’s my brother’s old friend. We’re just old acquaintances.”
He rubs your arm, “Why don’t you go pack a bag to take back”.
“Back? I thought that was a one night thing.” You bolt up out of his hold and he continues to sip his tea unbothered. 
“You think I am letting you stay here after finding a man lingering in your house?” 
You doubt if that was his plan long before Edmund was introduced. 
“I told you who he was. My mother needs me here. She can’t even get out of bed by herself”. 
“She seems to be standing just fine now.”
You follow his eyes to the hallway where your mother leaned against the frame out of breath. 
You rush to her, trying to help her back to bed but she resisted. 
“I was so worried,” she huffed. 
“I am sorry.”
Coriolanus rises from his seat to join you and your mother in the hallway. 
“She’ll be coming back with me, ma’am. You are welcome to visit anytime.”
Your mother wanted to argue and scream, you could see it on her face but she bit her tongue.
You spoke for her, “I am not. I am staying here”. 
Coriolanus pushes past you to your bedroom where he yanks, opens the closet and begins searching for something. He tossed things out onto the floor before growing impatient and swifty going over to your bed and stripping the pillow case from the pillow. 
He stuffs the things thrown on the floor into the case. Your underwear, and spare clothes are stuffed into the small sack. 
He leaves the room to head to the bathroom and he sees you still with your mother as he passes. 
He takes your toothbrush and a hair brush laying on the sink, packing it in the case. 
“Lets go,” he demands with a strong hold on your arm. 
You felt so frustrated as he pushed you forward. You scream and pull against him. 
Your mother looked physically pained kneeled over the door frame. She looked as if she was yelling but no sound could come from her mouth. 
You scream at him to let you go but he practically carries you out the door by your waist. He lets you go as if you were going to walk yourself only to pick you up by the waist again and throw you forward towards the car. 
‘‘Let go of her!” You hear Edmunds voice before the force of his hit sends both you and Coriolanus off balance. 
Coriolanus lets go of you to defend himself against Edmunds attacks. He grunts as Edmund gets a good shot to his mouth. His lip split instantly. 
Coriolanus was stronger though. Well fed and well trained. He dodged the next swing and shot back one of his own. It landed against Edmund’s eye. It gave Coriolanus time to distance himself from the car. Now that he wasn’t backed into a corner, Edmund couldn’t rely just on his brute strength. 
He lunged forward again but Coriolanus jumped back in time for the swing to miss. 
With a clear shot to his face, Coriolanus throws his fist into Edmund’s nose. Blood gushed from it, leaving a large red patch. But it doesn’t deter him. He licks the blood off his lips and runs at Coriolanus with his shoulder. 
Edmund’s tackle sent Coriolanus to the ground with an soft groan. With his knees cemented into the ground below, Edmund takes hold of Coriolanus' collar and uses it to bring his face up against his fist. 
You could feel people watching from their houses but none came to help. 
Not even whe Coriolanus managed to reverse positions. He didn’t make the same mistake as Edmund, he kept his body weight centered. One knee kneeling on the ground while the foot of his other leg stayed flat against the earth’s floor. It would be harder for Edmund to roll him over. 
Coriolanus’s fists pounded into Edmunds face. You could see he was losing focus and his body lost power. 
He was going to kill Edmund if he continued. 
You throw yourself over his head, covering what you could with your own body. Coriolanus doesn’t swing down at you. Letting go of Edmunds hair and standing up. 
He spits the blood from his mouth out on the ground, standing tall above you as he drinks in the position you were in. You could feel Edmund raise his hand to your shoulder, his tight grip bunching your shirt. 
Coriolanus’s breathing was heavy but Edmund’s breaths were soft against your ear. 
His lip was bleeding still into his mouth, and he had a cut above his eyebrow that he smeared across his face as he wiped it off. 
You swore you heard him laugh softly as he picked up the pillow case and stuffed the lost items back in before throwing it into the car where it spilled once more. 
He holds the door open for you, his hard stare telling you what to do without words. 
You tear yourself from Edmund who was reluctant to let you go. 
“No,” he groans but you follow your instincts and get into the car. 
The door slams shut and you peer out the window to see Edmund trying to stand on shaky feet. The word must have felt like it was spinning for him. 
Coriolanus gets in and begins driving without a word. 
“Ah,” he sighs, wiping the blood off his lip. 
You choke back tears as you watch Edmund fall down in the mirror. 
“Kill them and you kill me,” you threaten, “I swear, there is not a single thing you can do that would stop me.”
Without your mother, without Edmund, there would be no point in being alive. 
Coriolanus doesn’t answer you. You take it as a sign that he meant you were serious. 
You both fall into silence on the drive back to the compound. You wondered if Lucy Gray was subjected to the same treatment. She was stronger than you were though. She was the victor of the Hunger Games, while you stood there frozen while two men tried to kill each other with their bare hands. If she couldn’t survive him, what hope did you have?
—------
The nightmare returns again that night. 
It starts as it always does. He is in the forest hunting Lucy Gray as she taunts him with her song.
“Are you, are you comin' to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree.” 
He stalks through the vegetation.  
“Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me?” He feels her once again, as a hand on his shoulder, a wet rasp in his ear. He spins with his gun to the air. 
It was a fatal mistake. He feels the thick rope loop around his neck and yank him up to the trees. He drops his gun in an effort to loosen the knot around his throat. 
Lucy Gray had strung him up in the tree like his father. 
He gasps as he wakes from it, startling you too. 
Your frightened figure was a welcomed sight to Coriolanus who scooped you up from the bed into his arms. His hold hurt you. It was far too tight, and his hot sweaty body overheated you. 
You couldn’t tell him though, you doubt he would even hear you over his loud shaky breathing.
He presses his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. 
He couldn’t have that cabin, that forest, that girl, haunt him the rest of his days. He would have to conquer this fear. 
He would go back with you, where he would face Lucy Gray or leave the ghost of her in the trees. 
Tumblr media
taglist:
@sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw
@mrsjobarnes
@greekyoghurtwithberries
@namelesslosers
@urfavnoirette
 @aleemendoza2425-blog
@hiatuswhore
@jacesvelaryons
@swimmjacket
462 notes · View notes
thebadboyfanclub · 1 year
Text
You Bled For Them, You Decide Pt.1 (Daemon x Reader)
Tumblr media
Once again this was challenging but so fun to write, I hope you guys like as well. Enjoy!
-
Daemon Targaryen or else known as “the rogue prince” had inherited the free spirit of his mother, for years he traveled as he lusted over two things, war and women. He loved his life and new found freedom after the… sudden death of his lady wife Rhea. The night after Rhaenyras wedding he fled and in a spur of the moment finding refugee in Pentos, the prince of pentos welcomed him with open arms as soon as Daemon landed with Caraxes and even threw a celebration in his honour.
That’s where he met her, (y/n). She was the daughter of a gemstone and dragonbone merchant, she stood next to her father when Daemon first laid eyes on her, her hair dark and long, her (y/e/c) eyes pierced with through his heart and made him feel like he was thrown to the flames, she held the moon and stars in those hues of hers, her lips tempting him as she bit them, her body was barely covered by a dress, it was normal for the women to dress with light materials due to the heat of the city, it did wonders for Daemons imagination. As the breeze went through her the herbal scent hit him like a brick. She was sent by the Gods for him
“It was like fate had struck me”
He would often say. It wasn’t long until he married her, her father was delighted when he saw Daemon Targaryen asking for his daughters hand. (Y/n) had prayed for their union right after that night, she could sense that this was the man for her, the man that would stand by her side until the end of their days.
Daemon spend his days and nights in her arms, the only thing that dragged him out of the bed was his dragon, other than that he spend it pleasuring his wife. Oh what a sight she was when she trembled under his touch, he held her tightly as he took her through the roads of pleasure, the servants would blush and ran away as they would couple wherever and whenever, the study room, the gardens, the bath, even up in the air while Daemon road his dragon, (y/n) rode Daemon.
It wasn’t long until (y/n) was with child, Princess Alyssa was first, (y/n) gave birth by herself in the garden with the help of her husband under a full moon, she did not trust the maesters. Not long after that came the triplets, prince Aevor, princess Eraessa and princess Aerella that were born by the help of their father in their bath on a cold rainy day, (y/n) always felt at home when surrounded by water. On the triplets first nameday (y/n) gave birth to prince Victor, unfortunately (y/n) laid ill with fever for two morrows after that birth, Daemon never left her side since he feared that he would suffer the fate of his father and brother, of course a little while after (y/n) was surrounded by her children and husband as she pushed out a daughter Johanna.
“We have been summoned”
“For what my love?”
“Laenas funeral, she died during childbirth, she commanded her dragon to set her on fire”
(Y/n) rubbed on her growing belly at the news, she had never met Daemons family yet her heart ached for the woman, every woman had feared of childbirth, all of them were willing to take the risk for their kins still their hearts skipped a beat when the labour pains began.
Daemon saw the pain in his lady wives eyes, he took her hands to place kisses on her knuckles as a way to comfort her, they didn’t have to speak about it, the eyes said everything that needed to be spoken.
“Do you want to go?”
“My brother pleaded, he wishes to be introduced to our children”
“I did not ask about your brother, I asked what do you want”
Daemon was thankful for his wife for countless reasons, one of them was her patience with him and the way she made him feel important, all his life he spend yelling to be heard and now he had someone that he could whisper to. Daemon kissed his wife on the lips softly as a way to say thank you to her, he was never good with words so physical touch was his way of showing gratitude.
“We shall leave on the morrow”
-
(Y/n) rode on her husbands dragon as she held on to him tightly, she could see why Daemon and her children loved riding so much, the peaceful feeling mixed with the power it brings, it was addicting to say the least.
After the family landed the first one to touch ground was Daemon who was careful enough to assist (y/n) by holding her waist until her feet are steady, (y/n) rushed to the eldest daughter Alyssa whom was holding little Johanna, her hatchling was way too small and she was far too young to ride, Alyssa had volunteered as to being the one to hold her sister for the ride.
(y/n) took the babe in her arms and she quite envied how it was the only one that was dressed in white clothing, (y/n) had to prepare an all black dress in just a few hours which had been a struggle given the fact that her babe was due any minute now.
