#UM WHOOPS THE ANGST SLIPPED

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month. 

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.  

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.  

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.”  You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.  

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.  

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.  

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.  

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you. 

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

 She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.  

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.  

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”  

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.  

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

(more tags in the reblogs/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 22

Prompt: Stormy Night

Pairing: Thor x Reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, not beta read, kissing, confessions (sorta), holding hands, sharing drinks, slight angst

Summary: You show the God of thunder your favourite spot to watch the lightning

Word Count: 2k+ (2054)

A/N: I am a big lover of thunder and lightning, I find the stormy weather really relaxing 💜 This was originally meant to be short and sweet but whoops my hand slipped and now it's over 2k ... - Love, Grem x

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Raining cats and dogs was the understatement of the century. It was raining a whole zoo as far as you were concerned, and quite frankly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Wind bellowed and howled through the compound, battering against the windows. You could still see the faint outline of the trees whipping violently in the winds through the rain and darkness thanks to the occasional flash of lightning.

Tonight was perfect.

You were in your fluffiest, most cosy pyjamas, nursing a mug of cocoa and shuffling quietly through the compound, to your favourite spot. You knew everyone would be busy; Tony and Bruce in the labs, if Vision wasn't with them he'd be with Wanda and vice versa, Steve, Bucky, Sam and Nat would be training somewhere no doubt and Clint would have headed home to his family (or perhaps he was stuck in the vents again).

Peace and quiet, for one lovely evening.

"HELLO Y/N!" Thor bellowed excitedly, spotting you as he exited his room. The scream you let out was horror movie worthy and you thankfully didn't spill any cocoa. You couldn't tell if you were offended that FRIDAY or anyone else in the compound didn't hear the scream and come running to your aid.

"Hey Thor," You smile weakly at him, feeling embarrassed at both forgetting him and screaming with fear. Thor just continues to beam at you pleasantly. The God of Thunder was a dazzling ray of sunshine; who knew?

Thor eyes your mug of cocoa and your pyjamas. "Are you heading to bed Y/N? Apologies for frightening you."

You shuffle a little awkwardly. You don't want to lie to him but you don't want it to come off as strange. Thor just smiles down at you, his giant self keeping you in his shadow. Wasn't Loki supposed to be the giant?

"It's alright. And, um, no. Not exactly."

Thor raises an eyebrow at you curiously and your stomach flips. Heat builds in your cheeks and you look away bashfully. He was stupidly handsome, but then you supposed he was a god after all.

It takes you a moment to find your voice again when you realise Thor is waiting for you to continue.

"I'm going up to the roof." You say with a small shrug.

"In this weather?" He asks, as a gust of wind smacks a sheet of rain onto the windows. Thor looks back at you confused, looking at your pyjamas. "And dressed like that?"

You wiggle your feet in your comically fluffy slippers. You weren't exactly dressed for the weather, but your hiding place always kept you dry.

"I..." you begin and then shake your head. "It's hard to explain without the visuals. But I'll be fine. This is my favourite kind of weather."

Thor breaks into another smile and you find you're smiling back.

"Really?" He stands a little straighter, prouder, hands on his hips. "It's mine as well."

"You are the God of Thunder," You chuckle. "I don't know why that's such a surprise."

You regard him for a moment, weighing up your options. On the one hand, you can bid him good night and head to your hiding place alone. On the other, you could spend more time with Thor.

Yeah. Option two was better.

"Come with me," you say suddenly, jerking your head behind you. You move to walk in the direction of the stairwell.

"Are you sure?" Thor asks, taking two small steps and closing the distance between you. "I don't want to intrude."

Your heart melts at the gentle giant before you, further solidifying your decision to bring him with you.

"Very sure. It's just up past the stairs."

The stairwell was quiet, save for the rain. Saying that, they were always quiet. Why use stairs when you had elevators? Or powers? Or an iron suit that could fly?

