#( i know you're determined for me to simply accept it one day )

[daybreakrising]

AAAAAaaaaa, LAURI!! Why did I follow? I would've gotten smitten by the gods of sanity and insanity alike if I waited any longer. I don't know why I waited, I genuinely don't— but I kick myself for it every day still, because you have been a total favorite since I followed you. I know our parents tell us that we shouldn't pick favorites in life, but to hell with that. Okay, okay, but wait, wait, I gotta get to the first part, well, first. I followed you because I'd seen you countless times through Charlie, and I'd always been fond of what I'd seen. I'd read your Beisht, your Wriothesley, I'd seen your Cyno, Razor, Beidou, a tiny little snippet of Blade (he was more recent muse!!) and numerous of your others, and I enjoyed what I saw, but I especially loved reading what you always wrote, your phrasing, your flow. There's such an... ease of eloquence to your writing that I love to read over, and over (and you know that I do). That was what struck me along with your portrayals— the inherent ease with which you write, Lauri.

And what kept me, I remember, was (before anything else) the promise of Menogias. But then came the foundation of what glued us together more firmly than anything else ever could, like damn Gorilla Glue: Kafblade. That's what really had me stay, this dynamic that I'm unsure I could ever write with anyone else anymore, simply because of how thoroughly you've engraved your Blade into my head, and Kafka's. I can't imagine writing her without him in my head as an intrinsic part of her now. But of course, not just that, I also stay for the promise of more dynamics, because you're a fantastic writer, one of my favorites, but that doesn't end at just the writer, that continues to the person. We mesh better than I could've anticipated, we mirror one another in salt, but even talking life with you comes so easily. So— I stay, because yes, you've become one of my favorites, and you can't escape me (or that reality). Suffer me always, please. <3

compulsory start to this reply of: sae what the f-

why do you always do this to me. you know i cannot handle compliments and yet you throw them at me endlessly pls i beg you i cannot take this

pls imagine me shaking you like that gif you frequently send to me when we talk kafblade. bc. i adore you even when you force me to accept nice things. i will, therefore, begrudgingly accept your compliments about my writing. but only bc it's you (charlie also gets away with it. enjoy your privileges)

ah, yes. the promise of menogias that we have yet to fully run with (yes, i'm calling you out again, but pls know i'm not serious, ilu). but seriously, 100% same. your kafka is so ingrained in my blade now that i just. it's always her.

and you're one of my favourites too <3 you earned that spot when you spent multiple days talking to me until 3-4am (sometimes even later bc we're insane-) about literally anything and everything. suffer ME always, please.

[thewitchblue]

"Do you mind if I sit there?"

You ask Damian innocently while gesturing to his lap. Damian raised a confused eyebrow at you. He was lounging on the couch of your apartment after breaking in despite him having a key. He said in confusion,

"That's my lap, beloved."

You give an acknowledging hum before saying,

"That's not an answer, lovebird."

Damian blushes but quickly looks away while murmuring,

"You...I...I suppose you may..."

You happily make your way to him and lie gently on top of him to feel his warm body against yours and close your eyes with a content smile, finally content in his lap. He slowly snakes his arms around your waist, shifting slightly to make you both more comfortable. You kiss his flustered cheeks with a soft smile on your face.

"Is this payback for breaking in instead of using the spare key you gave me?"

He asks after a moment of silence. Clearly, his brain was trying to wrap around why you suddenly wanted to lie on top of him. You shake your head with a fond smile on your face.

"You're more comfortable than the couch. I swear it's like your body heat is a heated blanket or a hot water bottle."

You look up to look at his face only to meet your very confused and very flustered boyfriend. You lightly kiss his chest before going back to cuddling him.

"I didn't realise you were cold. I would've given one of the hoodies you stole from me or a blanket."

You kiss his shoulder gently. You can tell that he's still getting used to the physical contact, but you're determined and patient.

"Am I not allowed to want to be in the arms of my darling boyfriend?"

You question with raised eyebrows. He blinked rapidly, as if he didn't expect that answer. It breaks your heart to think about all those years he lived without such love that he now overthinks every time you hold his hand or hug him. He continues inquisitively,

"Beloved, you have never once asked if you can lie on top of me."

You laugh, which makes his arms wrap tighter around you. Your hands rest on his chest as you relax against him. You admit softly,

"I like listening to your heartbeat. It's soothing, especially when I get anxious or stressed."

His hand traces patterns on your back while he kisses the top of your head. He asked,

"Did you have a stressful day?"

His concern melted your heart further. You shake my head, placing kisses along his collarbone.

"Despite finding out someone broke into my home only to discover it was my own boyfriend? Not really."

He clicks his tongue but gives into his laughter once yours starts. It's ridiculous, really, how cute he is. You softly say,

"You're so cute, lovebird."

His green eyes seem to gleam like emeralds in the warm lighting as he looks down at you. There was so much unfiltered love and adoration on his face that it leaves you breathless. He pouts, simply replying,

"Cute? I'm a trained assassin turned vigilante."

You click your tongue. You sarcastically reply,

"Oh yes, you have me quaking in fear."

His laughter rings through the otherwise silent apartment with your own laughter following shortly after. He gently flickers your nose with his fingers, making you bite said fingers lightly.

"I have taken down Superman by myself. You have every right to fear me."

You huff an amused laugh. Your eyelids are already starting to grow heavy as his warmth seems to be all-encompassing. It doesn't escape you that you're in probably the safest pair of arms in all of Gothem.

"Are you sleeping over, lovebird?"

You ask while you trace slow patterns on his chest, trying desperately to stay awake despite his calm heartbeat luring you closer and closer to sleep. His hum rumbles through his chest. You can tell he's torn between going back to the manor or staying the night with you. You are still a secret from his family. After a moment, he compromises,

"I'll stay until you fall asleep, beloved."

Pouting, you accept what you can get. You know his hero responsibilities call to him, but it was nice to have some time, just the two of you.

"I love you, Dami..."

You murmur, sleep slowly taking hold of you.

"I love you too, my treasure."

He whispers back to you as he runs his fingers through your hair. You soon subcome to sleep, knowing you're safe in the arms of your vigilante boyfriend.

[spidrgirl]

childhood best friends to lovers

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Pairing: Miles Morales 1610 x female reader !

Synopsis: miles being in love with you since you guys were kids.

Genre: fluff

Word count: 2361

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His earliest memory consists of the taste of cherry flavored blowpops, the scent of strawberry lotion and wild mango shampoo, and the feeling of your soft, warm lips pressed against his.

He remembers it as if it were yesterday. The two of you had been playing outside for what felt like hours while "The mothers" (as you guys had playfully called your mothers) scolded you for running in and out of the house.

After another trip of doing exactly that—going into the house for a drink of water and quickly running back outside—Rio stopped you two and gave you the choice of staying outside, or coming inside.

you smiled brightly and assured her that you would stay outside and play until you were finally ready to come in for the day.

"Of course tia," you had agreed, "we'll stay outside and play until it's curfew! We won't come in anymore, I promise!"

And with that, you grabbed Miles' hand and ran outside to the farthest end of your street, where the neighborhood park was.

"Betcha can't beat me in a race there and back," he taunted, pointing at a large pin oak tree that stood near the back of the park. It's dark green leaves slightly brightened by the glistening sun shining down on them.

"Can too!" you exclaimed, eagerly accepting his challenge.

Miles gave you a sly grin and ran to the sandbox, which was then quickly assigned to be the starting line, with you quickly chasing behind him, your hair blowing against your face in the soft breeze.

You perched yourself at the sandbox with Miles right next to you, ready to take off and kick his butt in what was sure to be another easy round of you beating him in a race.

"On your mark…" Miles said slowly, glancing over at you to make sure you were ready, his eyes flickering with something you couldn't quite determine but making you smile anyway.

"get set…"

"Oh, hurry up Miles!" You playfully groaned, rolling your eyes at his obvious trolling.

"GO!" Miles exclaimed, and the two of you took off running towards the pin oak tree,taunting and mocking each other the entire time.

"You're slow!" You shouted breathlessly.

"You're one to talk; you are literally reminding me of a turtle right now!" Miles shot back with another big smile, sprinting to the tree as fast as he could.

When he neared the tree, though, Miles slowed down and let you pass him up—not too obviously, but just enough to let you think that he had gotten tired or that you were simply too fast for him to beat.

The truth was, Miles was much faster and stronger than you and could have easily run the race, but he always let you take the first place trophy. He enjoyed seeing you brag about how fast you were or how good you were, knowing it was only possible because of his own loss.

Because of this, you won the race and wasted no time bragging about your well deserved and expected win, completely oblivious to the fact that he had let you win this time, and all the other times that came before this.

"Ha! I beat you, Miles; you owe me a soda!" You smiled at him, flashing a row of white baby teeth with the one on the side missing.

"Oh, please," he rolled his eyes playfully, "you cheated. I would've beat you but you ran before I even said go."

You laughed at his comment and slid down the tree's thick trunk to cool down, grateful for the shade the large branches and leaves provided against the relentless July heat. Beads of sweat were starting to form on your face from the heat waves rising from the hot asphalt, and you were almost certain you were going to die of "hotness."

"Whatever, you still owe me a soda." you cooed, letting out a deep sigh and resting your head on his shoulder, hot and tired from all that running you just did.

"I don't have a soda..but I got this," he said breathlessly, pulling a cherry blowpop from his pocket stowed away from earlier.

You took it from his fingers without another word and popped it into your mouth, immediately feeling a rush of dopamine from the sugary taste of the candy.

Miles gazed over at you, resting on his shoulder and mindlessly sucking on the blowpop, silently taking the chance to admire your beauty. Even though you were just an eight-year-old girl, you were already so beautiful, and this was something everyone seemed to know but you.

Miles was reminded of this fact whenever he took the chance to sneakily take longing looks at your soft pink lips, long dark eyelashes, iridescent eyes, and that soft hair that always seemed to glow in the sun. He loved all these small details about you, but was too young to understand what this meant to him yet. So he kept them to himself, storing it for later.

A while later, you lifted your head from his shoulder, and although it was plenty hot outside, he immediately missed your warmth. He wanted you to rest on him again, perhaps come even closer, but he wouldn't press the issue.

He thought of you and what he wanted for a quick moment before he was snapped out of his thoughts when you looked up at him with a soft smile and asked him if he thought that you guys would be friends forever.

"Of course we will. We are best friends forever, remember?" He replied, fanning his flushed face.

"Yeah, but what if we get older and make new friends? You'll probably forget all about me and have way more fun with them." You countered, eyes wide, with the thought of growing up without your best friend.

"But I wouldn't, cause you're my number one girl for life. I would make other friends, but they would never come close to me as close as you are to me. I promise." He said.

As if to emphasize his words, he leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, almost feather-light, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You felt a strange fluttering in your chest, like butterflies were trapped inside. You didn't understand what was happening, but it felt nice.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, he leaned in even closer. His lips were just inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. Time seemed to stand still as you waited for him to make his move, but you were unsure of what that move was yet.

And then he kissed you.

His lips were soft and warm against yours, and they sent a rush of heat through your entire body. He remembered the taste of the cherry-flavored lollipop on your lips and the softness and warmth of your skin. Time seemed to stand still as you kissed under the shade of the tree, the soft summer air caressing your skin.

He inhaled the scent of what was sure to be shampoo, its sweet, fruity smell making him only want to smell more of it. He counted to five in his head because it's what he had seen all the other kids do in the movies when they kissed, and when he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your cheeks flushed from the heat and the kiss. He smiled down at you, his amber eyes sparkling in the sunlight with something he was sure to love.

And this is when he knew that he was in love with you.

...

Now, eight years later, when he was sixteen and you were fifteen and a half --you always liked to point out whenever Miles teased you for your age difference--,Miles couldn't help but wonder if you remembered that day.

Did you remember the feeling of his lips on yours? The feeling of his skin pressing against yours? The sweet, innocent smiles that happened after that kiss?

Miles couldn't help but think of that moment as he lay on his bed, the sunlight streaming in through the window casting a warm glow across your face. Your hair was spread out around you like a halo of gold, and your eyes were closed as you lay on your stomach, lazily flipping through a fashion magazine.

He couldn't help but stare at you. Since you had gotten older, you had started to fill in nicely. Places where you weren't so curvy back then had started to fill in, and he couldn't help but take in every detail—every curve of your body, every freckle on your skin.

When he looked at you like this, he just knew he wanted to kiss you again. No, he didn't want to kiss you again, he needed to kiss you again. To feel your lips against his, to taste your sweet breath on his tongue.

"What do you think about this dress?" you asked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. He blinked, coming back to reality, and forced a smile. "It's really pretty," he mumbled, trying to focus on what you were saying, although his mind felt scattered with thoughts he knew he shouldn't have.

You smiled back at him, and in that moment, he felt like everything was alright. He felt like he could forget about kissing you and how much it hurt to be so close to you yet so far away. He felt like he could finally breathe.

But then you leaned over to pick up your water bottle, and as you did, your shirt rose up just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin at your hip. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make his heart race and his palms grow sweaty. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his own.

"So, do you think I should get my nails done in that color?" You continued, gesturing to a pretty shade of pink on the page of the magazine. The pink had reminded him of that one hello kitty girl you liked, my Melanie? but he didn't have time to think about it for too long before he forced himself to look at the page and focus on your words.

But all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again, to feel the softness of your lips against his. He swallowed hard, trying to clear his throat. "Um, yeah, that color would look really good on you," he managed to say. "You should totally do it."

Sensing the tension in the air, you look up at him and find him staring back at you with something that can only be described as love in his eyes. A blush crept up on your face, and you tried to clear your throat. The tension between you was growing thicker as you both struggled to maintain eye contact.

Finally, you decide to break it, glancing down at your magazine and pretending to focus on the pictures. "Well, I guess I'll have to ask Mom what she thinks."

Miles nods, pretending not to notice the awkwardness between you. "Yeah, maybe you should." He mumbles, swallowing hard, feeling the urge to reach out and touch you growing stronger by the second. He forces himself to stay still and focus on anything but these feelings, though.

The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. You both know what happened, you both felt things that neither of you were sure were supposed to be felt, but neither of you dared to acknowledge them. It's as if you're both afraid that if you say anything, it will make it real, make it permanent.

But Miles couldn't take this anymore. He needed you, and he knew what he needed to do in this moment.

Miles clears his throat, looking away from you for a moment, focusing on a spot across the room. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. Then, without warning, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours.

It's a soft kiss at first, tentative and unsure, but as you respond, your fingers softly trailing up his shoulders and your lips meeting his exactly how they needed to, it becomes something else.

His hands find their way to your face, cradling your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. You taste like cherry lip gloss and it instantly reminds him of the cherry blowpop flavored kiss the two of you had shared years ago.

But now, the two of you were older. Kissing meant more than just some innocent, childlike crush thing. Kissing meant more, and in this moment, he knows that he's never wanted anything more than to be able to taste you, to feel your lips against his, to breathe in the scent of your mango shampoo-scented hair.

You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, but he still holds you close to him. Savoring the closeness between you two, he whispers sweet things against your lips, whispering all of the things he's been wanting to say since he was eight years old.

"I love you, like, really, love you" he whispers, his eyes closed and his fingers tracing your cheeks and sliding up into your hair, gently touching the soft strands.

I love you too, Miles. I always have" You mumble back, your hands resting on his shoulders and your lips still softly brushing against his.

You pull away for real this time, slowly opening your eyes and seeing something you've never seen before. You see a depth of an emotion that you didn't even know existed. You see love. Not the puppy-love of your childhood, but the mature, true love that only comes from years of knowing someone and realizing just how much they mean to you.

So, you kiss him again. This time, with a passion that Miles knows he'll be getting for the rest of his life.

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tags::

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Warnings: Dark!Stepbrother!Coriolanus Snow, Bigot General Crassus Snow, Implied child abuse, cussing, obsessive behavior, smut. AU of sorts.

When your mother started dating some war hero general, you didn't think much of it. Your mother's dated men, mostly officers, over the years and nothing ever came of it. So when your mother announced that Crassus proposed and she said yes, you nearly had a stroke.

Your older brother, Rein, had signed up for the peacekeepers the very next day. You think it was to get the hell out of the house, since Crassus Snow had a reputation of being a very cold, stern, and cruel man.

Not that you knew much about him. But you kind of knew his son. Well, you didn't know Coriolanus, but you went to the Academy with him.

Little did you know, Coriolanus has been secretly watching you ever since his balls dropped and his voice changed. He always thought that you were a beautiful little dove. His darling rose. He had a crush *cough* obsession *cough* with you, but would only watch you from afar.

His group of friends (rich asshole kids he had to play nice with) weren't the type of people that would accept you. You weren't from one of the great Capitol families.

But, despite not being able to be seen with you, he was determined that one day he'd have you pinned down on his bed.

How he planned on doing that if he never talks to you, well, who knows…

So, when Crassus Snow told his son that he was getting married to your mother, well, Coriolanus was over the moon. He was finally going to be able to fulfill his fantasies; pin you down on his mattress and fuck you into it until you begged for mercy.

The day after he found out you were going to be his new stepsister, he approached you at the Academy. You were talking with one of your friends, waiting for classes to start, in the main hallway. He felt that now was the perfect time to introduce you to the right friend circle to have; to claim you as his own too.

“Why isn't it Y/N Halvir, my new stepsister.”

“Your mother's marrying his father? Oh, I feel so bad for you…” Your friend whispered so only you'd be able to hear her.

Giving Coriolanus a fake smile, you simply greeted him with, “Hi, Coriolanus. Shouldn't you be with your own friends?”

“I’m actually here to take you with me so that you can meet them, now that you're a Snow.” Coriolanus replied, his icy eyes taking in every inch of you.

“Our parents aren't married yet, I'm nothing to you, but your classmate at the moment.” You reminded him, since he's never shown interest in you before; doesn't need to either since your parents’ are still planning the wedding.

Well Crassus’ mother, your soon to be new Grandma’am, was planning it while her son was footing the bill. You hope she doesn't pick out some frilly, gaudy, girly puffball of a dress for you to wear.