“How was she?”
“I believe she slept the entire way, she seemed to stir awake as we were landing”
Alyssa always felt the responsibility for her siblings, her parents had embedded in her brain “family sticks together” that they would repeat almost every day. (Y/n) turned back to her husband with their daughter on her hip, Daemon was already greeted by his brother, king Viserys.
(Y/n)s courage seemed to waver for a moment as she did not make a step to approach the two brothers, they had never been introduced since the couple had eloped in pentos and resided there for their entirety of their wedding.
“(Y/n)”
Daemon spoke softly, his hand reaching out for her. (Y/n) pushed every bad thought aside and made her way to her husbands side with their daughter, as she stopped king Viserys smiled brightly, his eyes immediately focusing on the little girl.
“Gods be good, how old?”
“She is almost two, her name is johanna after my mother”
“Beautiful, congratulations brother you have been blessed with a wonderful family. May I hold her?”
“Of course… your grace”
(Y/n) did not quite know how to address him, alas she passed Johanna to king Viserys who beamed with joy as he held her. Johanna was not a difficult child nor did she cry a lot, she seemed quite comfortable in her uncles arms.
“My apologies I completely ignored your lady wife and we have never been introduced. What is your name?”
“I am (y/n)… your grace”
She introduced herself as she took a small curtsy, well as low as her condition allowed to do so without falling down. technically pentos was a free country yet the soul of the ground she was now stepping on was under the Targaryen legacy so it was almost obligating. King Viserys laughed lightly at (y/n)s uneasiness, at first he was furious at his brother running off to marry a nobody, as the years passed and caught wind of how Daemon was content with his family and had brought so many children with the woman, his heart soften.
“You needn’t bow dear, we are family. I have heard tales about your choice in the matter of giving birth”
“My mother gave birth to twelve children, she always said how nobody knows better than the woman”
“Your mother was fearless but some assistance would never hurt”
“If my time comes while I give birth to my children then there is nothing a… man can do, it is something above our powers and so far I have been victorious”
“I assume there is no greater force than the force of a mother. Let us join the others, it is almost time for the ceremony”
In pentos they spoke bastard Valyrian so (y/n) could somewhat understand what the man was saying as he send his niece away to the afterlife. (Y/n) clung on to her husband for comfort as the ceremony brought her worry and sadness, being surrounded by unfamiliar faces that grieved in a ceremony of a woman she never met brought a certain discomfort to (y/n).
Daemon gave his wife’s hand a squeeze as he leaned down to place a kiss on the top of her head, Daemon feared for her life every time she was to give birth, he was never a religious man yet internally he would pray to the old and new gods for a safe delivery.
“Lady Laena leaves two true-born daughters on the shore. Though their mother will not return from her voyage, they will all remain bound together in blood. Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true. And ours must never thin.”
Before (y/n) could comprehend what was said and the reason behind those sly remarks when the man gazed at a woman who had her arms wrapped around two boys the ceremony was interrupted by a baby crying in the near distance, her ears perked up at the sound of her youngest daughter wails. Alyssa tried to shush the babe to no avail, the child was begging for it’s mother, (y/n) fleeted her husbands side to soothe her baby and to also make it stop crying while the ceremony is taking place.
“I’m sorry mother”
“It’s alright Alyssa, Johanna is probably hungry, aren’t you my little sunshine?”
The babe settled as (y/n) rocked Johanna in her arms, she did not try to go back in her place, they had already brought enough attention to them for now, she remained close to her children who all surrounded her, it was quite the scene as 5 children build a wall around a woman that looked nothing like them.
Alyssa had her grandmothers eyes, one was violet and the other green, the triplets had silver white hair but all had different colour eyes, prince Aevor was a spitting image of his father, princess Eraessa had green eyes and Aerellahad violet, Victor had inherited his grandfathers black colour and Johanna seemed to match her sister with violet eyes and a few strands of black hair intertwined with her silver hair.
All of them looked like Targaryens which had caused a stir in everyone’s hearts along with judgement, there she was a woman that had no correlation to the Targaryen bloodline or any type of royal bloodline yet her children looked like what true born heirs should be.
“How is moon and my stars?”
Daemon would call his family that at the explanation of the moon and the stars were the only way you could find home while sailing or riding dragons. Daemon cradled his youngest daughter in his arms to ease the weight his wife was carrying, she was already burdened with a child in her guts she mustn’t hold another.
“Father can we go explore please?”
“Of course, Alyssa please escort your siblings, make sure they are safe”
“Of course father”
As the kids scurried away little Johanna was the only one that remained, she was too young to go with the others. (Y/n) turned to her husband with a disapproving look
“Alyssa is a child my love we mustn’t put such responsibility on her”
“She is our first born and she is perfectly capable of protecting her siblings, you coddle her”
“Would that be so bad? To keep my child safe and allow her to enjoy her adolescence?”
“Alyssa looks like our mother, she always spoke of how we could never get rid of her and it is only natural that she chose you to make her way back to us”
Daemons brother interrupted the quarrel as he approached them, a blonde haired woman who (y/n) assumed was close or maybe a year younger next to him, she was the one that the man was staring at when he spoke. What made (y/n) question the woman’s approach was how she took in her husband, it reminded (y/n) of a hawk inspecting its prey.