They were still required for health and safety though.

You sipped at your cocoa, treading up the concrete stairs to the door that lead to the roof. Your legs burned with the excersise but Thor seemed nonplussed and thankfully didn't make much of a fuss of how easy it was for him.

The door rattled with the wind and you huffed as you pushed down on the handle, edging out into the wind. You struggled against the door, the wind pushing back fiercely. Thor's large palm appears next to your head and pushes the door gently, sending it flying open. Meanwhile you get a face full of rain.

"Sorry!" Thor gushes as he follows you through the door. You sprint through the rain across the roof top with Thor close behind, to small building on the other side. Your cocoa is significantly more watered down by the time you fling open the door, half dragging Thor inside.

With Thor in the small cabin-like building it seems more like a broom closest. There's a beaten down sofa with a musty blanket and a small unit with radios, a microwave, mugs, a kettle and a mini fridge hidden beneath it. You'd guess it was a little cubby hole that was meant for monitoring in case of the worst, but it seemed forgotten about. Anytime it rained or stormed and thundered or if you just needed a break away from people - this was your go-to place.

"You're not allowed to tell the others about this place," You tell Thor, setting your mug down to tousle some of the rain out of your hair. Your eyes flicker back to him and you see that he's studying the small space. "It'll be our secret. Want a drink?"

Thor smiles over to you at the notion of you both sharing a secret but he shakes his head at your offer. "No thanks, not right now." He pauses, looking at the ceiling with wonder as a particularly heavy sheet of rain pounds against the roof. The roof was metal but the cubby was made from concrete breezeblocks, so you were under no threat of being killed by lightning. But it was that metal roof that made rainfall sound like gunfire, echoing around the small room.

Thor's eyes close and he sighs, making you smile softly.

"Nice, right?" You say, taking a seat on the sofa, pressing yourself as far into the arm as you possibly can to give him space.

"It's relaxing," He says appreciatively, taking the other end of the sofa, carefully avoiding touching you. You don't speak for a few minutes, focusing solely on the sound of the rain and then...

A flash of light illuminates the room followed closely by the unmistakable roar of thunder. You smile in the direction of the small window and once there's silence again, you speak.

"I like being close to it like this," You murmur. Thor hums in agreement, although you don't notice that he's looking at you. "I've never felt more at peace when the weather is like this."

That earns you a deep chuckle, that sounds coincidentally similar to the thunder outside. "You're probably the only one who thinks that."

"Maybe." You shrug, giving him a grin from over your mug. "But I love it all the same."

Thor shifts a little in his seat, raking his hands through damp, golden locks. "I've had it all day from Stark." He confesses. "He thinks it's my fault we have this weather."

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. It would make sense. Again, God of Thunder after all. "Is it?"

Thor looks sheepish. "Not on purpose."

You snort a laugh and another lightning flashes, closer this time, with another growl of thunder. You miss how Thor's cheeks turn pink in the white light from outside.

"Not on purpose?" You say excitedly. "Do you always control the weather like this?"

"No," He clears his throat. "Sometimes I just amplify it."

You nod sagely. "That's pretty cool. Well, thank you for amplifying this," You gesture to the window shaking in its pane. "This is the best storm I've had in a long time."

Lighting and thunder strike again and you shiver involuntarily.

"You know, I'm not counting the seconds between thunder, but the lighting seems to be getting awfully close." You shoot a look at Thor. "Do you think-"

Another flash and roar.

"Do you think we're in the eye of the storm?" You finish, silently hoping that that's what it was and that you didn't just bring an electrical conduit less than a foot away from you.

Thor nods but he's looking directly at you now, studying your face every time there's a flash of light. When you shiver again, he pulls the musty blanket from behind you both and tosses it over both of your legs. You mumble your thanks, watching the window to see if you can see the lightning strike. Another comfortable bout of silence falls between you and you sigh dreamily listening to the rain.