Coriolanus gave you a smile that was all pearly whites and sickeningly sweet. “Dear sweet stepsister, in time they'll be married, and I just want to introduce you to my friends.”

Your friend noticed the glint in Coriolanus' icy eyes and was afraid for you. She didn't know much about him, but he always intimidated her. Gave her the creeps for some reason she couldn't pinpoint. Your friend looked between you and your soon to be stepbrother, hoping that he'd just leave you alone.

Sadly, that didn't happen.

Coriolanus' large hand grabbed your arm, his long fingers wrapping tightly around it like tentacles. He leaned in close, so close that his breath was fanning your face, and gritted through his perfect teeth, “You're going to be a Snow, Y/N, so you need to start acting like it. The first step is to let me give you friends that are worthy of the Snow name.”

Your heart raced and you felt fear bloom in your chest. You nodded at him, giving into his will.

Coriolanus smirked when you turned to your friend and told her you were going with Coriolanus.

You were his now. His, and he’s never letting go.

Integrating yourself into the Snow family was easier said than done. First, you were stuck moving into their 12th floor Corso penthouse right away. Right away being mere days after the engagement was announced.

Your mother was so happy to be living in the grand penthouse, but you missed your old apartment.

At least your old, albeit smaller, apartment was warm and felt lived in. The Snow penthouse was cold and felt dead despite its large size and grand decor.

“Coriolanus, show your new sister to her room.” Crassus sternly ordered his son while standing in front of the fireplace in the main room, sipping tea.

Your mother and Grandma’am, Coriolanus’ grandmother, were sitting in chairs around a glass star shaped coffee table, sipping on tea and hot chocolate. Grandma'am was the one with the hot chocolate.

Grandma’am and your mother seemed to get along well, while Crassus didn't seem to care.

Hell, the general had a scowl on his face and looked a bit miserable.

You wondered if Coriolanus would grow up to be like his father since he already looked like him.

“Yes, father.” Coriolanus nodded. Grabbing your hand and leading you away from the adults, he said, “You'll be in Tigris' old room, little dove.”

“Who's Tigris?” You innocently asked.

“My cousin; she moved out into her own apartment not long ago.” He explained, dragging you down the hall.

You knew what Coriolanus truly meant. His cousin left after his father announced the engagement with your mother.

“My older brother just joined the peacekeepers, so it looks like we both had some family move out.”

Coriolanus stopped at a door, only to push it open and drag you inside of the room. “Mark my word, sweet stepsister, father will be pushing for your brother to take an officer's aptitude test as soon as he's eligible.”

“I don't see why, Rein's not his son.” You told the blonde as he let go of your hand and flipped on the light switch.

The room was spacious. The only furniture in it was a bed, a nightstand, and a desk with a chair. The bed linens were simple too.

The room felt more like a guestroom then a room that had once belonged to somebody in the Snow family.

Maybe it was the lack of personal decorations that made the room feel so lifeless?

But wasn't that to be expected considering Tigris has vacated the room; took any decorations and personal touches with her.

Coriolanus guided you over to the bed. “Not by blood, but as soon as our parents marry, your brother will be another son of Crassus Snow.” You both sat down on the soft mattress. You felt as if his blue eyes were studying you, taking you in like a fine piece of art, as he explained, “Being a part of the prestigious Snow family, Rein will have certain expectations to stand up to now, as do you.”

“I didn't sign up for this, Coriolanus.” You shook your head. Staring at a wall, you bitterly remarked, “My mother decided to marry Crassus, but I didn't know that meant I'd have to be some perfect, rich military brat.”

“Yes, well, we just have to make the best of our circumstances.” Coriolanus told you, his voice a bit crisp and tight. His large, pale hand heavily rested on your thigh. His face got dangerously close to yours, causing his breath to warm your skin. His icy eyes flashed with a fire as he smirked, “At least you have me to guide you, ensure that you're perfect.”

Your heart was racing wildly in your chest. Was your soon to be stepbrother coming on to you?

No. He couldn't be.

He couldn't.

Could he?

But before you could find out, Coriolanus was called by his father to help show the movers where to place your things.

Leaving you alone in your room with a million different thoughts swimming in your head.

Not long after moving into the Snow penthouse, you were asked out on a date by Sejanus Plinth. He was very cute and sweet. Plus he came from a good family.

And you accepted, much to Coriolanus' horror.

Dinner that night was interesting, to say the least.

“But father, you can't let her go out with him. He's district.” Coriolanus protested after hearing Crassus approve of your date plans for the following night.

Grandma'am’s wrinkled face shook with worry. “Coriolanus is right, Crassus. The district boy might hurt her. He’s not Capitol blood; he's not civilized despite living amongst us.”

“Sejanus is a sweet boy. I’ve heard only good things about him from Mrs. Plinth.” Your mother smiled in between daintily eating her spoonful of soup.

Correction, not soup, but a tomato lobster cream bisque that was the first of 4 courses. Which also included a desert.

Yea, dinners were a lavish affair in the Snow household. But since Crassus had a cook on staff, you guess they could be.

Coriolanus’ jaw twitched at your mother's words. He felt that she was foolish for taking the words of a district woman to heart. That she shouldn't be encouraging you to go out with that dirty district dog just because his mother- no his ma, said he's a sweet boy.

He's district and anyone with a drop of district blood in them hated those born and bred in the Capitol. Even those who were district transplants that were allowed into the Capitol as a reward for making their fortunes from betraying the blood of their own couldn't be trusted. No, not when their blood wasn't pure, but was tainted.

Sejanus Plinth, although living in the Capitol and being from a filthy rich family, was and always will be a filthy, dirty blooded, district dog. He was undeserving of you. Infact, even a boy from the Capitol was undeserving of you.

Because you deserve nothing, but the best. You were a part of the Snow family, so only the best for you.

And that was him.

Coriolanus was the best. The only one worthy of you.

He knew it was taboo, forbidden even, but he didn't give a fuck.

Coriolanus was going to have you and his father approving of your date with that damn district born Plinth boy wasn't going to stop him.

General Snow reached for his goblet of wine, only to announce in a deep, authoritative tone, “I've given my approval of Y/N’s date with Sejanus Plinth, so all protests of it will stop.” Giving his son a hard look, Crassus cruelly remarked, “Coriolanus, son, perhaps you should find a girl to entertain yourself with instead of your studies. I wonder about you sometimes, if you even like girls at all.” An evil glint appeared in the light blonde general's cerulean eyes. “Perhaps you'd rather go out with the Plinth boy tomorrow night instead of sending Y/N.”

The room went deadly silent. One could hear a pin drop.

“Crassus…” Grandma’am shook her pearl encrusted turbin covered head at her son. Her blue eyes were full of disappointment.

Your mother didn't say a word, just kept eating her soup. If she felt bad, well she didn't show it. Her grey eyes were glued to her spoon, as if the liquid in it was the most fascinating thing she's ever seen.

Coriolanus flew up off his chair, causing it to loudly clatter to the floor, and stormed out of the dining room.

“Coriolanus!” You called out after him, rising from your own chair with the intention to follow after him.

You felt bad for Coriolanus, for what his father said at the supper table. It was uncalled for. It was disgusting and rude. He was trying to shame and embarrass his son, it wasn't right.

Before you could even make it an inch away from the table, your future stepfather rose from the table and rounded on you. Roughly grabbing your wrist, he coldly said, “Let him sulk like the weakling he is. Sit down, Y/N, and finish your first course.”

Everything inside of you screamed to listen to Crassus, to just sit down and eat that damn tomato-lobster bisque, but your need to run to Coriolanus, to make sure that he was alright, won out. You don't even know why, but you seemed drawn to your future stepbrother. You couldn't just abandon him to wallow in misery by himself.

You wretched your arm out of the general’s cold, tight hold. Looking up at him, you said, “I'm not hungry anymore, Crassus.”

“You'll address me as father now, you little brat.” Crassus ordered, towering over you. The imposing war hero looked ready to kill. It seems that nobody has ever stood up to him before, but always fell in line with his command.

You nodded and went to turn around, only for your ‘father’ to grab your wrist once more in a tight hold. His grip on your small wrist was so hard that you could feel the bones squeezing painfully together.

He twisted your arm behind your back, making your wrist flare as if it was on fire while the rest of your arm threatened to snap like a twig, and spin you around to look at the table.

Crassus' voice was deep and full of cruelty as he told you, “Take a good look at your soup, dearest daughter, because your serving will be given to the Avox.”

Your eyes looked at the table, but not at the soup. No, you looked at the pair of women seated at it. Silently, you begged them to help you. Sadly, they wouldn't.

No…

Your mother was too preoccupied with her bowl of soup, or maybe she was afraid of crossing her future husband. And Grandma'am, oh the elderly woman just gave her son a pitiful look, but wouldn't dare speak up against him.

“In fact, for your insubordination you'll starve tonight.” You heard your mother's fiance chuckle cold-heartedly.

Crassus shoved you to the side, causing you to hit the ground with a loud thud. The force of your side colliding with the hard marble floor knocked the wind out of you. So much so, that you didn't even hear the sound of large, loud footsteps hurrying over to you as you weakly pushed yourself up.

You felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm, but the touch was different than before. The long fingers weren't bruising around you, but surprisingly gentle with their lithe hold.

You felt yourself being lifted up to stand on your own two feet as Crassus seethed at his son, the one helping you, “Coriolanus, take that bitch with you and keep her all night. I don't want to see either one of your disrespectful faces until morning.”

Coriolanus’ eyes were full of icy hate as he curtly nodded at his father. Without a word, he ushered you away from the dining room.

Sadly, he'd have to teach you that General Crassus Snow likes his children to be seen and not heard. That he enjoyed slinging out biting, stinging remarks to cut down his children. That he was worse then the devil to deal with. That life could either be hell or something worse then hell with the Snow patriarch.

Coriolanus Snow would teach you how to navigate life under his father's roof because you're his.

Yes, your mother might be marrying his father, but nevertheless you are his and therefore he must protect you.

“What did you do to make him lash out?” Coriolanus asked, sitting with you on his bed.

His room, you discovered, was sparsely decorated. Just like yours, all he had was a bed, a nightstand, a desk and chair. A couple of portraits hung on the walls, and a few trinkets were stacked on the window sill. Oh, and a couple of pictures frames and small items were on his desk, overlooking his school books and papers.

But, all in all, it felt as empty as your room did.

Damn…

This house was cold and empty, full of nothing but sorrow and hate it seemed.

And your mother willingly brought you here.

Fuck your life…

“I got up from the table to follow you; make sure that you were okay.” You honestly told Coriolanus, listening to the sound of his father yelling at your mother about how unmannered you were.

Oh, and they were still in the dining room.

Yea…

That's how loud Crassus was.

Biting your bottom lip, you looked at the boy with platinum curls that you were stuck with for the night, and told him, “Thank you for coming back and helping me, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Y/N, my darling, you belong to me. I'll always come back for you, help you when in danger.”

Before you could even ask him what he meant by belonging to him, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. It caught you off guard. You honestly weren't expecting his lips to be so lush, so soft. And you definitely weren't expecting him to kiss you.

He's going to be your stepbrother soon.

For Christ's sake!

He's going to be your stepbrother!

That revelation caused you to place your hands on his chest and gently push him away, while leaning your head back to break the one-sided kiss. You looked into his icy blue eyes, only to see something dark swimming in them.

Correction: not something dark, but lust.

“What's wrong, Y/N? Why did you push me away?” He asked, voice heavy with wonder. Lust blown baby blue eyes never leaving yours.

“You're going to be my stepbrother soon, Coriolanus. We can't kiss and stuff, it's not right.”

“Oh, darling, we're not blood related, so it's perfectly fine for us to kiss and to fuck.” Coriolanus assured you with a whisper in your ear. His breath was hot against your cheek as he confessed, “I've been watching you at the Academy for years, my little dove. Fucking my fist every night to fantasies of you and now that I have you with me, well, Y/N, I'm not ever letting you go.”

“You've liked me for that long?” You asked in bewilderment.

He couldn't have liked you for so many years, only to never make a move.

Could he?

It just didn't seem possible.

“Mhm…” Coriolanus hummed, only to nip at a spot right below your ear. “You've consumed my thoughts since we were 13, my darling rose.”

What? He's had a crush on you since you were 13?!

Like what?....

He's liked you for that long and never said a word? Never made a move, until now?

Wow…

“Corio-” You began, only for him to sigh and cut you off with, “Please, call me Coryo.”

Nodding, you turned your head slightly so you could look at him. “Coryo, you should've told me how you felt years ago.” Your eyes flickered to his hand, that had found its way on your thigh, and back up to his baby blues. “It's too late to do anything about it now. Our parents are getting married and I'm Sejanus' girlfriend now.”

Coriolanus did not like that remark. Oh no, he didn't like it one bit.

You're NOT Sejanus' girlfriend!

You're his girl, you belonged to him. Hell, you're part of the family now too.

His, his, his!

You're his and he's going to show you.

“You don't belong to him, Y/N. You’re mine.” Coryo darkly declared, only to kiss you.

He kissed you with so much fervor. He was a man possessed as his lips slid against yours. Kisses you as if you were the air he needed to breathe.

This time you didn't push him away. Instead, your lips moved against his. Your hands tightly fisted his shirt; pulling him closer as your lips clashes with his.

Coriolanus pushes you onto your back, causing you to let out a surprised gasp. He used your shock to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth.

His hand caressed the inside of your thigh as his tongue explored your mouth. Tasting you as if you're the sweetest treat.

Your hands ran up his chest and snaked around his neck as your tongue flickered against his, causing you both to moan. As your tongues began an intimate dance, his other hand found its way to your neck.

You pulled away slightly, catching your breath as your lips hovered close to his.

“Coryo.” You breathlessly moaned, feeling his long fingers brush against your soaking wet panties.

“You're so wet for me, darling.” He smugly told you. “You need me, don't you?” He asked, even though he knew that your entire being aches for him at this very moment.

Coryo wanted, no needed, to hear you tell him that you wanted him to fuck you dumb. That only he could take away the ache in your cunt.

Him, the very reason for your wet pussy.

“Coryo…we can't…” You weakly protested as your core aches with a fiery desire. One that you've never felt so fiercely before.

Or at least until now.

“We can, little dove.” He told you, using his fingers to slip your panties to the side. The air hitting your wet pussy causes you to shudder.

Your reaction has him smirking. Pulling your legs open wide for him, he announced in a dark, lustful tone, “I'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna like it, Y/N.”

Breaking eye contact with him as his hands ran over the insides of your spread thighs, you confessed, “I've never done this before, Coryo.”

“You’re a virgin.” Coriolanus stated, not asked. He knew you’ve never been fucked before. He would've known if you had since he stalked looked after you from afar for years.

“Yea…” You trailed off, blushing in embarrassment.

God, your skirt was bunched up and your legs were spread wide open, like a whore in heat, with your panties pushed aside exposing your dripping tight hole to your step brother. And here you were, blushing at having to confirm that you're a virgin.

Coryo took a sick pleasure in you being embarrassed about your innocence despite the wanton state he had you in.

“Don't worry, your stepbrother's going to change that.”

“God, Coryo, don't call yourself my stepbrother while my legs are spread for you. It's dirty.”

“And you're my dirty little slut because your cunt’s drooling and clenching around the air from my dirty words.” Coriolanus taunted as his hands rested on either side of your pussy, thumbs spreading open the lips to expose your tight dripping hole to him. “Oh, darling, you've got such a pretty pussy for me.” He cooed, dipping his head down between your spread legs

“Oh god…” You shakily moan, feeling Coryo lick a thick stripe up your cute with his hot, wet tongue.

You could feel him smirking against you before his tongue flickered your clit.

“Coryo.” You moaned as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it.

He smacked the inside of your thigh, only to lift his head away from your pussy and hiss, “Shut up, bitch. Don't wanna get caught, do we?”

“Sorry, it just felt really good.” You apologized, your voice tinted with need.

“You're forgiven, darling, but don't be loud again or else I won't prep you. I'll just fuck you face first in my pillow to muffle your screams and call it a night.” He told you, making new gush of wetness spill out of your pussy. “Oh, looks like me fucking you face first in the mattress turns you on, stepsister.” Coryo darkly chuckled, his breath hot against your aching core. “Don't worry, I'll do that to you, but not tonight. Tonight's your first time and I don't want to hurt my girl. I want to swallow your moans of pleasure, not muffle your moans of pain.” He told you before placing his mouth back on your dripping cunt.

“Mmmm….” You bite your lip, preventing your moan from being too loud, as Coriolanus sucked on your clit.

Your hands found their way into his platinum curls as his tongue teased your tight, wet hole. His thumbs let go of your pussy lips as his mouth latches onto your cunt, tongue messily lapping thru your folds. His hands grabbed onto your thighs, spreading them even wider.

Painfully wider.

But you couldn't help, but curl your toes into the mattress as his icy blue eyes pierced into your soul. He looked at you with such hunger as he messily ate you out.

It was as if he craved you; couldn't get enough of you.

As if he was starved and you're the only meal he's eaten in days.

Your hands tightened in his hair as you felt his tongue enter your hole, fucking you.

“Coryo…more…” You begged, for what you didn't quite know, as your chest began to heave up and down heavily.

Coriolanus knew exactly what you needed.

You needed your tight cunt filled and fucked.

And he was going to give you exactly what you needed.

He wrapped his lips around your clit sucking it harshly, as he slipped his middle finger into your pussy.

Coriolanus moaned at how tight your hole clenched around his long fingers. The tightness of your virgin cunt clenching around his digits had him rock hard and grinding into his mattress. Fuck, he couldn't wait to have his cock inside your tight pussy. Stretching it to its limit, making it fit around his large cock.

“Coryo…feels so good…” You panted as he fucked you with his finger while sucking on your clit.

He smirked against your clit, only to add his pointer finger into your cunt. He curled his long fingers up inside your slick walls, causing you to writhe in pleasure every time he hit that spongy spot deep inside of you.

“I-I think…” You trailed off, biting your lip to keep a moan from spilling out, as you felt pressure build up in your lower belly.