Daemon was amazed when he first took in Alyssa’s appearance, it was only fair that the babe got his mothers name, under the light of the full moon he swore to sacrifice everyone to keep his family safe.
“Mothers spirit could not be stopped by death, sometimes when she gets frustrated I swear it is our mother hiding behind my daughters eyes”
“Alyssa might have your mothers name but she is her own person and she will write her own story. Such expectations are a heavy burden for a young girl”
(Y/n) interrupted, she understood her husbands love and devotion to their family still she was also a mother and she wanted her child to have a quiet and happy life, to live without a target on her back, Daemon was driven by ambition, (y/n) was driven by compassion.
Viserys smiled fondly at the young woman, he detected the powerful urge of the mother spreading her wings to protect her young ones. The woman on his side kept looking at Daemon, (y/n) doubted that she even heard any part of the conversation, she also could feel that the woman was waiting to be greeted or for her presence to be acknowledged.
Daemon brought his wife closer to him by a gentle grip on her waist, sometimes he would forget that his wife had a backbone of her own and was not easily persuaded when it came to such delicate matters, he had fought wars and seen the worst in people, still he took a step back when it came to his wife. Their dynamic worked only if both of them made the effort, Daemon was the protector when it came to the outside but indoors (y/n) had the final decision.
“You bled for them, you decide”
Daemon had once muttered to her, it was a sign of respect from him, he was forever in her debt for the continuation of her sacrifices to expand their family.
“If I didn’t know any better I would say your wife has dragons blood in her dear uncle”
“Pentos is a free country my lady, we have fought for our freedom, allow me to say we have our own fire that burns bright”
“(Y/n) this is my daughter Rhaenyra, my heir”
“Pleasure to meet you princess”
“Likewise, is this your child?”
“One of them yes, her name is Johanna, I believe the entire trip and ceremony tired her out”
(Y/n) cooed at her baby girl as she petted the girls silver hair, Johanna had leaned into her fathers shoulder with her eyes half closed, poor thing was fighting against slumber.
Rhaenyra felt a pain in her heart as she looked at the couple, Daemon had never been so gentle with Rhaenyra or anyone for that matter, now he didn’t even spare a glimpse in her direction as he was occupied with gazing lovingly at his wife, she felt jealousy boil in her heart thinking she was supposed to be the one in (y/n)s place.
“One of them?”
“Yes, the gods have been quite generous, we have 6 children now”
“Such… great news”
She mumbled. Rhaenyra was stunned, 6 children. Daemon had never discussed the matter of children in the past, now he fathered 6 kids and another one was on the way. Rhaenyra felt the ground disappear beneath her feet as her heart beat so fast she could swear that it was going to come out from her throat.
“Excuse me”
Rhaenyra managed to grumbled as she stumbled away from the couple, she could not believe what she had witness. Rhaenyra did her best to keep her composure until she was out of sight, not only has her first love moved on and has a happy family -something that she was robbed from- he had now unintentionally blown her cover and paraded his Targaryen featured children for everyone.
Part two
Requests are open!
4K notes · View notes
dreamescapeswriting · 4 months
Text
So Then Kiss Me ~ BC [MATURE WARNING]
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
WORD COUNT:5K
GENRE: Continuation of this piece HERE (you dont have to read to read this though)SMUT MINORS DNI, Insta love kinda feel, mafia AU, Chan being a total gentleman with reader, office sex, @meloncremesoda
Cunnilingus, protected sex, excitement of possibly getting caught
PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader 
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
The sun was starting to set and the streets were already dimly lit and cloaked in an ominous stillness that made you feel completely uneasy. The air was thick with tension and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong at any second.
"You just need to relax, once we get to my place you'll be able to do that." Katarina - your best friend of almost seven years now - explained as you nodded a little taking in a deep breath. Somewhere inside of you, you knew she was right and that you were just feeling uneasy because of the shitty day you'd had.
Shitty probably wasn't the best way to describe it since it seemed as though there was a malevolent force that was wreaking havoc on your entire life today. In the span of a single day, you'd been fired - even though you'd been up for a huge promotion but they'd given it to the new hire. Something you'd expressed your disdain for and was quickly slapped with an unemployment notice. Not only that but you'd been making your way home when you'd fallen into the canal after a biker pushed you and rode off. You hadn't even managed to get a proper look at the guy, you'd just heard him laughing manically to himself from the bottom of the bridge.
By the time you'd made it home to your apartment, there was a giant red notice on the door, an eviction letter despite every single bill of yours being paid on time. The universe was out for you and it was playing a dangerous game with you.
"I'll even let you use the hot tub," Kat smirked at you but you giggled, about to say something when you heard the purr of an engine echoing off brick walls making people murmur to one another about the reckless driving.
"You've convinced me," You laughed, stepping onto the road to cross over to the convenience store since the two of you were planning to grab snacks and drinks for your sleepover tonight.