You don't move away when you feel Thor's fingers tentatively reach for yours, or when his hand rests on top of yours. Your heart does somersaults, though. The unspoken moment is far better this way. You turn your palm upwards, still watching the rain, and when Thor goes to move his hand away, you're already interlacing your fingers with his.

The lightning is brighter than it was before, the thunder is louder and the heat in your cheeks rises tenfold as you realise that the weather is reacting to how Thor is feeling. To test your theory, you squeeze his large hand in yours and, sure enough, thunder blares loudly with another lightning flash.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a smile as you look over at him. Thor has sunk into the pillows, hiding his beet red face with his free hand. You squeeze his hand again for funsies and he peeks out behind his hand with the most adorable puppy-dog eyes you had ever seen as lightning flashes.

"It's embarrassing," He flusters unprompted. "Do you know how often we would have thunderstorms when I was small?"

"I don't think you've ever been small," You tease and Thor gives you a shaky grin.

"Every time I cried or had a tantrum - thunder and lightning." He huffs, displeased. "Everyone hated it, apart from my Loki who found it hilarious."

You squeeze his hand again, no thunder this time, as Thor looks solemn; homesick.

Thor looks over to you again with a smile and you feel your heart melt and break all at once. No wonder he was always a little ray of sunshine; he was terrified of being hated for something he couldn't quite control.

"What's a little rain?" You shrug, offering a reassuring smile. You offer your luke-warm-but-really-almost-cold mug of cocoa to him and he takes a gracious sip before handing it back. You're both leaning a little closer now, hands still clasped together, watching each other.

"You're something else," He chuckles. "Another odd human. I see why you've stuck around."

"You have too," You point out, nudging him lightly. "You're just as odd as us, I'm afraid."

You brush a lock of stray hair glued to his face and tuck it behind his ear gently, your palm not quite leaving his cheek. His cheek is warm under your palm and you could have sworn you felt static. Your eyes meet and your heart skips - just as there's another flash of lightning. You smile. Thor smiles back sheepishly. Then you do something unexpected. You lean that little bit closer and nervously press your lips against his.

The sound that erupts from beyond the clouds is deafening. The light is blinding - so much so you're sure aliens have come to abduct you. Or well, maybe a god has.

Oh, and that was definitely static you were feeling. As you move back to take a breath you can feel your lips tingling with electricity, your whole body vibrating with a current and wattage you've never felt before. Thor looked like he was experiencing the same thing, just a lot more shocked (if you'll excuse the pun).

"Will that happen every time I kiss you?" You giggle, squeezing his rough hand again.

"I suppose we will just have to find out." Thor grinned, his heart skipping along to the beat of thunder outside.

[wuahae]

liminal space [11:32, friday]

xu minghao x f!reader; one-sided jun x f!reader

wc: 3.1k notes: college!au, soft angst, unrequited love, strangers(?) to friends(?) to ??, y'all i really don't know, feedback is very appreciated!

— in which you've hidden yourself away, hoping for someone to see. and then someone does.

warm light seeps through the crack beneath the door, scattering across the carpet in the darkness of your room. the noise on the other side comes muffled, music from soonyoung’s shitty playlist (he had called dibs, this time) blurring together with the cacophony of voices outside. briefly, there’s a loud cheer that rings through the house; junhui must have won his first round of beer pong of the night, judging by the whoops that followed.

sat on the floor at the foot of your bed, you bring your knees closer to your chest, tucking your chin in as you try to block out the sound. it’s almost a feat, how you managed to get yourself in this position every single time.

last month, you had told yourself you would really do it this time, that you would stand your ground and tell jun no, you wouldn’t be at the party he was hosting the following friday, or maybe ‘host it somewhere else this time.’ but then he’d looked at you with pleading eyes, expectation shamelessly displayed across his face, and your resolve crumpled like wet tissue paper.

and now here you were, hiding in your room after managing to slip away from all the commotion. it was the closest to peace and quiet you would get, for the rest of the night.