“You think you're gonna cum?” Coryo supplied for you, his breath hot on your cunt, as he began to piston his fingers deep inside of you. He knew you were close by how tight your cunt was squeezing his fingers. He couldn't wait until it was squeezing his cock.

“Yea.” You squeakily nodded.

“I want you to cum on my face like the little slut you are. Can you do that for me, darling?” Coriolanus told you, his voice raspy and thick with lust, before dipping his head back between your spread legs and sucking your clit.

“Please…make me cum, Coryo. Please, so close…” You begged, causing him to fuck his fingers up into furiously while sucking hard and fast on your clit.

He needed to taste your juices spilling out onto his chin, needed to feel your pussy tightening around his fingers. He craved it like the headmaster at the Academy craved a fix of morphling.

Your toes curled tightly in the sheets and your nails scratched Coryo's scalped as you came with the sound of his name on your lips.

He slowed his movements just enough to help you ride out your high. His tongue greedily lapped up every bit of your juices that came squirting out of your pussy.

Your hands fell out of his curls as you began to calm down from your high. You couldn't help, but smile at how messy his hair looked as a result of you pulling on it.

When Coryo pulled his fingers out of you and sat up, sucking them clean, you were horrified to see that his chin was glistening, that your juices were dripping down his chin and onto his neck. Your cheeks flushed red and you quickly sat up, trying to clean the wetness from his chin. “I'm so sorry, I-” You attempted to apologize, only to be cut off by Coryo chuckling, “Don't apologize, darling. You squirting all over my face turns me on.”

“Really?” You asked, eyes wide with shock.

“Really.” He nodded, grabbing your hand that you used to wipe his chin with. Bringing your palm up to your face, he huskily ordered, “Now taste yourself.”

You blinked, feeling your pussy begin to pool and ache again, only to obey Coryo’s command and lick his hand clean.

The taste of yourself was a bit sweet and tangy. It was also intoxicating.

Standing up and pulling you up with him, Coryo said, “We need to get undressed.”

“Okay.” You nodded, feeling a bit nervous despite having just had Coriolanus’ platinum blonde head between your legs mere moments ago.

You went to grab the hem of your dress, only to have Coryo bat your hands away and grab it himself. “Lift your arms up, darling.” You nodded and did what you were told. Quickly, he pulled your dress off and tossed it to the side. “Take your bra and panties off.” He instructed while quickly working to unbutton his shirt.

Coriolanus’ lust blown eyes were glued to you as you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. He felt his breath hitch as you took off your simple, white lace bra.

“Oh, little dove, your tits are perfect.” He cooed while removing his shirt and tossing it to the side.

You shook your head, only to look down at the floor and sigh, “No they're not, Coryo. You don't have to say that.”

Being nearly 18, you're self conscious about your boob size. Especially since you didn't seem to be as developed as the most popular girl in school. The girl that every boy (well, maybe not every boy since Coriolanus was half naked in his room with you) wanted to fuck. The perfect, pretty, popular, dirty blonde with jewel tone eyes.

Livia Cardew.

Coryo had just toed off his shoes and unbuckled his belt when your self doubt caused him to stop undressing. He closed the small space between you and reached his hands out to grab your tits.

You shyly bit your lip as he squeezed them. “Your tits are perfect because I say so, my darling.” Coriolanus huskily told you as the pad of his thumbs roughly ran over your nipples.

“But I'm not-” You began to protest, a feeble attempt at explaining your thoughts, only for Coryo to cut you off with, “Shut up, I told you that I think your tits are perfect.” He roughly squeezed them. “As long as I say they're perfect, little dove, then they are.” He declared before bending his head and taking one of your, now pebbled, nipples into your mouth.

The feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipples while his fingers tweaked your other one has you rubbing your thighs together, seeking friction to relieve that growing ache between your legs.

Letting go of your nipple with a wet pop, his lust filled blue eyes bore into yours as he orders, “Unzip and pull my pants off, Y/N.”

“Okay.” You nodded before doing as you're told with shaky hands, all the while Coryo was biting and nipping at a spot on your left boob.

You knew he was leaving a hickey there and, for some reason, it turned you on. The idea of him marking you as his made something flare up in you.

You've never had somebody want you before, but Coryo wants you so much that he's putting his mark on you. Staking his claim.

Coryo pulled his head up off your chest as his pants pooled around his long legs. Stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, he smirked, “You should take your panties off. But put your kitten heels back on, I want to fuck you in them.”

“Okay.” You nodded, pulling down your lace white panties while watching him pull off his socks.

You bent over and grabbed your shoes from the floor. Putting on your black kitten heels, your eyes popped out of your head as you watched him pull down his boxers only for his big cock to spring free and slap up against his lower stomach. You've never seen a cock before, but you knew his was big. It was long and girthy. Must be at least 8 inches, had veins on the underside and an angry red head that's tip was leaking precum.

You felt yourself gushing just from looking at it. Oh my God, how is that going to fit inside of your pussy.

“Don't worry, it'll fit.” Coryo assured you, a proud grin on his angular face.

What the hell? Did you say that out loud about him not being able to fit? Oh hell…you must've.

Taking your hand in his large one, he brought you over to the bed. “Lay down and spread your legs as wide as you can for me.” He instructed.

Nodding, you quickly laid on the bed and spread your legs for him. Your knees slightly bent, kitten heels slightly digging into the mattress.

“Fuck, your pussy’s so perfect.” Coriolanus swore while kneeling onto the bed, right between your shaking thighs. “Perfect and all mine.” He said while using his thumb to smear his precum around his cockhead. He began to give himself a few shallow pumps, to coat his cock with his precum, as you stared up at him with anticipation dancing in your eyes.

“You want me, Y/N?” Coriolanus asked, lining his dick up with your pussy. “Once I have you, take your virginity, I'm not letting you go.” He told you, teasing his cock thru your wet folds. “I fuck you and you're mine forever. You understand me, my darling rose?” He seriously asked, giving you a last minute opportunity to back out, as his dick bumped your clit.

Your hands held onto his shoulders as you looked him square in his icy blue eyes and confidently said, “Make me yours, Coryo. I want to be yours.”

That was the sweetest thing he ever heard. You begging him to make you his. Saying that you wanted to be his.

Coriolanus was in heaven.

He dipped his head down and captured your lips in a quick, but needy kiss before lining his tip up with your tight hole. He leaned his forehead against yours as he surged forward, pushing his length inside of your tight walls.

Your nails clawed at him and your eyes teared up at the stinging sensation of being stretched wide open on his large cock for the first time in your life. You bite your lip, swallowing back a cry, as your walls struggled to accommodate his large cock.

Coryo was about halfway in whenever he brushed away a stray tear rolling down your cheek. “You're taking me so well.” He praised. Kissing your cheek, he said, “Just a little bit more, Y/N. I know you can handle it. You cunt's made for my cock.”

“It stings, Coryo.” You gritted out, feeling him pop your cherry before sliding the rest on the way in and bottoming it.

“I know, it does. I know it does, darling.” The platinum blonde told you in a feeble attempt to soothe away your pain. With a proud smile, he pointed between you and said, “Look, a perfect fit.”

You looked down to see that he had disappeared inside of you; the only evidence of his cock being the outlining bulge in the bottom of your tummy. You ran your fingers over the outline in awe, causing your-hell you don't know what to call him right now except for Coryo, to shudder blissfully.

Bringing his large hand to cover yours as it traced over his bulge in your tummy, he proudly announced, “My cock’s deep up inside of your womb, darling.” Lacing your fingers with his, he pinned your hand onto the mattress and began slowly thrusting into you. “I'm gonna fuck my baby up into your womb. Show everyone that you belong to me.”

His words were like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head. The reality that you weren't on birth control and had your soon to be stepbrother's cock in your not so virginal pussy anymore had you slightly panicking.

“Coryo, you can't do that. You can't cum inside of me. I'm not on anything and our parents’ll be mad if-” You began to frantically ramble as Coryo fucked his cock slow, but deep inside of you, only for him to cut you off with a rough toned, “I don't give a fuck what those assholes think, Y/N. I'm 18 and soon you'll be 18, so they have no say over us fucking.”

You bit your lip, leaving out a mewl, as your felt his dick brush up against the spongy spot inside of you.

“Hell, come mid-summer we'll be graduating the Academy, so knocking you up won't interfere with your education cause there's only a handful of months left til the games and the graduation ceremony.”

“Coryo, were too young. Just, please, pull out before you cum.” You pleaded with innocent eyes.

Coryo couldn't grant you that. He couldn't do that for you. He's selfish and wants you all to himself. What better way to ensure that you stay with him then to baby trap you?

It's perfect, really.

Knock you up and you're stuck with him forever.

Nobody will ever want you let alone look twice at you once they see you're pregnant with his baby.

With your stepbrother's baby.

Oh, yes, knocking you up will make the perfect scandal that'll keep you two together forever.

Plus, Crassus won't want the shame of having a bastard grandchild, so he'll push for Coriolanus and you to marry in order to give the baby a legal name.

Sadly, Coryo underestimates how evil and cruel his father can be (even to his unborn grandchild). If he wasn't so pussydrunk, maybe Coryo would've realized that knocking you up would only enrage his father.

But he wasn't thinking clearly. He's pussydrunk and high on his obsessive love for you.

“I'm not pulling out, Y/N.” Coryo firmly told you. Speeding up his movements, he grunted, “Now stop whining and enjoy me fucking you.”

You didn't argue about the subject of him pulling out anymore, just nodded your head and let the feelings of pleasure wash over you.

Your breath hitched and you let out a mewl when Coryo's hands grabbed a hold of your legs and pressed them into your chest, causing them to rest on his shoulders as he began to thrust harder into you.

“Coryo…you feel even bigger…’ You muttered, the position change making him hit deeper inside of you.

“You like my big cock fucking splitting open your pussy, don't you? Fuck, your taking my cock like such a little cock slut, Y/N.” He darkly told you, lust tainting his voice, as you scratched his back and babbled his name.

“Coryo, please. I'm so close. So close…” You begged him to make you cum as your head got heavy, making you feel like you're underwater.

“I'll make you cum, darling. I'll make you cum right now on my cock.” Coryo told you, snaking his hand between your bodies only to roughly rub and pinch your puffy clit.

The feeling of his thumb roughly abusing your clit and his cock deeply plowing into your pussy has you clenching around him, cumming hard with his name on your tongue like a prayer.

Coryo fucked your thru the aftershocks of your second orgasm, only to sloppily speed up and chase his own release.

“I'm gonna cum inside your pussy and you're gonna take it all, Y/N. You're gonna drain my cock dry, little dove.” He told you as he felt his heavy balls, that were slapping relentlessly against your ass, tense up.

“Coryo, I think I'm gonna cum again.” You told him, feeling that warm fluttery feeling well up in your lower belly once more.

“Fuck, your creaming my cock like such a good little slut.” Coryo groaned at the sight of the white creamy ring you were leaving around the base of him. “Fuck…” He gasped, about to cum. “Cum with me, darling. Cum with me.” He demanded, his hips stuttering before he let out his release.

You came again once you felt his hot cum shoot up deep inside of you in thick ropes.

“Oh fuck…” Coryo panted, collapsing on top of you.

“Oh fuck…” You agreed with him, kicking your feet and causing your black kitten heels to go flying across the room.

Your legs limply slipped from his shoulders as your hands shakily carded thru his sweaty light blonde curls. All while his face nestled into your perfect tits. Coryo's softening cock was still nestled inside of you, but you didn't mind. The closeness felt nice.

Your first time was amazing. It was nothing like the horror stories you heard other girls at the Academy gossip about. You were lucky that Coryo knew what he was doing. You felt wanted for the first time in your life after losing your virginity to him.

Coriolanus felt that fucking you was the best experience in his life. Honestly, it sure beats all those stupid quickies he had with dumb whores in the alley behind the club. He'd never tell you that tho.

No, you didn't need to know about his sexual past.

All that you needed to know was that you’re the only one that he wants. The only pussy that he’s getting his dick wet with for now on is yours.

You were cuddling in bed together, blankets pulled up around the both of you. Your head was resting in the crook of his neck as his long fingers raked thru your hair.

You felt happy in this moment, but you knew that it couldn't last. That it has to end. Your parents were getting married.

You could never be together, not truly.

You were going to be stepsiblings soon. Being together would be considered taboo.

Coryo could sense something was bothering you. “What's the matter, darling?” He asked, searching your eyes.

“We can't do this again, Coryo. Despite how we feel, it's taboo.” You told him, breaking eye contact with him because you didn't want to see his reaction.

“Y/N, I don't care what society thinks about us, our situation.” The platinum blonde spat. Lifting your chin up, so you had to look him in the eyes, he swore, “You're mine and I'm not giving you up. I'll kill anyone that tries to take you away from me, Y/N.” Coryo leaned in, kissing you on the lips. “It's us against the world, my darling rose. And you know what? Snow always lands on top.”

You were tired and didn't want to fight, so you decided to give in to him, to the man whose arms you were in. “Okay, us against the world then.” You smiled, eyes fluttering tiredly.

“One day when I'm the president and you're my first lady, nobody'll even remember that our parents decided to get married. And if they do, well, they won't be breathing for long to say anything about it.” You heard Coriolanus tell you while drifting off to sleep, warm and safe in his strong hold.

If only you knew how many people Coriolanus would kill in his lifetime, would you still stick by his side?

Probably, since he was ingrained in your soul once you gave him your precious gift that was your innocence- your virginity.

After all, you discovered quickly after becoming a part of the toxic Snow family that it truly was you and Coryo against the world.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1

[hermetiqa]

What do you need to know right know?

Daily Message: 17.08.24

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

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Pile 1

I'm seeing a new relationship coming your way, Pile 1! I'm leaning more into a romantic relationship but it'll be a slow burn one. It might feel like nothing's happening for a while because this person (masculine energy) is taking things slow between you. But I can see that they'll be planning about this connection and they'll have plans about you, and they'll even be generous when it comes to you. They might spoil you and they will be overprotective of you here. But be reminded that whatever it is that hurt you in the past, let this go. Let go of what changed in the past because it was a necessary change. You lost people because they won't be good for you in the future anymore. You should take things slow here with your new person too. Learn to go with the flow and be patient with them, don't rush them into anything because the way they take action towards you and your connection is simply them making sure that it's going well. I'm not getting much for you here, Pile 1, because this is simply what you need to know right now, the moment you're seeing this reading. Everything's going well for you. 2:22 on the clock. You're in the right place at the right time.

Pile 2

I'm getting some energy trying to heal from you here, Pile 2. I feel like you're trying to heal from a connection, specifically a platonic one. I feel like you want them to approach you and apologize and settle things with you, and perhaps start again as friends. This person could have a masculine energy. While the person with feminine energy, this could be you (take it how it resonates), had already set boundaries in the connection. This person already took the risk of losing the connection because of what had happened, which could be a huge argument. I feel like something had to change in this connection, maybe you're already in the adulting stage, and the person with masculine energy doesn't want this change. This person refused to change and accept change in the connection. They were too scared of it and it overwhelms them. I can see that this could've hurt you but you're healing from this. You could still be hopeful that you'll encounter each other again but at the same time, you're focusing on your healing and your own life. And it's just right to do so. I can also see that you're still determined to follow your own path and it's fine with you if following your own path means you'll be isolated from people around you, and you'll be completely on your own. In any case, I'm proud of you for doing so. I hope you'll heal well.

Pile 3

I can see that you're being left out in the cold here, Pile 3. Someone left you behind all of a sudden, this could be caused by some argument between you and one of you was being immature. But let this go because a better connection is coming your way, something more stable and long-term. There's a lot of future with this connection and it'll be passionate and adventurous. This person will show and/or teach you things you didn't know were possible or existed. You might be reminiscing about your past right now, about someone who had left you. I even feel like you're overthinking about what happened and you kept thinking about them and you have these "what if" thoughts running in your head. But it's important to recognize your life without them. The connection ended for a reason. You lose them for a reason. And that reason is for the better of you as individuals. You could even be isolating yourself from people around you because of this connection that you had lost but don't let yourself get stuck in this loop. I have nothing else to say here because I feel like you don't want anyone knowing about this much, like the details, so I'll stop here. But if this resonates and you understand what this is about, you have something or someone in your mind as you read this, then this is definitely for you. Let them go.

[sevs-corner]

Here i am giggling and kicking my feet over the idea of navy! reader being so at odds with the Tf 141 squad being army. (let's just imagine that they're either back to being cadets or they're visiting officers or part of an older class.)

You, a newly enrolled student at the Navy Academy, quickly got the attention of the four while they were stationed at the nearby army base (quite literally in the same area-- considered as close neighbors to the academy who are quite often at each others throats) for having already oustanding records as just a plebe.

And they wanted to recruit you to their lil' party troupe over at the army. (More like kidnapped 'cause they could use you more effectively at the army compared to the muppets and hooligans they ended up training and getting into their squadrons.)

But as they try coercing you at first, you firmly deny them- despite them holding authority over you and can get transferred with the amount of strings they can pull to make it happen, but they don't.

Because they want to see you do it willingly.

You, on the other hand, simply take it as another challenge to "BEAT ARMY" at every opportune moment. To see them crushed beneath the feet of someone who had trained for this very moment in your life-- and you're not just going to let that one chance go in place for canoodling with a bunch of silly army soldiers.

And seeing the fire of contest in your eyes made them accept your challenge, that-- until the day of your graduation-- whoever has the most points by that time, you would either stay in the Navy or work for them and their squad in the army.

Oh, just imagine the amount of unnecessary squabbles that would get you in trouble for by sneaking over to their academy and dorm room (and vice versa) to settle disputes in either card games, gun ranges, push-up counts, and many more-- basically making a competition out of everything.

You canonically have an on-going scoreboard that you update quite frequently like its a spreadsheet. Detailing everything from status reports of how, "MacTavish was so off his game today that he was a millimeter off from beating me at the sniper range" to "Beat the old man at his own game of mental 4D chess."

Even though you're at even odds against each other on land, on water on the other hand-- its quite a staggering difference.

With the record holding 20-4, you'd think they'd try for different events but no-- they're determined, undeterred at the thought of beating you at your own game.