The black SUV tore around the corner, its tires skimming on the wet asphalt as it sped through the city streets. Behind the wheel, Shadow, drove recklessly trying to get his boss to a meeting on time. But as your luck, and the universe's way of fucking you up more, had it, you'd been crossing the road at the same time he ran a red light. Chan watched in awe as you appeared out of nowhere like a ghost in the night, you looked so fragile and delicate and completely unaware of the impending danger you were in.
"Stop the car!" A voice boomed from the back of the vehicle.
The sound of tires screeching made you look up, your eyes widening in a mixture of shock and fear frozen in place as you began to shake. The SUV came to an abrupt halt mere inches away from you as people turned and gasped watching the scene in front of them.
"Are you okay?!" Kat asked as she rushed you over to the other side of the road letting you lean against the wall as you held your hand over your chest. Your heart was racing so much you were afraid it was about to come right out of your chest.
"The universe hates me," Was all you'd managed to get out as you stared down at the floor, your whole body was shaking as you thought back to the whole thing. The light was illuminated for you to cross the street, none of this was your fault but if the car hadn't broken so suddenly you'd be dead right now.
"Listen! Creep! If you're going to yell at her for being on the road maybe you should take an eye exam!" Kat started to yell out and you breathed out heavily turning to see her staring at a man twice her size who was staring down at her. He was almost 6''5 in height, bald and had a giant scar running down the left side of his face. His attention moved from Kat to you, staring you down and making your mouth run dry.
"Don't stare her down! It might work on other people but we're not going to back down!" Kat screamed in his face, hitting his chest with her purse.
"We'll sue you! You were driving over the speed limit and you ran a red light! Matter of fact-" She reached into her purse pulling out her phone.
"I'm calling the police!" She yelled but you put your hand on her arm trying to calm her down.
"Leave it. He didn't hit me, let's just go home." You begged, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep it off like nothing had happened, the sooner the day was over the better and standing in the street arguing with a man who looked like he could snap you in half was not helping.
"I won't leave it! He could have killed you!" She screamed, her yells beginning to draw attention from those around you. You heard another door open and shut and you glanced in the direction of the car.
"And what do you want?!" Kat rang out making a few of the women around you both gasp.
"Do they know who that is?" One woman muttered making you glance behind you to stare at them. Both of them looked terrified as they stared at the second man who had joined you on the streets,
"Obviously not otherwise they wouldn't be yelling," Her friend whimpered before they scurried away into a nearby store.
"Are you okay?" You glanced back around not expecting to see the man inches away. His accent was thick and you suddenly felt as though you couldn't breathe with how handsome he was staring at you, you nodded a little.
"Are you sure? It must have scared you quite a bit." The man stared down into your eyes searching for any signs that you might have been lying to him but you barely even blinked.
"I've told him to drive the speed limit around here but he never listens," It was a lie. When Chan needed to get somewhere he would, he didn't care who was on the roads but after seeing you so scared there was something inside of him that snapped. A deep achiness that urged him to reach out and check on you, to protect you even.
"Y-Yes, fine. Just shook up," You admitted when you realised he was still waiting for you to answer him. Clearing her throat Kat stared at you, narrowing her eyes at the man and then at you before she smirked a little. It was obvious that you were attracted to the man, though it was lost on Kat as to why since his driver had almost hit you.
"She would be better if you took her for some tea, you know, to make up for your driving almost killing her." Your eyes shot in her direction but she refused to look at you, instead, she chose to stare at the man who was apologising to you,
"Kat!" You hissed out, was she out of her mind? One second she was ready to fist fight the person who had almost hit you and now she was attempting to set you up.
"She's right, I should take you for some tea to steady your nerves. It's the least I can do," Chan said as he watched you, his eyes hadn't left your face since the moment he got out of the car and you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat.
"Text me when you're done," Kat winks at you, walking away so that you can't decline the offer of tea and you whimper a little.
"I'm Chan, it's lovely to meet you...?" He stated his name so that it wouldn't feel too weird going to get something to drink with a stranger.
"Yn." You told him as he took your hand in his and gently lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently as you felt your body warm at the whole interaction.
"I know the perfect place. We can walk if you'd like," Chan told you as he slipped your arm through his, your hand clutching onto his forearm as you nodded a little. 
"Thank you." You whispered, noticing people staring in your direction as the two of you made your way down the street.
Heads turned at every point making you feel a little uneasy about this whole thing, maybe they all thought it was insane for you to try and go out with the man who had almost killed you. 
The quaint cafe was nestled in the corner of the city, usually, it would exude warmth and comfort for you but tonight it wasn't. Tonight, the sight of the place made you want to shrivel up and die on the floor.
"The universe hates me." You mumbled as you stopped outside the cafe that Chan had offered to take you to. It was run by your bosses - well, ex-bosses - wife who was glaring at you through the window. Not that she had any reason to glare when her husband was the reason you'd been fired in the first place,
"Sorry?" Chan questioned thinking he'd misheard you.
"I just remembered I need to head home, I'm going to be late for Kat's dinner." You were lying through your teeth but anything was better than going into the cafe tonight and having to deal with your ex-bosses wife,
"She told you to enjoy yourself. Is this Cafe not up to your standards? I can drive us somewhere else." He was open to taking you anywhere you wanted to go, even if it meant getting the jet out and flying you somewhere you'd prefer. If you said the word it would be done in seconds,
"It's lovely it's just...My ex-boss's wife owns it." You admitted, looking down at your hands and then at Chan who was frowning a little.
"Oh. How long ago did you leave?" He questioned, pulling you to the side of the door and watching you closely. He could sense that there was something more going on but you were reluctant to share it with him,
"Leave?" You scoffed a little and shook your head, leaving wasn't the right word since you'd practically been dragged out of that building for speaking facts.
"More like fired and today. I was up for a promotion and he gave it to the new girl he's got a thing for." You grumbled, folding your arms across your chest as Chan watched you closely, humming a little to himself.
"Hmm, I see."
"Yeah, I expressed my disdain for it and I was fired on the spot." You mumbled a little, rubbing the back of your neck as you probably sounded like a woman scorned but instead of judging you, Chan took your side.
"Hardly seems fair since you were already up for it."
"Life hates me today." You admitted with a low laugh, shaking your head as Chan opened the cafe door for you. There was no way he was going to let one silly woman ruin the evening he wanted to share with you.
"Trust me, no one will bother you while I'm here," He promised and even though you hadn't known him long you believed him.
As you entered the cafe, the air seemed to shift subtly and everyone turned to stare in your direction and Chan who simply nodded at the owner who hid away in the back room.
"She's not welcome." The woman stated but Chan led you toward a corner table near the large window and he smiled at you warmly.
"She's welcome anywhere," Chan stated as he turned around to face the woman whose face flashed a sign of something unreadable and she nodded, bowing a little to him.
It took almost three seconds for a server to rush over to the table, and take your orders without looking up at either of you. Chan's demeanour remained composed as he stared at you, 
"I'll take a hot chocolate," He spoke to the server but not once did his eyes leave yours as you smiled a little.
"Samr for me please," You said to the server who still hadn't looked at either of you before scurrying off behind the counter. 
Taking in a deep breath you look around the cafe taking in the silence, there was nothing but the soft clink of teaspoons or people whispering to one another,
"Are you famous, or something?" You whispered finally having enough of people staring in your direction and whispering to one another.
Chan was a little shocked, there weren't many people in Seoul who didn't know who he was and he loved that you didn't know, there was something interesting about it. Chan smiled at you and tried to think of something he could say. It wasn't like he could come right out and tell you that he was the towering figure of organised crime in Seoul and he couldn't lie and say he was famous since he wasn't an Idol or actor.
"Something like that," He chuckled as two mugs of hot chocolate were placed down on the table in front of you both and he looked at you. His heart fluttered a little as he watched you slowly take the cup into your hands and blow into the liquid that was obviously too hot but it was cute.
"So why else does the universe hate you? It can't just be because you got fired." Chan stated as he leant forward, he'd cancelled a meeting for this and he didn't want this to be a bust with you.
"Where do I even start?" You whined a little and leaned back on the chair, both of you falling into a conversation about how awful your day had been not noticing that time was getting away from you both.
Tumblr media
By the time you'd both realised what the time was it was dark out and you had missed calls from Kat, along with almost 24 texts asking for details about how it had all gone,
"I'll drive you to Kat's, I'm not letting you walk home. You never know who could be wandering the streets," Chan explained as he carefully took your arm in his and led you to the already waiting car. Chan knew what could be wandering the streets and that the most dangerous thing there right now was him but he helped you into the car and instructed Shadow to start driving.
"Thank you for tonight, I had fun." You admitted with a small laugh,
"Maybe the universe gave you such a shitty day so I could make it better," He winked at you sending tingles up and down your spine. All night your stomach had been in an eruption of butterflies and your heart couldn't stop fluttering,
"Maybe." You whispered unable to shake the tingle-feeling you felt all over your body.
"I'd love to do it again, on a day that hasn't been so bad for you," Chan admitted, one night with you wasn't enough and he selfishly wanted more from you than he was probably allowed.
"I'd love that too," You admitted, staring into his eyes as he smiled at you. Before you, he had been a man of very few words but tonight he'd spoken more than he thought he had in his life. His rough exterior was melting away easily thanks to you,
"I'll call you," He said as the car slowly came to a stop, your heart sinking as you realised it was time to come back to reality and remember all of these shitty things going on in your life.
"Sure," You whispered, sliding out of the car and heading toward the steps of Kat's apartment but you were stopped when a hand carefully took yours.
Without thinking your lips met in a collision of passion and softness, your lips wrapped around the back of his neck as you pulled him closer to you.
The kiss lingered until someone cleared their throat making you break apart and stare at Kat who was smirking down at you, her arms folded on her chest.
"I'll call you soon," Chan whispered before placing a small kiss on the top of your head heading back to the car and speeding off into the night. You were too high from the kiss to remember that you'd never given him your number or even your full name as you headed into the house to tell Kat all about your date. 
Tumblr media
In the span of almost four days, things had turned from the absolute worst to the best that they could have been. The day after your date with Chan you'd been offered your job back with a promotion and even your own office with a giganic pay rise which went along nicely with your new apartment that you'd found. You'd hardly been able to believe the place when you saw it and for the price it was at? It was a steal and you weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth with it. 