Until Soap gets caught in a sail, gets hauled up, and is hanging by the sails-- and they swear off those competitions for a while.

Though when it comes to the fitness ones, somehow you always come short of winning with a close score of 30-28, with you up by two for the recent ones at the obstacle course at the Navy Academy. You had homecourt advantage but that never mattered between you five-- what mattered, was that Gaz tripped up at the last moment and fell to his demise on a rope because of the lack of grip from the mud crawling section of the course.

Even then, you were only seconds off from winning-- and of course you had to let them know by bring out your friends from the band, to stroll and march as you exited in style, leaving them more amused than disappointed really.

Who's to say that they don't mess with you as your- technically higher ranking- superiors?

They'll definitely call you out more when it comes to Navy-Army joint training sessions, or handle some of classes in combat or weapons handling.

They are definitely abusing their powers by pulling you out of your classes just to drag you into their silly competitions, which makes your workload stack and you even more determined to slam them to the ground in the gym, with the goal to grapple and flip the opponent first.

They don't feel bad at all, not when they can tease and play with their favorite underclassmen. They honestly just can't wait for you to be in the field with them, and with all this chemistry-- they already had plans for creating the perfect spot for you in their team.

You slotted into their dynamics so well that most of your classmates and other superiors wonder too on why don't the Tf 141 just adopt you already?

Well, because you're insistent in your goal-- and they respect that, though by doing so in challenges to see if you really, truly are committed to it. Elsewise, they would just pick you up and take care of you themselves.

All these hijinks and somehow, you forgot the true purpose behind them--

And TF 141 never forgets to fill in their end of a bargain. So watch out and make sure those scores tally in your favor~

Masterlist for my other works here ! Inspos that I just happened to watch on my feed here! From Sam Eckholm's YT on: -What's Inside the US Naval Academy -What's Inside the Air Force Academy

[fuxuannie]

🐠 haii for the requests milestone thingy could u do pavitr prabhakar x reader and the prompt “are we ab to kiss rn” and then the other actually leans in? c: TY IF U CAN ‼️❤️💖

↳ pairing : pavtir prabhakar x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : request ♡

↳ authors note : EUEEUEEU this is sosososo cute actually, i love this idea sm. ATSV SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!! im not entirely sure if i like this.. bute eeurrueue i tried my best

You and PAVITR had known each other for a while, long enough that he trusts you with his secret of being Spiderman with how close you two were.

Now you were on one of the tallest buildings in Mumbattan, swinging your feet over the ledge as Pavitr sat beside you with his hand unintentionally holding onto yours firmly since there was a small bit of lingering fear at the idea of you falling.

"Jeez, finally.. a break." He sighs in relief, taking off his mask with his free hand as you chuckle. "Isn't being Spiderman supposed to be sooo easy, Pav?" You teased, watching him roll his eyes in amusement. "Well, of course it is. But it certainly is busy, and I really just wanna spend time with you." Pavitr answers honestly, noticing how you seemed to be even just a little surprised and he was very entertained by that idea. You can already see his own little smirk beginning to form.

You clear your throat to hopefully shift the topic. "What made you so burnt-out today then?"

It didn't take long for you to see how his face shifts to a frown, and you knew exactly what he was about to bring up. "Miguel.. he's been so hard on some of us recently, especially the new-comers who he introduced the 'canon events' to." Pavitr runs a hand through his hair, his sigh was a mix of sadness and frustration as he recalls the events that occured earlier in the day. "They just want to save their loved ones.. no one can accept that kind of information and simply allow it to happen, you know?"

You nod along with his statement, unable to even imagine the dread those people must feel, just waiting for the people they care about most to die for their own development.

"But that's a sad topic, and today is supposed to be a nice resting day for the both of us." Pavitr smiles a little to lighten the mood, squeezing your hand softly as you take a deep breath. "Mines not been the best either.."

The smile he tries to hold falters at those words.

"Mom.. she's still very insistent on the arranged marriage." You let out a forced and bitter laugh. "I don't.. I mean, I don't know if I want to marry that person when I'm older. I've met them twice, Pav. And in the future, I have to spend every single loving who is essentially a stranger. Isn't that even a little weird in my parents eyes?"

He hated seeing how hopeless you looked, having no choice in who you want to love is devestating and in some cases lonely. Seeing real couples on the street and wondering what kind of innocent love you're likely missing out on.

Pavitr stands up and your head follows him as he does so, watching his determination-filled face as he pulls you up with ease. "Let's not wallow in sadness, yes? I'd much rather see you smile than frown." His hand makes its way to your cheek, causing you to chuckle softly as you lean into the touch and place your hand over his. "Thanks, Pav."

And without thinking, the next sentence you manage to stupidly utter out is; "Gosh, I wish you were the one I married instead."

You can see the visible surprise in his face when you say that, before you realize what exactly escaped your lips. "W-wait..-"

But it seems like Pavitr seems more affected than you, the hand once placed on your cheek immediately pulled back to cover his mouth and the uncontrollable but flustered smile on his face.

"You want to marry me??"

Instead of a mocking or angry tone, he seems genuinely happy that the person he's had a secret crush on for year or so finally gives some sort of hint that he's more than a friend.

"Do you mean it? Like.. really mean it?"

"I mean, yeah! Anyone would want to marry you.."

There's silence exchanged between the two of you, staring at each other in confusion, disbelief and surprise.

"What? Are we about to kiss right now?"

Pavitr teased to ease his nerves, but imagine how much worse they got when you actually started to lean in. He begins to quietly panic, however in all honesty he wants to do nothing else but kiss you at the moment. What if he never gets the chance to do it again? He couldn't risk that.

He finally presses his lips against yours, albeit very very nervously but a kiss is a kiss and goodness is he into it. Pavitr melts into the intimacy, but is very quick to pull away incase you're uncomfortable.

It seems almost impossible how fast his heart is racing when he watches your eyes flutter open and the realization that you actually kissed Pavitr rushes through your head quickly.

...

"Can we do that again..?"

"Gladly."

[the-little-ewok]

Enraptured (Poe POV)

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2600 (ish)

Warnings : PIV, fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of needy!Poe, sprinkles of feral!Poe, reader wears a dress, lack of self confidence, praise kink, cock warming, fluff, brief mentions of F/oral receiving, a tad of possessiveness in a soft way

Summary: Poe litterally can't keep his hands off you during a party (This is Clandestine... but from Poe's POV ;) )

A/N : It's not necessary to have read Clandestine to enjoy this. It's simply the same story from another (slightly more feral) point of view.

He can't stop his foot from bouncing impatiently under the table, trying anything to distract himself from the way you look, bathed in flickering multicolour lights, your dress accentuating every part of you that he loves.

He has so many regrets about agreeing to come tonight. He hates these types of parties as it is, full of stuck-up politicians, only out for their own gain. But this one, this is so much worse because of you. He can't concentrate on anything, and now to top it off he can't even leave the table because, well, in short, everyone would see exactly what you do to him.

He wants to look elsewhere, he wants to distract himself, but he can't. All he can do is stare at you, imagining the way you would look bent over the table, your dress hiked up high, the plush of your ass against his hips as he presses himself deep inside you, making you scream his name.

Damn Jess for helping you pick that dress. He really must remember to thank her the next time he sees her.

"Stop that," you scold him, for probably the thousandth time tonight.

"Stop what?" He grins at you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker up and down your body for absolutely the thousandth time. He really can't help himself anymore.

"Looking at me," you hiss in response, adjusting your dress.

He wishes you didn't fidget the way you do, like his gaze makes you uncomfortable. You don't see how truly beautiful you are — more than anyone, anything, he's ever seen. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your good heart, the way you never take any of his bullshit, the way you make his heart beat just as wildly as flying does. Poe knows he's in too deep with you. He's fallen harder than he ever has. He can't stop looking at you because you're all he can see, all he can ever see these days.

But you, beautiful, sexy, sweet, funny, you can't always accept that. And so the fidget only cements that he wants to show you just how much he wants you, right now.

"I'm admiring," he clarifies, refusing to move his gaze, determined to make you see what he sees.

"Well, admire something else," you answer, refusing to look at him.

Poe almost scoffs to himself. Admire something else? Not fucking likely with his cock impatiently throbbing with need.

"I can't," he leans in close to you, his voice a low hiss. He's genuinely surprised you haven't realised why yet, that it hasn't even been a thought to cross your mind. "You have no idea how much I can't."

He has a fleeting thought about grabbing your hand and showing you exactly what you do to him, but honestly, if you touched him now, he'd probably cum in his pants and ruin all the fun he plans to have with you later.

"Poe."

It's only half a warning. He can see it in your eyes — the flicker of desire. He's an expert at reading you, or at least he likes to think he is, and so far he hasn't been wrong. Maybe he can convince you to leave early. One of you could fake an illness, make your excuses, and stumble back to your room. He reckons he could probably make it as far as the lift before he has you pinned against the wall, your leg held up over his hip, fingers gripping your thigh as you tremble for him.

Kriff, he needed to slow down before he blows his load without so much as a brush of your flesh against his.

Taking a breath to steady himself, his eyes flicker over you once more, reading every micro expression. Yeah, you are starting to want this just as much as he needs it. Bedroom, lift, hell even getting to the door out of here is going to be too much trouble. He isn't making it that far.

"Come sit with me. At least let me hold you," he whispers softly, slipping his hand into yours. Your fingers grip his, warm and soft, suspicion in your eyes. But when he tugs, you follow, allowing him to guide you down onto his lap.

Such a good girl for me.

Your gasp as you sit makes his cock twitch, just the soft friction of your movement enough to start shredding whatever little patience he has left.

"I need you," he whispers against your ear. "I need you, now." He brushes his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you, wishing he had time, and enough restraint, to climb under the table and taste you before he cums, but he doesn't.

"Poe, we are in public!"

Maybe you are right. Maybe it's time to stop before he gets too far but fuck, he's too far gone. The delicious little wriggle you do on his lap does absolutely nothing to help.

"I can't wait," he groans, his hips rutting against you of their own accord, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please baby, it's been like this all night. Please. I need to be inside you."

He's begging now and he doesn't care. All he can think about is how desperately he needs to feel you soaking his cock, how desperately he wants to show you the effect you have on him, how desperately he wants you to believe you're worthy of it.

Even in the dim lighting, he catches the little smirk at the corner of your mouth. Perhaps you're just a little proud that you can reduce him to this. You have no true idea what you could reduce him to if you wanted to. If you asked he'd get down on his knees and beg you for just a glance in his direction. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for you.

"I'll be good to you," he promises, catching the hem of your dress and dragging it up, splaying his hands against your soft thighs, inching them up higher. "You know how good I can be to you."

You shiver at the touch of his hands and he wonders if your mind fills with memories like his does — back to all the nights you've spent together, your head tipped back on sweat soaked sheets as he worships at the altar of your body.

"If anyone sees…" your voice trails off with a sigh as he presses his lips against your neck, fighting to keep his hands still while he gives you time to consider your position.

"They won't." He's confident in that. If there's one thing he is, it's observant. He knows everyone is too caught up in their own night to worry about the two of you tucked away in a dark corner. The table just about covers your lap, where your dress is hiked up, his hands drifting closer to your hot core. The music is loud enough that nobody will hear you.

They won't see, but honestly, Poe couldn't give a damn if they do. Let them look, let them watch, let them see you are his.

He moves his mouth down your neck, slowly, invitingly, pausing to suck against your pulse point, marking you as his own, his hands pushing your thighs apart. Your pliancy to his actions only fuels his desire for you. He's proud that you allow this, that you trust him to do this. He's absolutely going to make it worth your while. Well, he's at least going to try and last long enough to make it worth your while.

His fingers finally slip between your thighs and it's like his lungs have suddenly collapsed, all the air rushing out suddenly.

You aren't wearing panties. His fingers brush against bare wet, no not just wet, soaked, flesh.

His plan was to gently tease you, make you admit how much you're enjoying this, how much you want this, but somehow his entire vocabulary is erased by the shock.

"Fuck," is all he manages to punch out as he drags his fingers up over your clit, relishing the way your hips jerk in response. He lets out a low whine against your neck as he ruts into your ass, desperate for release.

He swears he almost cums at the gasp you let out when he slips a finger into you. You're so hot. He has to pause for a moment, calming himself as you take a breath of your own, before he finally draws his finger up and over your clit, and then back down, sinking two fingers into you.

"Shouldn't have let you leave the room," he grumbles as you squirm, each jolt of your hips only drawing his attention to his painfully hard cock.

Why did he decide to listen to you about coming to this party? Why did he decide he could wait? Of all the questionable decisions Poe has made in his life, he's putting the one of agreeing to leave the room before burying himself inside you, at least twice, right at the top. Well, at least for now.

He curls his fingers slowly against your walls, his thumb barely stroking your clit with feather light touches, keeping you just tiptoeing the edge. After all you've put him through tonight, you deserve a little payback.

When your wriggling increases and your chest starts to heave with the effort of biting down your moans of pleasure, he licks a hot stripe up your neck, enjoying the way your breath catches and your body jerks.

"Can I fuck you now?"

He waits with bated breath to see how far you'll let him take this.

He'd never push you further than you wanted, never make you do something you're uncomfortable with. If you say no now then he'll wait, as much as it might drive him to the point of absolute madness. At this point, he might just cum in his pants from looking at you anyway.

"Yes," you breathe out, and then you roll your hips back against him. Poe curses loudly, unceremoniously removing his fingers from you and scrambling to undo his pants, every last bit of patience blasted to pieces. Later he'll apologise about the rush, be embarrassed about it, but right now, he has to have you.

His hands grip your hips, probably a little harder than necessary if he was honest, as you take a breath and sink down onto his cock. Poe's eyes roll back and he has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle the moan of pleasure as your walls flutter hot and tight around him.

He realises too late that`s a mistake, and right as his teeth sink into your flesh, your pussy clenches around him. His hips jolt upwards of their own accord, pressing him deeper into you and listening to your choked moan as he fights not to cum then and there.

"Shit baby, don't do that," he warns, taking a trembling breath. "Not unless you want this over really qui-nghh!"

Of course, you do it again. Of course, he should have expected it. But he didn't, and it takes every last bit of self restraint he has not to pin you down over the table and fuck you so hard you'll still feel it tomorrow.

"Stop," he warns, gritting his teeth, trying to think of anything but the searing heat engulfing his dick. "Don't wanna rush this."

You clench again and he growls a frustrated warning. He wants you to just sit still for a damn minute while he catches his breath before this ends too quickly for both of you. But you seem to have no intentions of letting him do that.

Well if it was going to be that way, two could play that game. He was going to drag this out now. Fuck you slowly, deeply, like he has all the time in the world. Poe's stubbornness was the only thing that could outweigh his desperate desire.

He grinds his hips upwards, pressing deep inside you, pulling you down against him as he does, ensuring you feel all of him. Your whole body reacts, and he can't stop the smirk forming on his lips.

There we go baby, take it all for me.

He adjusts just slightly with each grind of his hips until he finds that one spot that makes you whimper. And then he presses against it, again, and again, and again.

Oh, how he relishes in the shivers of your body, the gasps escaping your lips, the beads of sweat rolling down your neck, the clench of your pussy as he holds you still against his lap, forcing you to accept the pleasure, even though he knows he's holding you on the edge of bliss for longer than you would like.

"Good girl, taking me so well," he praises, his voice low against your ear, trying to stop his own breath from heaving, lest you know you could tip him over the edge with one well placed word. "Letting me have you here, where anyone can see us."

The bite of your nails digging into his arms only spurns him on, making his cock throb inside you. He wonders if the marks will still be there tomorrow, something he can admire, something that marks him as yours.

"Driving me crazy in this dress. Lookin' like the hottest fucking thing. Fuck baby, you're so good to me, letting me do this." He knows he's rambling now, but his mouth, as it so often does, is going before his thoughts are connecting. All he can think about is how good you feel, your body pressed against him, anchored by his arms around your waist, your pussy gripping his aching cock as you take all he's willing to give you.

You're so close, he can feel it. Your body is stiff, your nails digging in painfully now, your head leant back against his shoulder, chest heaving, pussy fluttering, whimpering with each slow torturous grind of his hips.

His own climax creeps up far quicker than he's expecting and suddenly he desperately needs to let go. Scrambling to pull your dress up out of the way he presses his fingers against your clit, drawing quick tight circles as you gasp.

He needs you to fall first. He needs to feel what he does to you.

"Cum for me. Cum now," he demands.

Your back arches, your breath catching as you let go of his arms to grip the table, your pussy clenching and fluttering as your climax hits. It's too much and Poe finally lets himself go, burying his moan of satisfaction into your neck, his fingers moving to grip your thighs as you writhe on his lap. He continues to roll his hips slowly, milking every last bit of your climax, savouring each little shiver and whimper until you collapse back against him, boneless.

Even though everything seems hazy around the edges in the post orgasmic bliss, he notices the way your head turns just slightly, checking if anyone has noticed what has transpired.

"Told you nobody would see," he smiles, nuzzling your neck, enjoying the closeness of your body.

"You're lucky," you turn your head to kiss him and his heart jumps. How could there have ever been a time when you thought he wouldn't want you? How could there have been a time you didn't realise he spent every night, cock in hand, thinking about you. How could you not realise he was hopelessly, utterly in love with you?

"I am very lucky," he nods, wishing he could form better words to explain just how lucky he feels. But you're sitting there looking so prettily dishevelled, sweat still drying on your skin, your nail marks in his arms, and he can't think of anything but how much he wants to drag those noises from you again.

"Thanks for helping me take care of that problem." He grins, his hands moving to brush his fingers against the inside of your thighs, slowly inching upwards to where he's still buried deep inside you. "I'll repay the favour later tonight…" he pauses, wondering if you can go again already. "Or now?"

You let out the prettiest noise as his hands creep higher, placing a solitary kiss on your neck. Poe decided that means you need a minute, but he has no intentions of making it an easy minute.

He bites down a groan as his fingers are met with slick wetness, almost halfway down your thighs. Judging by how wet you are, and a small shift of his legs confirms his suspicions as his pants stick to his own skin, there's no way he's moving any time soon anyway.

"I'm sorry baby, but it seems you might have made quite the mess. You're soaked everywhere."

He's about as un-sorry as he can get, his mind already filled with how many more times he can get you to cum before the party is over. How much can you take before it's too much? How many times can he make you whimper? How many times can he make you soak his lap?

You could be stuck here for hours yet, right where you are. The thought makes his cock twitch.

His arms wrap tight around your waist, ensuring you aren't going anywhere anytime soon. He feels you shiver in anticipation as his lips ghost the shell of your ear, a wicked grin forming on his lips.

"I guess you'll just have to sit right there until the party's over."

-------------

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog and let me know your thoughts! Remember interactions keep writers writing!

[moonstruck-poet]

Survive pt.3

Pairing - Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Summary - Because of your job as a crime officer, a particularly dangerous mission has both you and your husband on the edge.

Warnings - breakdown, trauma, mentions of harassment, blood, injury

"No absolutely not," Elijah shook his head firmly, "No way in hell am I gonna let you drive yourself home. You can barely stand for Christ's sake!"

"Elijah," you began but were cut off immediately.

"He's right," Stephen crossed his arms, shooting you a look of finality and you sighed, throwing your hands up in the air in defeat. "Good work then team," he said after a moment's pause.

Chris snorted, grabbing his coat and pulling it on, not even wincing as the fabric grazed against his bandaged wounds, "That's an understatement".

"I'll have you know that your names have been given to this year's award ceremony".

"Holy shit," Jess voiced everyone's feelings, her eyes wide with excitement. The award ceremony hosted by the country every year was a dream for the militant force like you. Earning the badges given was always the biggest source of pride.

"Should we go then?" Elijah asked making you roll your eyes. You two were going home together in your car while Jess and Chris were in hers, her and Eli being the less harmed ones.

"Bye everyone, take a well deserved break," you muttered, grabbing Jess and pulling her into a tight hug, both of you grimacing at the pain which only amplified as the boys joined it.

"Goodbye Cap, looking forward to the team dinner," Chris grinned, throwing you a wink and you laughed, accepting his request.

The pair of you walked downstairs to the parking lot, your steps guided and slow, unlike your usual confident, quick strides.

"Here," you held your key to him, watching as his mouth opened in slight shock.

"You sure?" He bit his lip, trying his hardest to not snatch the key of his favourite car.

"Yes. You're dropping me off, that's the least I can do for you," you replied, smiling at the way his face lit up like a child's as he ran towards the door, getting into your sleek black Aston Martin. "Take it home, keep it for a day or two. I'll pick it up".

His lips could've split his face with how wide they seemed to stretch. Buckling in the seatbelts, you began the drive home.

It didn't take long considering it was quite late and you didn't live far off. Opening the door you cautiously got out, groaning as your extremely sore legs bore your body weight making you lean against the car.

"Should I come up?" He asked, getting out too but certainly not wanting to overstep any boundaries at all. "You'll be fine by yourself?"

You nodded, "You've helped me enough already, 'lijah. Go home now, your mum must be waiting".

He pursed his lips before gently giving you a side hug, his eyes tearing up a little as the terrific day came rushing through.

"I know," you rubbed his shoulder, "It's okay".

He exhaled heavily before drying his eyes and giving you a smile, "Also can you congratulate Carlos on his podium? The race was simply amazing," he slightly bounced on his feet, his inner Ferrari fanboy peeking out making you grin.

Bidding your crazy but loving friend goodbye, at long last you walked towards the elevator, your strength slowly deteriorating but your determination was strong. The lift seemed teasingly slow, as though wanting to keep you away from your husband for as long as it could.

Alas it stopped at your floor and you stepped out immediately, almost jogging to the door and ringing the bell, not bothering to find the keys because you knew he was waiting on the other side.

A second later the door opened, revealing your Carlos and you didn't even have the time to properly look at him before you were whisked in his embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly as he held you close, breathing heavily and unconsciously gripping you tighter. His face was pressed into your neck, and for the love of god the love that emitted from him made all the pain fade away.

He simply held you there, your hands turning into fists as you grasped his shirt, finally inhaling his soft scent and as though your body had had enough, as though a switch had flickered on, tears fell down your cheeks. Silent at first, before transforming into sobs that tugged at your husband's heartstrings. Hu pulled away from your shoulder, allowing you to copy his position as your arms wound around his neck, face buried in the crook as you cried.

Every horrible scene that happened today was running through your mind like a movie, and relieving it again made the horrors even more real.

"C- Carlos," you stuttered before letting out another shout, filled with such an ounce of pain that tears were quick to well up in his eyes.

"I'm here, my love," he whispered desperately, clutching at your body, pulling you impossibly closer as he provided you with comfort that seemed useless. "You're home, you're safe now. Everything's okay, cariño". [Darling]

Cariño.

Cariño.

The nickname just somehow poked at your emotions again, reminding you of the moment when you had been lying helplessly on the ground, eyes almost closing as you were being beaten mercilessly. Your mind had gone numb, the only thing echoing in it was your husband's soft, gentle voice as he called you his darling, his cariño.

"I- I'm sorry- I can't- I can't breathe-" you managed in between the cries, trying your best to take in the air but you didn't want to lift your head up, afraid that you would be transported back to that hotel.

"Amor," he said softly, shutting his eyes furiously to stop the incoming emotions because right now he had to be strong. For you. You had been through hell and back, emerging victorious with a smile of confidence. But now? You were merely a human, having had enough for a day. It was his priority, you were his priority. He must be strong. For you. [Love]

He controlled himself, driven by the spirit to bring you back to him. With one hand still wrapped protectively around you, he closed the door with the other. Then he slightly lifted you up, walking backwards to the couch and settling you down, but making sure to not distance him at all.

Knowing that you needed him more than anything, anyone else in the world. And he was going to be there for every second of it.

"I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere," he reassured you but felt the way your hands pulled him closer and he swallowed, placing his palm on the back of your head, trying to soothe you.

"It's okay," he murmured in your ear. His deep, low yet tender voice steadily penetrating through the darkness plaguing your mind. "You're okay, mi corazõn. Everything is okay". [My heart]

"Shhh," he repeated, now starting to rub slow circles on your back as you quietened down, not speaking anything and instead turning your head sideways, allowing your nose to inhale some air.

You didn't know how long you stayed in the position, but your legs had started throbbing, a dull ache spreading through your body, lighting every part but you ignored it, as it was all physical.

Right now, your mental health was way more important and you owed it to yourself to pay attention and give it what it needs.

You had calmed down completely, just enjoying the feel of him as you played with the ends of his hair when a thought struck your mind. Carlos hadn't even seen you properly, even though your wounds were bandaged, your bloodied shirt was enough to give him a scare. You grimaced at that, cursing yourself for not having brought a change of clothes. You had your jacket over it but that didn't actually make it any better, as the sleeves were ripped.

So praying that you wouldn't give him another heart attack, you deliberately pulled away, before giving yourself the chance to look at his face that you had been deprived of for so long.

His eyes met yours, and as they scanned every cut on your face itself, they widened. Worry immediately seeping through those brown irises as he looked at you incredulously.

"Oh my god," was all he managed to utter as he took your hands, his trembling after noticing every cut and bruise that marked your body. Then his gaze fell down to your once light blue shirt which had stained crimson and he felt his stomach churn.

"What the hell-" he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence as his eyes moved around wildly. His heart burning with pain, discomfort, rage, on seeing the condition of his wife.

"Qué te hicieron, mi amor..." He trailed off, a lone tear falling down his cheek as his heart ached uncontrollably. An everlasting torment infecting his soul as he looked at you, a sight that he would never be able to forget. [What did they do to you, my love]

"Hey," you called him, hesitatingly raising your hands to cup his face, and his eyes fluttered close, leaning against your touch as though it were muscle memory for him.

"Sé que esto pinta mal, créeme. Pero te prometo que saldré de esta". [I know this looks bad, believe me. But I promise you that I will get out of this]

"No estoy preocupado por eso," he chuckled, his voice hollow as he looked at you, your pain being reflected in his expressions. "I know you'll get through this, you always do. But I can't help the pain that I feel on seeing you hurt, mi vida". [I'm not worried about that] [My life]

You could only give him a sad smile as he covered your hand with his, not failing to notice the way your face had contorted ever the slightest.

He gently pulled them away from his face, before turning them around and seeing your bruised knuckles. Some were still raw while others had turned dark blue.

"You get a small paper cut and I can feel my pulse racing like anything. Every time you tell me you're going to visit a site, or- or have a small mission my insides freeze with fear. I feel so afraid over the smallest of stuff," he sighed, ghosting his thumb over your skin.

"I'm so sorry," you apologised sincerely, knowing how bad it must be for him to constantly worry about your well being. You understood it all too well, as you always held your breath during his races, not taking your eyes off of the track, worried that something bad may happen if you did so.

You couldn't imagine him being alone, farther away from you, not even knowing your exact location. The only thing in his hands was to pray.

"No no," he shook his head and now smiled more genuinely. "I knew what I was signing up for, but I actually didn't have a choice as you had to be my only best friend since childhood".

You laughed at that, "Having second thoughts now are we, Sainz?"

"Never," he muttered, giving you a crooked smile and you leaned closer, snaking your arms around his neck to bring him in a kiss and he sighed at the feeling, not wasting any time as he joined you, hands on your waist as he kissed back. Love, worry, longing were the major emotions you felt from his side as he closed the gap again before moving back, resting his forehead to yours.

"Oh Dios, te quiero tanto," he spoke, eyes opening as he placed a lingering kiss on your forehead and your heart swelled at his action. [Oh God, I love you so much]

There was just something about these types of kisses that made you feel so, so loved. Maybe it was because you felt secure, or the feeling on his soft lips against your temple, or maybe it was the way he looked at you after, his eyes tender but burning with a flame of protectiveness.

"I should take a shower," you mumbled, "And I'm also very hungry".

"I knew you would be, I've made your favourite. Come on up you get," he stood up making you frown at the warmth disappearing but you followed his lead, momentarily forgetting about your heavy injuries and as a result you stumbled a little, his arm around you instinctively making you smile.

He helped you enter the bathroom, taking off your jacket for you and removing fresh, comfortable clothes from your wardrobe. The shower felt incredible after the long day, the warm water rinsing off every bit of dirt and grime that had remained on your body.

And you walked into the kitchen, wearing his hoodie and sweatpants, the delicious smell of pasta greeting you as you entered.

Dinner was a rather interesting affair as you filled Carlos in with the incidents of today. Trying not to laugh on seeing his expressions that changed every second as you told him the story.

"I'm glad the others are safe too," he frowned, having heard everything at last. "Also happy that you managed to get all the children out".

"They were so happy, you know," you told him, your heart clenching as he took your hand in his. "So happy to get back to their parents".

He smiled, though feeling your sadness, "I can't even imagine what they had gone through".

A hiss from you broke his thoughts as you rubbed your shin that had bumped against the table in your eagerness to stand up.

"Love," he scolded you, going over to your side and helping you out. "You have to be more careful".

"I can do it by myself," you grumbled, but obliged anyways as he shot you the look, similar to the one your mother used to give you when you refused to listen to her.

"Let's patch you up," he brought you to the bedroom and you laid down, a satisfactory groan escaping your lips as your body rested. But your back had also bore many beatings, which were now aching.

"Can you take it off?" He asked, tugging at your hoodie as you crossed your arms to lift it over your head, your lips turning downwards as your muscles throbbed harshly.

"Hey wait- I'll do it," he stepped it rather gladly, cautiously pulling it off of you and on seeing your torso, his heart had once again broken into tiny fragments.

Your stomach was spotted with yellowing bruises, and he forced himself to swallow the lump hurting his throat.

"Oh baby," he said sadly, seeing the long, red scar on your neck. Involuntarily his fingers touched the area around it, caressing the skin. His touch travelled down to your collar bone, where again lay a long, but slightly deeper scar.

"How did you handle so much," he asked, not expecting an answer but he was too overwhelmed on seeing the marks on your body.

"I'm just a little strong I guess," you replied anyways, squeezing his hand as it circled the gashes on your arms, applying the antiseptic cream.

"I wish I could've hit that bastard myself," he growled, anger taking over his features as his emotions heightened.

"He's dead, Carlos. He got what he deserved".

"He harassed you!" Carlos said, clearly agitated and grabbed his hair in frustration. Tears threatened to fall and he offered no resistance, shutting his eyes as he cried silently. Internally feeling like a failure, a failure of a husband who couldn't even protect his wife. Logically he knew that there was absolutely nothing that was in his hands, but his emotional part had his soul trapped in guilt.

"Darling," you placed your hand on his shoulder, while the other gently removed his hands tangled in his own hair. You took his face in your palms, wiping away his moist cheeks and shooting him with a small smile. "I know it hurts you to see me like this, believe me I do. But you should know that there's nothing you could've done!"

"I just feel bad," he frowned, his cheeks puffing out a little as he pouted making you chuckle softly as you caressed his cheekbones.

"Carlitos, Sí, no estuviste durante la misión, pero sé que estarás ahí para ayudarme a recuperarme". [Carlitos, Yes, you weren't there during the mission, but I know you'll be there to help me recover.]

"Siempre, lo prometo. Te ayudaré en todo, mi amor. Por siempre y para siempre". [Always, I promise. I will help you in everything, my love. Forever and always]

And you couldn't help but smile again at the love and adoration visible in his eyes, feeling your heart starting to fall for this man. Again.

"Y eso significa mucho para mí," you grinned softly, pulling him by his shirt for a deep, passionate kiss and he obliged. "Te amo, mi corazón". [And that means a lot to me] [I love you, my heart]

"Yo también te quiero, mi vida," he replied, sealing his sentence with another gentle, reassuring peck on your forehead, which then travelled to your nose, then to both of your cheeks making you start giggling a little as his stubble started tickling you. [I love you too, my life]

He didn't stop, feeling nothing but encouraged at the sounds of your laughs as he continued his tender assault on your neck, being mindful of the scars and you arched back, your fingers tangling up in his soft hair, something you could never get enough of.

"I'll always be your number one supporter, sweetheart," he kissed your knuckles, his touch as light as a feather.

"Not more than me being your number one fan," you retorted, gesturing towards the mini model of his racing car that rested proudly on the side table.

====================================

After a week, your body had begun healing quite well. The deeper injuries closing up while the smaller ones already starting to fade away. You were sitting in the passenger seat, donned in a black shirt paired with blue jeans and staring outside the window.

Carlos was your driver tonight, well almost every time since you came back from the mission. He had used his break to his maximum advantage, always helping you in every way possible.

You two were on the way to your office, they had called you to collect some documents and had also informed you about something important that was to be given. And since you had been out already, Carlos agreed to tag along.

"I've always wanted to see your office," he said, pulling up in the parking lot and getting out, holding a finger up, signalling you to not move and you rolled your eyes though a smile broke free. He ran over to your side before opening your door and offering you his hand, his eyes full of nothing but pure devotion as he intertwined your fingers.

"It's not that interesting," you laughed, knowing he was probably thinking about what they always showed in the movies.

But he didn't take no for an answer and followed your lead, a curious expression on his face which transformed into delight as you entered the building and some of the officers immediately saluted you. You nodded, accepting their respects as their senior officer walked past them.

"Morning ma'am!" A group of new interns greeted you excitedly, almost fangirling as you wished them back and smiled.

"I think I have competition," Carlos murmured in your ear with a teasing smirk, nodding to all of the admirers you had.

You merely shook your head at his antics and led him to your cabin. He let go of your hand and did a slow spin, taking everything in. The interior was quite simple and comfortable, various frames lining the walls, some being photos and others being certificates, quotes. He studied the pictures carefully, they ranged from your rookie years to your current position. What caught his eye was the frame lying on your desk, it was a gorgeous picture of you two smiling at the camera.

"Like it?"

He nodded enthusiastically, about to say something when a knock was heard. The door opened to reveal a flustered Elijah, who turned even redder on seeing Carlos Sainz standing feet away, Jess poked her head under his and Chris was seen above him.

You chuckled at their shenanigans, the three musketeers as you called them. "I doubt you've ever asked my permission for coming in, until now," you raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Chris scoffed, "We've always knocked".

"Carlos, this is my team that I was telling you about. That's Chris, Jess, and Elijah".

The second you took his name and Carlos' attention turned to him, Elijah could almost feel an incoming heart attack. He smiled nervously, his hand on his neck as he tried to not do anything stupid.

"Elijah here is quite the fan," you added making the said person shoot you a small glare.

"Oh are you?" Carlos asked genuinely, stepping closer to shake his hand and his awful team snickered at the way he seemed to hyperventilate. "That's great".

"T- Thank you," he fumbled, staring at someone whom he had watched on nothing but a screen for years, and that someone had just shaken his hand. "I love you so much," he blurted out, regretting his entire existence instantly.

The room burst into laughter and cackles from Chris as Carlos smiled good naturedly, pulling the already flustered boy in a side hug.

"Alright alright you'll make his heart stop," Elijah's best friend grinned teasingly, already having recorded this moment.

"Planning to steal my husband are you, Eli?" You questioned playfully, crossing your arms as he shook his head frantically.

"Of course not," he muttered, flushing pink again.

"Come on then, sir is calling us all," Jess reminded them all when the chuckles ceased. "Oh it's okay if you come too, there's nothing confidential," she addressed Carlos who was about to sit on the chair.

You looked at his expectantly and he nodded, having the intense urge to place his arm around your waist but he resisted, knowing this was your workplace, a lot more strict and formal than the rest. So he settled on being close to you so your fingers kept on brushing against each other.

"Ah there you are," Stephen brightened visibly as you walked in followed by the rest, the four of you gave him a proper salute while Carlos bowed, a hint of nervousness on his face.

"And this must be your husband," he looked at you for confirmation before shaking hands, "Good to see you, Mr Sainz".

"The pleasure is all mine, sir," he replied respectfully, keeping his head bowed as they shook hands.

"Really sorry to have called you on such short notice, but I felt it appropriate to hand this to you in person instead of on the phone," he said and you furrowed your eyebrows as he handed you an envelope.