Your apartment building had its own doorman that greeted you every time you entered or left the building the place was stunning and your apartment was even better. 
There was a crystal chandelier that hung in the entrance, the whole place was a picture of elegance and sophistication it was incredible to see.
"Miss, Yln, Someone is here to see you." Your new assistant said snapping you from your daydream, you nodded at her and sent her a small smile before straightening yourself out.
"Send them in." She nodded and headed back to the office, you turned to look at your computer for a second to check over some last-minute emails when a news article popped up in the corner.
Body found floating in the Canal: Police believe the man found may be the Seoul Pusher they have been looking for. 
"Is that-" You were about to ask if it was the same man that had pushed you when the door opened and shut.
"I see things are going rather well for you," The voice sent shivers down your spine as you shot up from your chair. Standing there with all of the confidence in the world was Chan, he smirked at you as you took him all in. He was dressed in a tailored suit that showed off his broad shoulders and incredible physique and he looked hot. 
"Nice to see you again, I thought you'd never find me." You teased as he made his way over to your desk, taking a seat on the chair in front of it and smirking at you.
"I wanted to give it a few days, one of my men said a week but I wanted to see you." Chan wasn't afraid of admitting what he wanted and it was you, you had been all he'd thought about for the last four days and how badly he needed to see you again.
"I wanted to see you too," You whispered sitting on the edge of your desk directly in front of him, there was something about him that made you feel more confident whenever he was around you and you never wanted that to go away.
Chan's eyes slowly travelled up your body starting from your legs until he reached your face which was burning hot with how intently he'd been watching you.
"What can I do you for? Mr Bang." You'd found out his name after you'd tried to find his number and it had proven to be damn near impossible since he was one of the most powerful men in the city. Something that should have sent you to the hills screaming but instead it only excited you.
"Well, Miss Yln, I came to see, to kiss you, to take you out and woo you all over again." He stood up, your legs now spread to either side of his lips as he stood mere inches away from your face. Your breath caught on his lips as your heart raced intensely against your chest.
The office was now thick with tension as Chan stared down at you, the door was closed but the risk of the two of you being walked in on hung in the air. Your eyes met, exchanging a heated gaze that spoke volumes of the unspoken desires you'd been suppressing for days now. 
"So then kiss me," You barely had time to finish before Chan's hand gently cupped your face, the touch was tender and yet possessive at the same time. Your lips met together in a passionate kiss, the pent-up frustration you'd been holding onto for four days finally unravelled as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck.
Your fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, the chance someone could walk in and find you like this only heated things up more.
"I want you," You whispered to him against his lips as you pulled away for air, your hands tangling into his tie and pulling him closer.
"I'll pick you up later," Chan chuckled about to walk away but you shook your head and pulled him back to you by his tie.
"I want you now," You whispered as his cheeks began to flame, Chan was no stranger to a woman's body and he wanted you too, badly.
"But someone could walk in." He teased you, his fingers slowly running between your thighs as he felt your entire body shiver at the small touch.
"Or does that turn you on?" His voice grew deeper and more seductive as his fingers traced further up your leg until they were right next to your throbbing cunt.
"Knowing that someone might walk in and see you getting the best fuck of your life?" He bit down on your neck softly as you let out a small moan,
"P-Please. Four days I've been left needy," Chan's face burnt red as he thought back on it and a smirk began to take over his face.
"Oh? You didn't do anything to help yourself?" 
"Maybe...But nothing was good enough," You admitted before Chan chuckled darkly, his fingers slowly pressing against your clothed pussy and rubbing small circles as you mewled out his name a little too loudly making him freeze.
"If we're going to play this game here, you have to be quiet, little mouse." The nickname made you shiver as he slowly began to sink to his knees in front of you.
"I don't get on my knees for just anyone, Yn," He warns you before hooking his fingers around the band of your underwear and pulling them down. Before you can see what he's doing or ask him his mouth is on you, hot and wet as he wraps your legs around his shoulder trying to get himself closer to you.
"Oh...F-Fuck," You hiss out, your hands struggling to find something to grab onto as you knock some of the things off your desk onto the floor.
"C-Chan," Your voice came out in a whisper as he used his tongue slowly against you building you up as he ate you out like a man starved. How did he know exactly the right spots to hit for you? Your hands slowly moved to his hair as you pushed him deeper into you, grinding against his face a little as you moaned out. His rhythm didn't speed up or change as you moved your hips to meet him, he didn't stop even as his hand moved to thrust a finger into you. It wasn't long until your toes were curling and you were seeing stars as you came around his fingers and on his face.
"S-Shit," You hissed out as he continues to eat you out while you ride out your orgasm. 
Chan smirked as he stood in front of you, his cock prominent in the tight pants he was wearing you bit your lip, reaching out to rub him through his pants.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Yn?" He asks plainly, the corner of his lips tugging into a smirk.
"Yes." You smirked at him, your hands making quick work of the belt he was wearing as you undid it and pushed down the pants he was wearing. He was bigger than you were expecting him to be but you reached between you and took his cock into your hands gently rubbing him up and down as he let out a small groan.
"Do you have a condom?" You whispered to him, you didn't want to kill the mood but there was no way you were about to have unprotected sex with someone you barely knew. 
Chan took out of condom from his wallet and rolled it onto his long, hard and thick cock smirking down at you as you stared at him the whole time.
"You ready for me?" He whispers in your ear, biting down on your lobe as you nod at him, spreading your legs further apart. Chan eases into you slowly your eyes rolling back as you feel him hit the deepest parts of you.
"Oh shit," You moaned out unable to keep your voice down as he smirked at you, slowly pulling out only to slam back into you as you let out a scream of his name. Neither of you cared that people could hear you outside of your office.
"M-More," You begged as he began thrusting into you, harder and faster. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders as he fucked into you at a steady pace. You'd had sex before but this, this was ecstasy every single thrust sending you closer to the edge.
Everyone outside probably knew what you were doing but you didn't give a fuck,
"F-Fuck! Chan," You hissed out as his rhythm picked up your hands gripping onto him as your head fell onto his shoulder biting down on him,
"You're so tight baby, you close already?" He chuckled out through a moan as you clench around him tightly, cumming hard around him at his words. You couldn't hold back the scream anymore as you cried out his name, not even trying to stop yourself anymore.
"I wanna get fucked like she is," Someone said from outside of your office but Chan didn't care, he continued to pound into you as you felt yourself building up. There was no way he was going to make you cum again, not so close together and Chan grunts lowly. 
"So fucking hot, you like people hearing us?" He arches a brow at you as you whimper lowly, your mind already half gone thanks to the two orgasms he'd given you. 
"P-Please," You whispered needing another high from him as you bucked toward his hips, his fingers reaching down and playing with your clit. Chan pumps in and out of you ruthlessly and you cry out as you feel yourself at the edge once again.
"Cum for me, little mouse. I want to feel you cum around my cock," He groans in your ear, thrusting harder until you pushed right off the edge of the cliff cumming loudly around him and gripping onto his shoulders tightly.
Once Chan cleaned you up a little he smirked at you, running his hand gently over your cheek and kissing your lips softly.
"Let me drive you home," He whispered breathlessly, you glanced down at the time and shook your head, you still had a few hours left at work.
"I have to work." You admitted, pouting a little as you thought about going to work instead of going out with him.
"As the owner, I say you can go home," The sentence made you freeze as you turned to stare at Chan.
"Owner?" Your brow arched a little as you waited for him to answer, Chan suddenly felt as though he'd put his foot in his mouth but he nodded.
"Yeah, I've owned this place for years, never really bothered with it until now though."
"You're the reason I got the promotion?" Maybe it should have made you feel like you'd cheated your way out of it but you'd deserved it from the start,
"No. I'm the reason the woman who had it got fired and your sleazy boss. You got the promotion all on your own." He promised you, kissing your forehead softly and smirking as you grabbed your things from behind the desk.
"Does that mean I fucked my boss?" You wiggled your eyebrows at Chan who let out a deep chuckle.
"It was hot though," He winks as you kiss his jawline softly before the two of you head out of your office ignoring the looks you were getting from everyone else on the floor as you made your way to the elevators.
"I have a whole evening planned for you," Chan tells you as he snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him breathing in deeply as he relaxes with you.
"Fun, I'll text Kat and let her know I'll be out late," Kat had moved into the huge apartment with you since you had so much space for only one person.
"No need, she's out with a friend." He winks at you before you head down to the garage floor of your building.
Tumblr media
~Six Months Later~
"Excuse me, I think I remember your driver almost killing me? I don't think it's a romantic meet-cute at all," You teased Chan, he was bragging to his friends about the romantic way the two of you had gotten together and you weren't going to let him bullshit about it.
"Okay fine, but I took you on many romantic dates to make up for it!" He countered, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap, kissing you deeply as his friends around him groaned at the two of you.
"I thought the honeymoon phase would have ended." Kat groaned at you before you threw a pillow in her direction, hitting both her and her date - Minho before going back to kissing your boyfriend.
Tumblr media
@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @felixismybf @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp
530 notes · View notes
kittykattropicanna · 5 months
Note
would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.
Tumblr media
Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!! 
Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3  I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3
Tumblr media
TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3
PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist
Regular masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…
I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone. 
One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends. 
It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.  
This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage. 
He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly. 
The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..
Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well. 
He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be. 
He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence. 
Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment. 
These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour. 
It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt. 
But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?
I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?
Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”
You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful. 
First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary…. 
But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do. 
Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!
Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.
They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like. 
You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up. 
Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load. 
Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen
After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you 
Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost  Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years  Sentence ends: Year and a half  Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak. 
Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android. 
Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out. 
Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him….. 
So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..
I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(
Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter. 
When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed. 
But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”
I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key. 
Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man. 
But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)
After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter. 
“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”
His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle! 
You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…
Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :( 
When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(
“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)” 
And of course you did!! He asked so politely! 
Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((
You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(
You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body. 
After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for 
Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible. 
Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least
When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((
Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:( 
His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you 
He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((
You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3
Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(
He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(
That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.
Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise. 
You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!
Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(
Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real 
His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….
He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….
In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(
Tumblr media
Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)
!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)
Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune
Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors
Tumblr media
577 notes · View notes