You opened it, scanning the letter and a smile quickly spread across your face. "We've been invited??"

"Yess!" Jess nodded in excitement, "Which means we have a potential chance to earn a badge".

"You all deserve it," Stephen said, pride filling his chest as he looked at the future standing before him. "Make sure to turn up in your best uniform".

"Thank you," you muttered, nothing but gratitude in your voice as he nodded kindly and you bid your team goodbye before exiting the office.

"What's this about?" Carlos asked you curiously as you walked in the hallway.

"It's an award ceremony that the government holds every year, to award deserving candidates from the special forces," you explained.

"And you are nominated?"

"So it seems".

"This is great," he whispered, looking at you with newfound admiration. His arm was quick to rest on your hip, the gesture casual but also loving and he kissed the side of your head.

You leaned into him, always finding solace in his touch. Your husband was someone who could make your heart both race and calm down.

You were talking, when suddenly you heard the pattering of feet as they ran and someone had hugged your waist. You both halted as you looked down, seeing a familiar, young face as she grinned at you widely, her eyes shining so bright.

"Ana," you smiled, letting out a laugh before wrapping your arms around her too while Carlos watched the exchange with slight confusion but a grin was seen on his face too.

"See I saw you again!" She giggled happily and you kneeled down, nodding at her happiness as you brushed stray hair from her forehead.

"You did huh," you responded before picking her up and twirling her around, your insides swelling with joy on hearing her loud shouts.

When you stopped she rested her head on your shoulder, feeling slightly dizzy when her eyes spotted Carlos standing beside you.

"Who's he?" She questioned immediately, her curious eyes looking at his face.

"His name is Carlos," you answered and he stepped closer with a warm smile, "He's my husband".

Ana's eyes widened as her head danced back and forth between you two. "You're married!" She exclaimed, giggling again as another thought struck her. "He looks handsome".

You smirked at that, looking at him to see a bashful grin on his face as he pushed his hair back, "Am I?"

"Yes," she said solemnly. "You look like Prince Eric from Ariel".

He laughed at that, taking her small hand in his and pressing a kiss on it, "And how are you this morning, princess?" He asked with a posh accent.

Ana giggled uncontrollably at the nickname and threw her hands around his neck, hugging him tightly from your arms before pulling back.

Your heart warmed up seeing the wholesome interaction, Carlos had always been good with kids which made your thoughts run wild sometimes.

Ana's parents greeted you too, thanking you non-stop for your help. Her mother almost cried as she kept on expressing her gratitude, and that they owed you forever.

You were both now outside, on the way to your car when your husband grabbed your waist and pulled you against him, his lips twitching slightly as he held you close, relishing in the feeling.

While you too mirrored his actions, your eyes roaming from his fluffy hair, to those gorgeous melted honey eyes, to the curve of his long, sculpted nose and down to his beautiful lips. He truly was a sight to behold.

"¿He mencionado lo mucho que te quiero?" He asked, trying to be serious but of course he couldn't. [Have I mentioned how much I love you]

"Probablemente lo mencionaste una o dos veces," you played along, pretending to think deeply. "Pero me gustaría que me lo recordaran otra vez". [You probably mentioned it once or twice] [But I wish you would remind me again]

His mouth stretched wide as he was but centimetres away from you, looking deep in your eyes as he joined your lips before answering, "Te amo profundamente, cariño". [I love you deeply, darling]

You felt the rush of your pulse before it steadied underneath his comforting gaze, "Te quiero, mi corazõn. Más que a nadie en el mundo". [I love you, my heart. More than anyone in the world]

====================================

Part 1

Part 2

We're finally done with the mini series! Thank you so much for all the love, everybody <33

[yuri-is-online]

congrats on the 300 followers, you deserve it and more 🫶 for the event can i request prompt 21 with ace and deuce? have a nice day ^^

21. Missing lunch and sharing a snack

Thank you very much friend <3 Good choice, this is such a cute prompt for these two.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Check out the rest of the event requests here.

Ace

"Just so we're clear, we are absolutely blaming this on Grim." Ace is doubled over, out of breath but full of rage as you simply lay in the grass of the courtyard, peacefully accepting your fate.

"Why does it matter?" You smile ruefully pointedly focused on the vast blue expanse of the sky from your position lying on the courtyard lawn. "Why does any of it matter? Are we not just here to suffer?" Technically speaking, if you had been in the mood to debate with Ace, your current situation was very much his fault, Grim had actually been following the directions Crewel gave rather nicely until Ace decided to tease him.

"It was one detention period." He huffs, clearly at least a little aware of his situation. And yet you cannot shake the feeling that Ace seems determined to abandon you to your misery without any apologies for making you both miss lunch. You can see him eyeing the hallway debating it.

"Just leave me then." You don't want to go but you also don't want him to pretend to want to stay. "You still might be able to make it to lunch if you sprint." You both know that isn't true, but that apparently doesn't stop Ace, he runs off so fast you'd swear Riddle was after him. Typical, you set an alarm on your phone for fifteen minutes in case you fall asleep and settle yourself deeper into the grass. Part of you wonders why you even rely on Ace so much if he gives you just as much grief as he does help. Sure, Deuce and Jack always insist that he scams you less, but does he really? Not that it really matters right now, you think, eyes fluttering shut as you try to ignore how hungry you are.

"Hey you aren't actually asleep, are you?" Something rustles next to you, a comforting weight settling into the grass on your right, but it is not enough to make you stir. Something wet and cold taps your lips and you're up with a start, fumbling with the drink Ace has decided to literally drop on your head while he cracks open a canned soda. "What?" He isn't smirking to your surprise, strangely serious as he passes over a pastry from the vending machines you only just now remember are in the very hallway he'd dashed off to earlier. Ace wants to make a joke, or tease you a bit but the light in your smile at his thoughtfulness keeps all the pretense down. But he can't stifle the blush that comes from your head hitting his shoulder you the crack in his voice when he responds to your sleepy thank you.

"You're welcome, Yuu."

Deuce

You can tell the cause of a headache depending on the part of your head that hurts. Today, there is a ring of pain running around your forehead like a headband indicative of a tension headache; you must have been more stressed about this exam than you had originally thought.

"Here try this." Deuce gently places an ice pack on your forehead, flinching as you wince at the temperature. You gently take over holding the pack from him as he turns to fumble around in his bag as you stare at the wall and try to focus on breathing.

"Sorry about this." Deuce had noticed you weren't feeling well almost immediately and insisted on taking you to the hospital wing before going to lunch. "You can go on ahead and meet up with Ace and Grim."

"Not going to happen." He laughs slightly. "You won't stay here till the nurse gets back unless I force you."

"It's just a headache, I'll be fine before the nurse even gets back. If you don't get going soon you'll miss lunch." The last thing you want is to cause even more problems for Deuce, he's always going out of his way to help you. The least he can do for himself is eat. Finally Deuce finds what he's looking for and settles next to you on the bed.

"I'd still be worried." He's unflappably honest when he is unaware of himself, if Deuce could notice the way your breath hitches at the slightest contact he would be much more of a mess. "Can you eat?" He holds up half of a sandwich, still wrapped in wax paper you swear you recognize from the Heartslabyul kitchens.

"Did you steal that from Trey?" That does fluster him.

"N-no." You gently take the sandwich with a light laugh. "I made it myself y'know. Trey's not the only one in Heartslabyul that can cook." Your head feels a little lighter, stress melting bit by bit.

"It's good, 10 points for Deucey." He puffs up in pride.

"If you ever miss lunch just ask me, as long as you're in Twisted Wonderland I'll take care of you."

[mommymccabe]

Pre-game Panic

Pairing: Katie McCabe x reader

Summary: Katie McCabe. The Irish captain. The bane of your existence. On and off the pitch, always making life harder than necessarily with her unreasonable hatred for you. Despite her attitude, you had a massive crush on her. I mean cmon, she's Katie McCabe how could you not. As an Arsenal team member, you two should get along fabulously. But since the day you signed the contract to join the team, Katie has had it out for you.

Whether it be her attitude, insults or game play, she always found a way to cause you harm. You never understood the woman til a game against Chelsea uncovered the truth behind her actions.

Words: 2000

Warnings: fluff/angst, mean Katie, bad writing, panic attacks (let me know if i missed anything)

____________________________

You've been at Arsenal for 3 months now. You've proved to be a valuable member of the team with the various assists and goals to your name. Everyone loves you, except for the one and only Katie McCabe. For reasons unknown to you, she hates you.

It's game day in Etihad Stadium against Arsenal's rivals, Chelsea. As you and the rest of the team get ready in the change room, nervousness fills you. You're always nervous before a game but this is different. You've always been quiet, never one to talk much and definitely hated conflict. Which is why the Irish woman's unrelenting cruelty towards you impacts you so much.

You've always admired her. Being only 21, you grew up watching and admiring many of your now teammates. Especially Caitlin, Steph and Katie, being the true Irish-Aussie you were. You always admired Katies's determination and passion for the game, throwing her all into every match. But her harsh words and ice cold glares aimed only at you quickly changed your perspective on the older woman.

As you sit in the change rooms trying to calm your racing heart as well as the nauseous feeling that starts to bubble, Katie walks in. The nervous feeling increases tenfold as you sit down attempting to combat the dizziness you suddenly feel.

'Everything alright Y/n?' Caitlin asks with a worried look.

This catches the attention of almost every player. You can feel the eyes of everyone in the room burning into your skin. You simply nod, hoping it's enough the relieve their worries and draw the attention away from you. Most of them accepted the gesture and returned to what they were doing. But you could still feel eyes on you. As you looked up, you make eye contact with Caitlin and manage a weak smile, still seated and trying to calm yourself down.

'She's probably just worried about missing every shot and disappointing everyone. Like normal' Katie pipes up.

'Can we please not do this right now' you whisper, unable to do much more with the overwhelming feelings of pure fear and nervousness.

'What was that, darling?' Katie says with a condescending smile.

The look on her face has you ready to walk out. But this is an important game for your team and you don't want to let her win this ridiculous feud she seems to have created.

'Nothing asshole' you reply. Eyes still trained on your boots.

'What did you just call me?' Katie responds angrily.

As she slowly approaches you from the other side of the locker room, Steph steps up to her and tells her to back off, pointing out that not only did she start it but she always starts it and right now everyone needs to focus on the game.

But you don't realise Steph had stopped her, stuck in a trance as you wait for her to be standing above you, angry and ready to go.

The thought has you nearly hyperventilating.

Normally you would just roll your eyes and move on despite Katie's cruelty. But with already being on the verge of a panic attack, Katie's clear anger sent you into a new level of fear.

As you abruptly stand and attempt to leave the room, Steph turns around and holds your arms, trying to get you to meet her eyes as your breathing picks up.

'Hey, what's wrong?' Steph calmly asks.

You quickly glance up at her, eyes wide and hands shaking, you simply shake your head and attempt to turn and run. Steph, being stronger and taller, is able to keep hold of you as you try to wiggle out of her grip.

She pulls your head against her chest and she orders everyone out of the room. Caitlin Foord moves around next to Steph and does her best to help your breathing settle while Katie just stands there looking shocked and guilty. Nothing seems to help you calm down as Steph keeps holding you and Caitlin keeps talking to you.

Katie, finally stepping in moves to your side and pushes Caitlin out of the way and stands in front of you. She watches as your eyes frantically move around the locker room and your body shakes in Catley's arms. 

'Y/n, look at me' Katie's firm and demanding voice draws your attention to her as you make eye contact with the woman.  She wraps an arm around your waist and firmly squeezes in attempt to ground you.

'What are 5 things you can see?' she gently asks.

'You....Cait....the benches....the clock on the wall....bags' you manage through your rough breathing and frantic form.

'Good job love, now what are 4 things you can feel?' Katie asks

'Steph...your hand on my waist...and, I don't know, i'm sorry.' you squeak out as your breathing starts to pick up again.

'That's okay, you're doing so good. Keep going for me yeah? What are 3 things you can hear?' She tried again to calm you down.

'Your voice...Steph's heart beat..the team outside' your breath slowing near the end making it easier to talk.

'Good job, darling. Now 2 thing you can smell' she whispers in your ear having moved closer to you.

'Your perfume and and Steph's smelly jersey' you giggle at the end along with the other women, your breathing having nearly returned to normal.

'That's it darling, and what's 1 thing you can taste' Katie whispers looking at me as I stare at her.

'The gum i was chewing earlier' you mumble out in exhaustion.

'You did so good angel' Katie replies as Steph carefully guides your body into Katie's arms.

As you and Katie move to sit on a nearby bench, she moves you to have you straddling her waist as she leans against the wall, your head falling into her neck as you near the point of sleep.

'I'm so sorry I hurt you' you hear Katie whisper before you fall asleep against her.

_____________________________

As you come to, groggy and still drained, Katie makes her presence know.

'You're okay, i'm here' she mumbles into your hair.

You quickly shoot up after hearing her voice and realising she wasn't just next to you, she was under you.

As you try to remove yourself from on her you mumble a quick 'I'm sorry'. But before you could finish your apology or move, Katie pulled you back down on top of her and whispered to you

'No, i'm sorry. I had no right to treat you the way i did. I was awful to you to the point where I caused you a panic attack. I never realised how much i was hurting you. I'm so sorry, Y/n.'

You listen to her with your head in her neck, the same way you fell asleep and  woke up. You thought about what she said and couldn't help but ask;

'Why do you hate me Katie?'

'I don't hate you darling.' she replies

'Then why' you ask angrily

'I didn't mean for it to go this far. It started as just a thing we do to the new players but I took it way too far. It was never my intention to be so cruel and rude. It was meant to be a joke. I promise you I do not hate you, I could never hate you.' she whispered the last part, mostly to herself but you heard her.

You sat up to look at her.

'What's that supposed to mean?' you stare at her as she looks away, unable to make eye contact.

'Ever since you joined the team, I haven't been able to get you off my mind. Maybe it's why i took it too far, so annoyed that you were all i could think about, I tried to hate you and give you a reason to hate me.' she says, finally meeting my eyes.

'What are you saying Katie?' you ask, demanding a straight forward answer to clear the confusion and surprise.

'I'm saying I love you Y/n Y/l/n. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I know i've been so awful to you but I can't help but love you.'

You sit on top of her, holding yourself up with your hands on her shoulders, hers on your waist, completely shocked. You've always admired her and had the biggest crush on her but to hear her confess her love to you made your heart sore and brings you to the point of near tears.

'I'm sorry, please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you upset i-'

Her sentence cut off by your lips on hers. This feels so perfect, like this is the way it's meant to be. You melt into her and the contact as she runs her hands up and down your back as you make out in the change rooms. Oh no. The game.

You abruptly rip yourself off her as she jumps up to calm you down.

'The game. Oh my god I forgot about it. What time is it? When does it start?' You frantically spit out spinning in circles trying to settle your mind and pull yourself together preparing to play, until a hand on your waist and face draw your attention back to the Irish woman and her smirk.

'Hey, it's over, it's okay. We won. Steph went to tell Jonas we were sick or something, whatever she came up with. It's all okay, you're okay love.' she says and her smirk only grows at the way you react to her touch, arms curl around her neck as you place your forehead against hers.

'I can't believe you let me sleep through it, asshole' you say against her as she laughs.

'There'll be plenty more games to play darlin'. Now should we head off?' she asks

'Yeah I wanna go home to bed, i'm so tired.' you state. Katie looks at you guiltily and says;

'I'm sorry I hurt you, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you baby'

'Please, just don't do it again. Please don't hurt me.' you beg as Katie wraps her arms around you and says

'Never. I would never dream of hurting you y/n. I promise love' she says on the verge of tears

You lean into her and look up at her.

'I love you, Katie McCabe'

She smiles, looks in your eyes and says

'I love you, Y/n Y/l/n'

You smile at her. After you two have gathered your things, you walk out to see Steph and Caitlin, giving them both a hug, assuring them you're okay and thanking them for helping you. Steph kisses you on the head and warns Katie not to hurt you while you're hugging Cait. You walk out of the stadium hand in hand with Katie and head back to your house. As soon as you enter the house, Katie picks you up and runs into what she assumes is your bedroom and throws you on the bed, climbing on top of you as you both burst into a fit of giggles.

'Cmon pretty girl, let's get some rest' she smiles at you and then kisses you.

You both get changed out of your kits into more comfy clothes and climb into bed. While you lay on top of her like a koala, she has one arm wrapped around your thigh and the other across your back.

As you slowly drift off to sleep you hear her whisper;

'I love you, darling. Thank you for giving me a chance'

Before sleep consumes you, you mange a response.

'Love you Katie, always have, always will'

The woman below you smiles, as she hears your breathing even out before following your lead and falling asleep.

___________________________

an: not gonna lie, never written in my life before but oh well lol

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER FIVE: OATS

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink

This is chronologically the fifth chapter in the series

---

The day after the failed feast Dr Lecter enters your unhappy chamber to find you already awake, greasily feverish in the maelstrom of narcotic hangover. Moaning under the dripping cloth of your bedsheet, you wince from the light that punctures the room as Hannibal draws back the curtains with a determined flourish.

"This is what happens when you do not eat and drink enough, I'm afraid," he says, putting a lusciously cool hand to your brow. "The excitement around the table certainly didn't help matters. Had you been receptive, then you would have been hydrated, full-bellied, and ready for the day ahead. Alas, your mulish nature is the portcullis that refuses you entry into better health. I cannot raise it for you."

You haven't the life in you to retaliate to such sanctimonious jibes, and he well knows it.

Humming a strand of Vide Cor Meum, Hannibal glides about you, first plumping your pillow, then holding a glass of water to your lips until you must either drink, or drown. In fractured gulps you salve your chapped throat with it, then part your lips again for a spoon of porridge; to your surprise, the portion spilled from cutlery to tongue is slim, a suggestion of treaty, of a temporary kind.

"I will never make you eat more than is reasonable, little one," says Hannibal, meeting your narrowed stare so frankly that you are almost abashed by the look. "It would do you no good to upset your stomach any further. I will minimise your intake for a few days, at least."

The suggestion is so unbelievable that you search his plain expression for the merest taint of trickery.

"You're not... angry with me," you observe, at last.

Dr Lecter's head inclines.

"Any ill feelings between us were settled at dinner, were they not?"

He helps you to the bathroom, stepping politely outside the door as you list at a sloppy port-wise angle, gripping either side of the bowl with preventative force; you may fall should you let go, humiliate yourself in the necessity of further care.

That Hannibal reverts to a veneer of nurturing aid after an episode of violence with such undisturbed ease frightens you, as does your instinct to accept that profferred assistance. Too many years span from here to the last time you allowed yourself to do so, and though you know well Dr Lecter's malign in having manufactured such frailty, you may never regain the position to resist it without him.

As with Will, your way out of this house is to drive yourself further in.

"I'll return home early today," says Hannibal, as he eases you back into bed in stops and starts to accomodate each shimmer of nausea. "I can reschedule my afternoon appointments for another time."

"Don't bother," you mutter, against your pillow. "I want to be on my own."

"I'm aware of that. Nevertheless, I will be here to monitor you. If you're feeling better tonight, then I will conduct your next therapy session."

Fear flowers at your core, all thorn tipped leaves.

"I won't be better," you say, your lips still crushed to starched cotton. "That promise I made to you about trying— I can't stick to that. I can't be the person you need. And I can't eat. It's too hard for me."

Hannibal lays a hand on your back, soothing you as he might an infant with colic.

"I know," he says, simply. "Relapses are to be expected. Neither Will or I will admonish you for that. What I will not tolerate is rudeness. I have demonstrated what will occur if you do not keep your tongue in check."

At this your head snaps upright against the pull of sickness.

"Aren't you rude?" you ask, sharply. "And Will?"

Hannibal pats down your coverlet, quite unoffended.

"One might argue that is down to interpretation. I pride myself on cultivating elegance, which includes manners, as a matter of course. Will, however, is— unique. I overlook his cruder moments for the complexity layered beneath them. As for what we have done to you, it is unfortunate that you cannot observe the act through our eyes, and perceive its beauty, as well as your own."

To this, you have no answer. You can think only of snaring hands, of Will's stubble scarring your cheek, and the blood broken like bottled wine across your inner thighs, so much ugliness paraded as glory.

"Please drink the water I've left out for you," says Hannibal.

You do, for he will know, if you do not.

*

There was something in that glass, or the oats, you comprehend, for when you are next conscious you are propped upright in a leather chair, only part returned from witless repose.

A metronome clicks at your ear, back and forth.

Lights flash and cease, white and black their blinking through the timeless night in which Dr Lecter has you drown. You sit, or swim in it; you cannot tell. The fungal spell of Hannibal's cooking robs you of both voice and tether to the earth. You could be foam in a Homerean ocean, where men become pigs on its alien isles.

You too might be such a beast, or a child, or some sylph of amorphous matter trapped in such hampering skin.

The sound of your breath comes, shuttered and sharp.

A warm hand cups your chest, and your lungs seem to open to its gesture as though by unknown magic.

Then a voice murmurs from a face before you, its shape without edge, an orb.

"You are safe. You are cared for. You belong."

Like a switchblade across your eye the light comes again, and you are part of it, an impulse that is all life, all one.

Hannibal speaks your name, grounding you to him, as to a stack in some wild sea.

"I'm going to ask you some questions now," he tells you. "They may be difficult. Try to answer them honestly."

There is only a man here, there is only light; you cannot refuse them.

"Okay," you mumble.

Hannibal's pleasure in your answer is a current timed to the swishing metronome.

"How did your eating disorder begin?" he asks. "What did it look like, then?"

"Just a diet, at first," you say. "The meals got smaller and smaller. Then a lot of food scared me. I started counting calories. Throwing food out. Being around anyone eating was like I was being tortured. That's when I knew that something was really wrong with me."

You hear the scratch of a pen on an unseen pad.

"I see. And how did that realisation make you feel?"

"Nothing. I didn't care. Then I started to like it. Challenging myself. The compliments— feeling like I had something nobody else did, that I was so good at— It became everything I was. My identity, kind of."

How easy it is to speak, when you cannot see the expression of the listener before you.

"Trauma frequently shapes us in our formative years," Hannibal comments. "It is a natural response to build oneself in its image. So, let us retreat to older memories. Tell me of a time that you recall being afraid."

The flashing light numbs to an ebbing glow.

"There was this guy," you say. "A guy that my dad was friends with. Still is. His name is Leland Frost. He used to come over to our house all the time. He was always so friendly, but I knew that there was something wrong with him. There was something in his eyes, the way he laughed too much, or stood too close to me. Like he was putting on a rubber Hallowe'en mask of a regular guy, and everyone was just pretending it was fine, but they really weren't pretending."

"Elaborate."

You gnaw at your lower lip until you taste warm iron, and consider spitting out the calories.

"I tried to tell people about it," you say. "But Dad could never see it. He'd just say, 'oh, that's just Lee. Silly old Uncle Lee. That's just how he is.' But I knew. I saw him. I smelled the cheap rubber mask."

"Did this Uncle Lee ever hurt you?" asks Hannibal, softly. "Touch you in an inappropriate manner?"

This memory is dusky, a cobwebbed photograph.

"I don't know," you admit, at last. "I always thought he wanted to, though. I always thought the minute my parents left me alone with him something bad would happen. The waiting was always the worst part."

A pause, in which you sense rather than see Dr Lecter watching you through the dark-light-darkness.

"But maybe it wasn't Uncle Lee that I was waiting for," you say, at last. "Maybe it was you and Will."

The gloom becomes further marred by tears, and you feel a box of tissues being pressed into your loose hand.

"That's enough for today," says Hannibal, rising from his seat. "You've done well for me. This calls for a reward."

He crosses the room to pick up a telephone, glancing at you with an unintelligible heat in his eyes.

"Good evening," he says, into the receiver. "I hope this is a convenient time for you. Yes, that is correct; I'm calling about your daughter's progress. I am very satisfied with her cooperation today. We are approaching some early milestones."

Hearing the tinny, distant voices of your parents, you struggle towards a lucidity that feels so desperately out of touch.

Hannibal crosses the room towards you again and turns the phone away from his mouth to murmur, "I will allow you a few words to them, if you will be sensible."

By this he means: if you do not give the game away.

You nod your head jerkily and extend a fist as Dr Lecter introduces you into the conversation.

"She is here, now. Somewhat tired, but all is well."

You clenched the receiver to your ear, tears coming in such a quick patter that, at first, you can only sit in hyperventilating silence as your parents babble at you, their voices sharp with an underlying guilt.

"How are you, honey? It's so good to hear from you! We love you! Is everything okay?"

Each day you've been parted from them you've missed them as you would your most vital structures, with a sore and deathly strength, yet your love is not so stark as your disappointment in being so abandoned by them.

"No," you say, at last. "I'm not okay, Mom. Dad. How could you send me away and not even warn me?"

The babbling rises, panic in male and female iteration.

"We had no other choice. It was all we could think to do! We tried everything. But Dr Lecter's helping you, isn't he?"

Hannibal's stare is, itself, a warning.

Pressing your knuckles to your anguished mouth, you pass the telephone back to him, not trusting yourself not to scream for help and damn yourself to the harshest punishment that such an executioner of free will might hand to you.

"She is overwrought," says Dr Lecter, apologetically. "I'll call again next week."

He hangs up, and leans across to clean the tears from your face himself, ensuring the tissue is discarded in a wastpaper basket; even in this he must be perfect, organised and pristine. You hate him for it, this performance he makes of his life, preserving such details as no one would be likely to notice but him.

"I wish you hadn't let me talk to them," you whisper. "Now I feel even worse."

"Of course you do," says Hannibal. "Your family betrayed you. It would be much more unusual if you held no resentment towards them at all."

You squint up at him in accusation.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Leaving a wound open may sometimes allow it to dry, and subsequently heal. You will not advance without acknowledging the harm your parents have done to you, whether through dispatching you to me without consent, or by ignoring your justifiable fear of Leland Frost. The map to your mental injury is unfurling before us: the continents take shape, as do the names that mark each turn in your unhappy life. In time, I will know them all."

Weeping, you slip down in your chair, not wanting to see the truth that thrusts itself up from the outcrop of evil.

"I will help you to your room," says Dr Lecter. "More sleep is in order, I think."

*

Will Graham enters the house some time in the night; you hear his low voice through the floorboards as you lie in swaying wakefulness, wondering what brings the professor here at so late an hour. He stays for so long that he accepts an invite into one of Hannibal's spare rooms, a fact that you discern from the voices passing your door in the hallway.

Again you sleep, though not pleasantly, your psyche disturbed by the third presence in the building, and by the lasting bruise of Dr Lecter's relentless torments.

In this sleep you dream of an antlered thing burying you in a terracotta wood, its face so darkly passive as soil smothers your airways that you might well be a bone, stored there to be gnawed at some late and starving hour.

When you emerge from this haunted slumber you still feel the threads of it still noosed around you; dream-sick, drug-thick, you stagger across your bedroom and, finding the door unlocked, tumble on into the hallway beyond.

By chance you find Will's room, letting yourself into quarters that smell of night-sweat, and pine, and male musk. You scarcely know what you do as you climb into bed with him against his salty heat, nor why it is he, of your abusers, that you seek.

Will starts awake, wild-haired and horrified as he senses your body beside him. Your name bolts from his lips, scarcely recognisable, the utterance of an animal groomed to speak a human tongue.

"What are you doing here? You should be in your own room."

Keeping your back to him, you drowsily reply.

"Had a bad dream."

Will breathes an ironic laugh.

"And you think you'll sleep any better in my bed? I destroyed you, remember?"

Self-blame, self-loathing, all jagged and tail-swallowing teeth.

"No," you mumble. "He did. Not you, Daddy."

You feel Will sit up behind you, scratching a hand through his unruly curls.

"You're not in your right mind," he announces, gruffly. "I'd better tell Dr Lecter to stop giving you whatever medication you're on. It's not good for you. No wonder you're having nightmares."

Still, he doesn't attempt to turn you out of bed, or to call Hannibal to eject you on his behalf. He only slouches, gazing at you, until you turn on your side to look back at his pretty, troubled face in its nest of brindled shadow.

Will's shoulders still droop in a mode of shame, yet the black of the room deepens the blue of his eyes into a yearning colour through which many a woman would gladly fall. He wants you here, you realise, perhaps likes the power he holds in having you soft and needful beside him, in his lair, after all he's done.

You should detest him for feeling it, and you do.

But recognising that craving within him reawakens the understanding of that power you may yet hold over him, in return, the mistress of a cur that bites all but those that direct the leash.

It is a long way off, this control, but the taste of it will do, for now.

"Let me stay," you implore, fluttering sodden eyelashes in a coquettish attempt to convince him. "Please? Just for tonight? I don't want that dream to come back."

You'll loathe yourself for this, in the morning, but now all you care for is the night. Will seems to be having the same thought, for he lies back down on the mattress again, taking care to leave ample space between you.

How does he compartmentalise his violence—his taste for it—from his revulsion towards you, and further still from the empathy that stirs in him like a stamped out fire?

"Just one night," says Will, sternly. "I don't know what Hannibal is going to say about this."

You pull the quilt up under your chin, almost giddy with your achievement, and with it the comfort that pours over you like a September afternoon. This strange happiness you will remember, and wonder at, when all you should have known were the tatters of despair.

"Dr Lecter left my door unlocked," you say, as Will moves in restless, settling motions at your back, still refusing to make contact with your skin. "So it's really his fault I'm here, you know."

At this Will half-rises again, but whatever question or comment he murmurs is lost to your abrupt slumber.

By morning he is gone, and you are alone again, only the scent of the monster remaining about you to mark out your miserable self-treachery.

He is not there to see you thrust the sheets against your face and inhale their bitter stink, if only to claw back the triumph of having made vulnerable a man so very closed to contact of the most human kind.

He is not there, and he is everywhere.

Will is as part of this house as Dr Lecter, now.

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Broken Melodies (part 2)- Christopher Sturniolo

Summary: go read part one if you haven’t.. does Chris and Y/N meddle their broken relationship? Does he just forget about it?

Warnings: none that I know of

A/N: honestly I wasn’t gonna make this a part 2 but I had fun writing this!

Weeks passed, and Y/N found herself listening to Chris’ song every night. It became her lifeline, a bridge between the past and the future. Each time she pressed play, she felt his presence, a bittersweet reminder of their love and the battles they both faced.

Determined to heal, Y/N decided to channel her pain into her art. She took out her canvases and paints, and this time, each stroke felt purposeful, imbued with the emotions Chris’ song had stirred within her. She painted scenes from their happier times: a sunset walk on the beach, their laughter-filled dinners, the quiet moments when they simply held each other. The apartment slowly transformed from a graveyard of memories to a gallery of love and longing.

One evening, as Y/N was putting the finishing touches on a painting of Chris with his guitar, she heard her phone buzz. It was an email from an unknown sender, with the subject line: "A Chance to Reconnect." Curiosity piqued, she opened it.

"Dear Y/N,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Olivia, and I'm Chris’ manager. He's been in a difficult place since your separation, but he's been trying to find his way back. Your forgiveness meant the world to him, and it's given him the strength to seek help. He wanted me to reach out to you because he has something important to share.

Chris will be performing an intimate concert next Saturday at the Blue Note. It's a small venue, and he specifically requested it to be personal and meaningful. He wants you to be there. If you're willing, please come. It would mean everything to him.

Best,

Olivia"

Y/N's heart pounded as she read the email. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face Chris, but she knew she had to try. She replied, accepting the invitation, and spent the next few days preparing herself emotionally.

The night of the concert arrived, and Y/N found herself standing outside the Blue Note, her heart racing. She took a deep breath and stepped inside. The venue was cozy, filled with a warm, intimate atmosphere. She spotted Olivia, who guided her to a reserved seat in the front row.

The lights dimmed, and the murmurs of the crowd hushed as Chris took the stage. He looked different, more grounded, yet his eyes still held that familiar depth of emotion. He spotted Y/N in the audience, and a flicker of relief passed over his face.

"Good evening, everyone," Chris began, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "Tonight's set is a little different. These songs are a reflection of my journey, and there's someone very special here who inspired them. Y/N, this is for you."

He strummed his guitar, and the first notes of a new song filled the room. This one was different from the last—it was a song of hope and healing, of finding oneself amidst the chaos. As Chris sang, Y/N felt tears streaming down her face, but this time, they were tears of hope.

After the concert, Olivia escorted Y/N backstage. Christopher stood there, his eyes searching hers. "Y/N," he said softly, "thank you for coming. I know I hurt you, and I can never take that back. But I'm working on myself, and I want to be better—for you, for us."

Y/N stepped closer, her heart pounding. "I can see that, Chris. Your music... it helped me understand. I'm healing too, and I want to move forward, with or without you. But I do hope we can find our way back to each other."

Chris nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "One broken melody at a time?"

Y/N smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "One broken melody at a time."

In that moment, amidst the echoes of his haunting songs and the promise of new beginnings, Y/N and Chris found a spark of hope, ready to face whatever came next together.

A/N pt 2: AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READINGGGG!!! I hope you guys enjoyed it and I hope you guys have a great night/morning/evening!! I love you as always

XOXO,

Gabs 💋

[m1dnyt3-w0lf]

Chapter 5: In A Month's Time

2,638

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

After the near mugging, I followed Miguel's rule to be accompanied by someone when I went out. Either by him or by Jess. It was usually Jess since she was taking me to different stores to apply to. I hadn't heard back from anyone after three days of applying. I was a bit bummed out, but it was expected that I would not get a job immediately. I still had the rest of the month to get a job, though. No sweat.

“Maybe you're not looking in the right places.” Jess offered after a bite of french fry. “Maybe try an office job.”

“I like being on my feet, and this may be the only social interaction I'll be getting. The last thing I want is to be sitting for hours staring at a computer screen when I'm already going to be doing that for my classes.” I told her.

“Fair point.” She agreed. She didn't let me pay for the meal.

I haven't spent a single dime since I've been here. Neither her nor Miguel would allow me to pay for anything. I was sure it was some kind of motherly thing for Jess. Miguel, however, I had no clue why he wouldn't let me pay for anything. He insisted he'd buy whenever we ate out, which was basically every dinner we shared. I had enough after the fourth day he paid.

“Miguel, I have money. Let me pay for it this time!” I crossed my arms.

“Save your money for school. That's more important.” He simply said as he handed the waiter the booklet that held the bill and his card. I huffed at that.

“That's why I’m getting a job. So I could pay for both necessities and fun stuff like this! And rent!” But he wasn't having any of my reasons, so he continued to pay for everything. It was mildly infuriating.

It wasn’t the only infuriating thing Miguel did. He seemed adamant that we shared at least one meal together. If it wasn’t breakfast, it’d be dinner. Never lunch since I was out job hunting, and he was…working. I think.

“What do you do at work?” I asked him over breakfast.

“Well,” he started slowly. “I engineer stuff.”

“What do you engineer?” I felt the space grow awkward.

“Biological stuff.” I frowned at his answer. He was being so vague, like he was hiding something.

“What kind of biological stuff?”

“Ah, that I can’t tell you. Top secret research, company contracts, that whole ordeal.” He sounded more confident than before. I pouted a bit at his answer.

“Aw, come on, not even a tiny bit?”

“Wish I could.” His weird watch lit up at that moment. He was quick to look at it, a deep scowl appearing on his face as he glared at his screen. “I have to get going. I’ll have Jess pick you up some dinner before dropping you off.” Then he was gone.

Many of my interactions were like this with Miguel. Conversations cut short, meals rushed, even being caught at midnight trying to eat shredded cheese just because he came home right then. I had no idea what being a bioengineer was like, but this didn’t seem right. He disappeared often outside his work hours. Honestly, it worried me to see him so overworked. I worried that paying for me forced him to need to make extra money. It made me more determined to find a job.

By the time the second week started, I had no calls, no acceptances, nothing. I was starting to get worried. I know things like this took time, but I was never good at being patient. I started finding myself pacing my room and willing an email or call to ring my phone. Obviously, that never happened.

A distraction had come in the form of a man. He was a little over average height with a long face, brown hair, and a bright pink robe. He had a child with him, a little girl with unruly, red hair and big blue eyes. The man had barged in and made himself at home.

“Is Miguel home?” He had asked. How many parents did Miguel know?

“Uh, no, he left for work about an hour ago. I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked. The man had his full attention on the child, so I wasn't sure if he had heard me. Right when I was about to repeat my question, he spoke.

“Aw, bummer! He always likes seeing Mayday, isn't that right?” He made kissy faces to her and made her giggle. “I’m Peter, by the way!”

“Okay…where’s Jess?” I asked him. He already established he knew Miguel, so he was good company.

“Jess is at a…baby appointment. Yeah, that's the thing.”

“Right.” I give a slow nod. Well, whenever you're ready, we can—”

“Oh, you wanna see some pictures of Mayday?!” Peter exclaimed, interrupting me.

“Well—”

“Ah, of course you do! Everyone does!” He interrupted again. Safe to say, I did not get to submit any applications that day.

He was very lively for a man who seemed to be in his late twenties, early thirties. He hovered over Mayday a lot and seemed so extremely aware of her all the time, even when he wasn’t looking at her. He moved with cat-like reflexes. No, he moved much faster. He was practically a blur. He moved almost as fast as his mouth did. He didn’t shut up the entire time he was over. Everything out of his mouth was either about Mayday or a joke. I wasn’t sure which I preferred to hear from him. He rambled so much that he was still talking my ear off when Miguel came home. He looked at my bored-out-of-my-mind expression and immediately kicked Peter out of the apartment, which still took another hour since Peter insisted Miguel should look at pictures of Mayday. Miguel had apologized with dinner, a fancier place than usual. For once, I didn’t complain. It wasn’t my only win of the night. I did, at least, convince Peter not to let me hold Mayday.

Around mid-week, my things started showing up in the mail. Three boxes had been delivered, none containing my clothes. I was a bit worried as the weather had started to cool sooner than I expected it to. With Jess's bike being my only form of transportation, I had to ask Miguel for a jacket.

“You don't have one?” He asked me past a bite of chow-mein.

“I have one, but it's too thin. I'd be a shivering puppy on Jess’s bike.” I told him. “I have jackets on the way, so I don't wanna buy another one. If I could just borrow one of yours, I'd be super grateful.”

Miguel had studied me for a few moments. I put on my best puppy dog eyes that would even convince my mother. He let out a defeated sigh.

“Fine, I'll see what I have.”

What he had was a dad sweater. The ones that zipped up to your chin and were nothing but fuzzy cloth. It kept me warm alright, but it also swallowed me. The dang thing went down to my thighs, and the sleeves were about two inches past my hands. I had to start wearing my belt over the jacket just to keep it in place. I had to roll the sleeves up at least three times just to have my hands peek through the holes. I had never felt smaller than I did when wearing his jacket. Jess tried, and failed, to hold back her laugh when she saw me. But it was all I had to work with until my box of clothes arrived. I checked with the front desk every single day for that box but came up empty every single time. No matter, I was sure the box would turn up eventually.

The third week finally rolled around, and I had nothing ready. I had no job, no furniture, and no clothes. The post office somehow lost my box of clothes. That was another two weeks' worth of clothes! I made calls and emails but came up empty. I didn't dare bring it up to Jess or Miguel. I didn't want them to worry about me. I could fix this. I just needed to buy more clothes…at some point. For now, I was stuck with my measly one week's worth and Miguel's jacket. I was glad I only packed pants.

Troubles aside, my first rent payment was due soon. I had money to cover it with no problem, but it didn’t stop me from worrying about next month’s rent or my school supplies now that I needed to buy new clothes. My funds would be taking a harsh hit if the prices I’ve seen so far were anything to go by. It worried me. A lot of things worried me. My worries began to build up in me and turn into anxiety. I wasn't getting sleep. I stayed up late and, in turn, got up late. I found myself bouncing my leg more often than not. I was getting distracted and lost in my thoughts during conversations. Jess had basically given up holding a conversation. Miguel, however, kept trying. He even went as far as—

SNAP, SNAP, SNAP

“Wha-?” I blinked back into the present and focused on Miguel’s snapping fingers.

“Are you listening?” He looked annoyed.

“Of course!” I lied stupidly. He didn't look convinced.

“What did I just say?”

“Okay, fine, I wasn't listening.” I huffed, giving in immediately. “What did you say?”

His eyes studied me for a few moments. The silence stretched a bit longer than what was comfortable. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a strangely concerned tone. I was actually surprised.

“What? Of course I am. Why?”

“You're constantly spaced out, your shoulders are tense, you’re constantly bouncing that damn leg, and I’m sure your eyebrows need a divorce with how long they’ve been drawn together.” He stated. I was shocked with how attentive he was to my current behavior. I couldn’t tell if he was upset or genuinely concerned about it. He sounded like a cross between the two. “You’re anything but okay. What’s going on? Is someone bothering you?”

“No one’s bothering me! I don’t even know anyone here.” I said quickly. The last thing I needed was this giant of a man becoming my guard dog. A hot guard dog, but still the last thing I needed.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It has to be something.”

“No it doesn’t!”

“‘Nothing’ doesn’t force people into your state. It’s something.” It wasn’t even a question. It was a statement.

“I can figure it out. Don’t worry about it!” I argued.

“All you’re doing is worrying about it! You’ll worry yourself sick, let me help you!”

“I can do this on my own!”

“You obviously can’t if you’re this stressed about it!”

“I’m an adult, Miguel, of course I can!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Our voices had risen by now, our argument getting heated. Miguel’s hands had balled into fists, my own had started waving around animatedly.

“It means everything!” I shouted, slamming my fists on the table. The bang echoed louder than my voice in the small kitchen and silenced us both.The sting of the impact tingled the entire bottom of my fist. I glared at Miguel as if my stare could melt his skin off. His glare, on the other hand, disappeared. Something kin to realization crossed his face. His eyebrows had a different crease in them. He looked softer.

The silence stretched between us. It cloaked us and choked the air out of our surrounding space. In the silence, I calmed. The sting became a bit sharper. My heavy breathing now stuttered. My lip wobbled. The first tear fell from my right eye. Then another from my left. A sob barely left my lips when Miguel’s chair scraped the floor, and his arms were around me, pulling me into a hug. There was no room to push him away or to feel embarrassed. I don’t think I could’ve if I tried with how tightly he held me. I cried, no, wailed, into his chest and clung onto his shirt for dear life.

It was almost comical how, despite the obvious anguish I was exuding, I couldn’t help my wandering mind. I could feel every muscle of his body pressed against mine. Rock hard compared to my soft plush. He was also warm. His hold was comforting and enveloped me entirely. He was so gentle. I felt like a kitten in his arms. Something precious. It was an intoxicating feeling I wasn’t sure I was ready to indulge in. But, for now, it felt right. I found myself relaxing into his hold and calming down until I was only sniffling. I felt sticky and gross, yet Miguel continued to hold me.

Then, I heard it.

“Todo está bien.” I heard him mutter. My brain halted. Was he speaking to me? It was so quiet that I had completely missed it.

“Te tengo, chiquita.” He continued, rubbing his hand on my back.

Chiquita. It sounded so good coming from him. I listened to his reassuring words and let out a slow breath. I closed my eyes and leaned more into his chest. I heard his heart thump against my ear.

Thump-thump, th-thump-thump, thump-thump

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He rumbled. The bass in his voice rumbled through his chest and into my body.

“I yelled at you. I’m sorry about that.” I said. “I’m…I’m in a bit of trouble.

Th-thump-thump, thump-thump, th-thump-thump

His hand found its way under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him. I was already missing the security of his chest.

“What trouble?” He asked with knit eyebrows. He’s only known me for a month, and he looked absolutely wrecked with worry. It made my heart flutter to see someone who wasn’t family care so much about me.

“Well,” I started with a huff of breath. “For starters, the post office lost my clothes.”

“We can get you more tomorrow.” He said immediately. I was a bit taken aback by his quick response but continued.

“I don’t have furniture.”

“I’ll get some for you. I didn’t mean to leave the room so empty, honestly, but I wanted you to decorate your room however you wanted.”

“I have to worry about rent.”

“Worry about school, let me worry about the rent.” He said with a caress of his thumb. I didn’t like the idea of him buying my furniture and paying both halves of the rent. That was so much money.

“I don’t have enough money for school supplies.”

“I can help out.” He replied. Now he was offering to help with my school supplies? How much was I going to owe him?

“I don’t have a job.”

Miguel’s eyes looked into mine, silent after my final words. He looked calculated. There was a funny crinkle in the corner of his eyes. His eyebrows finally eased, and instead, one of them raised. He tilted his head a bit as if to size me up. His gears were turning, and I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy what he was going to say next.

“I have an offer.” He said. Dangerous words.

“What kind of offer?” I asked slowly, finally pulling away from his arms. I no longer felt safe in them if this talk was going down the road I thought it was going down. He let me move but held onto my arms, rubbing his thumbs lightly against them. He dropped the bombshell.

“Let me pay for everything.”

Translations

Ch 6

Tags: @crocs-blogs @madschiavelique @arithestrawberry @eveandtheturtles @obi-mom-kenobi @thelaundrybitch @symmetricalkazekage @raphsmuneca @tojishugetiddies @kazunewolfwood-blog

[recreationalfanfics]

Do you have any thoughts on older/jack the ripper dlc jacob? Personally i think older jacob is hotter than young Jacob- both are hot, but older jacob does something to me fr 😮‍💨 I honestly think Jacob would send his darling off to Evie during the whole thing or away with their children (if they had any) but still. I just like the thought of Jacob being a little more chill with his darling but also still being completely delusional over how the start of their relationship was love at first sight and totally perfect while their darling is just like 🤨 Jacob tells his kids that you and him just instantly connected whereas you’re biting your tongue from pointing out that you almost threw at a beer mug at his head 😂 I’m so curious on your thoughts- i just love this man lol

ANON, YOUR MIND IS SO POWERFUL. I LOVE JACOB BUT WHY DIDN'T YANDERE! OLDER JACOB COME TO MIND!? THANK YOU AND YES, I DO HAVE SOME THOUGHTS.

- I can imagine that first and foremost, he would definetly send you and any children you two have (should you want any) over to Evie or somewhere far away where Jack can't hurt you when he gets threatened by him.

- Also, since Jacob adopted Jack, imagine Jack being sort of like a platonic yandere but the kind of yandere who thought it would be more merciful to "free you" from Jacob by killing you, so Jacob being conflicted but also feeling guilty for not recognizing Jack and the darkness in him sooner (or even making it worse by filling his head with his ideologies).

- But yeah, no, at that point you have Stockholm Syndrome so you're honestly relieved when you return home and quickly become concerned when you see Jacob and when Evie leaves to go back to India, you caring and tending to Jacob and helping him adjust.

- And even without his other eye, the intensity of his obsessive passion for you is not dimmed by any means. It burns as bright as they cursed day he laid eyes on you for the first time. He's so happy to have you back in his arms safe and sound.

- Also, yes, older Jacob becomes a bit "fuzzy on the details" of how you two meet. He often jokes about how you "played hard to get" and by that, he meant "you literally tried to flee the country but his rooks cut you off and then brought you to him where he trapped you and kept you locked away from the rest of the world" and how you've given up on correcting him because he's so convinced that's what happened.

Older! Jacob: "I was determined to make sure they weren't the one who got away!"

Older! You: "Yes. Yes he was. Very determined. Scarily determined, some might say."

- Both couples old and young envy the both of you and women of all ages tell you how lucky you are to have married a man who was so handsome and so obsessed with you. If you were younger, you would've looked at them in disgust but instead, you nod your head and say: "Yes, there is no one quite like my Jacob" and when Jacob hears, he feels his heart skip a beat and he's suddenly back to being the love sick puppy he was when he first "courted" you.

- But yes he would be rather chiller the older he becomes and this is mostly because you've finally accepted that you're never getting away from him. If you make any bitter or passive aggressive comment, instead of pouting or being upset, he will chuckle or roll his eyes before kissing you because for all that sass; you both know that he won in the end.

- He also trusts you enough to go on morning strolls with him, his arm linked around yours as you both walk down the city just for the view or go to the market together and he isn't worried to let you out of his sight for a bit (Younger Jacob would've been stressing and wouldn't calm down until you were back in his line of sight) and he enjoys how the two of you have conversations instead of screaming matches, conversations where he is reminded of why he loves you so much and how he simply will never let you go.

- The mornings are nice the older you two get, your chairs next to each other as you read the paper and you feel Jacob's eyes on you, admiring you, studying you, enjoying the fact that you were finally his and his alone. Then he'd grab your hand and tenderly rub his thumb on top of your knuckles before he sits up to kiss your cheek. When you were younger, he would've had to grab you by chin to keep you from moving away but instead you stay still and turn to give him a peck on the cheek which makes him hum in delight.

[n03m1blog]

we have to start with lily and james alone because they are a sort of enemies to lovers trope

the man

Lily is simply the major girl boss because she is so sick of looking at men that lift up exaggeratedly themselves and she hates JAMES POTTER the most, between all the guys in hogwarts

and listening to his "fanclub" it's exhausting!!

also, Lily is a muggleborn so the fact that still today is remembered as one of the greatest witches

tells everything alone, she WORKED HARD

"When everyone believes ya

What's that like?"

"I'm so sick of running as fast as I can

Wondering if I'd get there quicker

If I was a man"

you need to calm down

James just thinks that she is such a loud lady AND he doesn't understand her like AT ALL

crazy lady... kinda attractive, but still

actually, he admires how stubborn she is in every argument so he is starting to let her win (that's what he said but we know that lily is just more determined)

"You just need to take several seats and then try to restore the peace

And control your urges to scream about all the people you hate"

i forgot that you existed

James starts to make advance to her, ha has eyes on ly for her

and Lily it's just there ignoring him because he is a jerk

"I forgot that you existed

I did, I did, I did

It isn't hate, it's just indifference

It isn't love, it isn't hate

It's just indifference"

death by a thousand cuts

James does not accept it and he KNOWS that one day she will his and he will make her lose her self-control

maybe, the others are right, not today

being a people pleaser and having feelings for someone that despises you it's hard yk?

"I get drunk, but it's not enough

'Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby"

and james is just thinking about those last years coming out all together and how he thought that they were kinda of sharing something, but no lily is not into him, isn't she?

cruel summer

that summer by the sea, they spent the night together in a tend

everyone thought they were intimate but they are a slow burn guys

Lily was falling for him and it was a matter of time

how could she let it happen?!?!?!

JAMES?!?!!?

" And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks up grinning like a devil "

" It's new, the shape of your body

It's blue, the feeling I've got

And it's ooh, whoa, oh

It's a cruel summer "

daylight

James can't control his heart at all, he is all hers

and he can see it now, she is AT LEAST seeing it too

"it's brighter now, now"

"i once belived that love would be burning red but it's golden"

the way the sun lights up his face, his body, his whole skin, his smile Lily is just staring the scene

\"i wanna be defined by the things that i love,

not the things i hate,

not the things that i'm afraid of,

not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night,

i just think that you are what you love"\

\and this is about how they see life the same way, i like to think that THIS is what they talked about in that tend all night long\

it's nice to have a friend

so they are starting as friends

"Wanna hang out?"

Yeah, sounds like fun

Twenty questions, we tell the truth

You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

Lily is telling herself "It's nice to have a friend" because it's insane thinking about MARRYING HIM lol

i think he knows

Lily fell.

"He got my heartbeat

Skipping down 16th Avenue

Got that, oh! I mean

Wanna see what's under that attitude"

"He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans

He's so obsessed with me, and boy I understand

Boy I understand"

James is all full of himself but she wants more, she is ready.

london boy

just little things about James told to us by Lily

"But something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

They say home is where the heart is

But that's not where mine lives"

SOMETHING HAPPENED!

me!

please, they are telling each other that they are soulmates.

James' "I know I tend to make it about me

I know you never get just what you see

But I will never bore you, baby"

to Lily's "And when we had that fight out in the rain

You ran after me and called my name

I never wanna see you walk away"

lover

these promises as they are getting married.

the song sings alone, they are both LOVER by taylor

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

they are a powerful couple in hogwarts you either hate them or envy them

you love them only if you know them

they are very bossy and they DO have a perfect attitude so if you are jealous of them it's understandable

and if you spread voices about them, you can't break THE couple.

she is a bad girl because every girl wants to be her and he is the heartbreak prince because he is would give everything for her <3

paper rings

James proposing in the best way possible

he would like to give her a BIG DIAMOND and a PERFECT MARRIAGE if she would just say so

or marry her rn!

such a romantic man our james

the archer

James has joined the order.

"combat, i'm ready for combat"

"I've been the archer

I've been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?"

"They see right through me"

James is such a good and brave boy but is he really ready to give his life?

his dad would do it so he should

he is a potter

he has to protect everyone, so he should.

and now he is trying to explain the situation to Lily.

"Who could stay?

Who could stay?

Who could stay?

You could stay

You could stay

You"

and Lily would never leave James alone even if she is pregnant.

"Combat, I'm ready for combat" she said to him.

false god

the war gives only sadness and doubts.

they were both exhausted but they never stopped loving each other, even tough it was a hopeless situation

the prophecy said that their baby is in terrible danger, harry will be the one to destroy voldemort...

they are all in danger but they will defend their baby with their life if they'll have to.

afterglow

again, as i said, they were always so tense

they just love eachother SO MUCH and don't want to be apart...

"meet me in the afterglow"

= meet me in the afterlife

(i'm sorry, it is just fitted sooo well <3)

soon you'll get better

Lily's love saved Harry and this song is just her singing to her little baby that everything will get better

harry had always such a hard life because he is the chosen one

and Lily had never stopped protecting his child

cornelia street

Harry walking trough Godric's Hollow for the first time

but it was so traumatic staying there that christmas that maybe he will never go there again

it is so unfair that he has no memory of his parents because he was only one, so he is imagining a life with them, a life where he didn't lose them

p.s. we actually don't know so...

i hope you'll enjoy it

love,

noemi