(you should have just gone with wonwoo and jihoon when they offered. they’d even given you a poorly veiled pitying look before they left.)

jun probably doesn’t even notice, you think wryly, picking at a loose tuft from the carpet. you’re sure your absence is far from sorely missed, especially with all the company they had over, not to mention the extra buzz and energy that comes with the alcohol. it’s especially why jun’s insistence on your attendance never quite makes sense to you, even after all this time—not that it really mattered.

junhui would always ask. you would always say yes.

a knock on the door makes your head jolt up. scrambling to your feet, you call out at the unexpected intrusion, tepid hope latching onto your heart. did jun finally prove you wrong? “yes?”

“it’s me,” the voice says, the quiet tone somehow carrying through the door. “minghao.”

the hope disappears as fast as it came. ah.

squashing the embarrassment that comes after predictable disappointment, you walk to the door and turn the knob slowly, peeking out from behind the open sliver. your eyes try to adjust to the sudden light. “hi.”

a polite smile. “hey.”

a long silence stretches between the two of you, even with the noise still blasting from the living room. you shift onto another foot, playing with the doorknob as a nervous habit. “…what’s up?”

“i texted wonwoo, he said you might have some hangover medicine in your room.”

“oh, i think i do,” you contemplate, pursing your lips in thought. “let me check, though.”

you turn, only to hesitate by the doorway when you look back. minghao is still looking at you. the doorknob twists once. “do you, um,” you offer awkwardly, “want to come in?”

he shrugs. “sure.”

the hinge creaks slightly as he opens it further to enter, along with a quiet click as it closes shut. you flip on your desk lamp, filling the room with a soft glow. rifling through your desk drawers, you try to ignore the way he hovers somewhere a distance behind you, shoulders bunched to shrink away from the awkwardness.

it always feels like uncharted territory with minghao, like you’re treading on a lake thinly frozen over. you’ve known him for the whole year, ever since jun first introduced you to the rest of his friends, but you don’t even think you’ve spoken more than twenty words to him in that time.

you don’t know if it’s for the lack of trying (you’ve befriended the rest of jun’s group just fine), but there was something about minghao that stilted your ability to talk to him—not that he seemed particularly interested to bridge the gap either. you supposed it wasn’t anything you were fighting for; it was something comfortable you’d come to terms with long ago, this vague acquaintanceship you’ve let remain stagnant.

you were just never really sure what to say with him.

“oh, here,” you say, holding up a bottle of nausea pills. “did you want the painkillers too?”

minghao shakes his head. “no, that’s okay, just the nausea’s good.”

you squint at him, bottle rattling as you hand it over. “i thought you were d.d. tonight?”

“i am,” minghao replies, something exasperated coloring his features. “these are for the people in the car.”

ah, you mouth. “better than a trash bag for each person?”

his lips press into a thin line, stressed at just the thought. “we’re bringing the bags just in case. i am not cleaning puke out of my car this time.”

you let out a soft laugh at that. “at least soonyoung lives here. one less person you have to worry about.”

minghao sighs, looking down at the bottle. “i’m grateful for that every single day.”

“unfortunately, that just means his mess turns into my mess,” you joke, taking a seat on the floor. your arms wrap around your legs again, curled back up to your chest.

minghao tilts his head. “wonwoo and jihoon don’t help out when they get back?”

“well,” you rescind, “our mess. but they’re usually too tired when they come back to handle whatever happens before the sun rises.”

minghao huffs out a laugh. “at least there’s only one messy drunk living with you.”

“ha, at least.”

a beat of silence. music continues to play muffled from the living room, the sound of clattering cups and ping pongs bouncing off the wooden floor.

“it’s quiet in here,” minghao comments, looking around.

nodding, you give him a tentative smile. “yeah, surprisingly.”

another beat of silence. soonyoung gets hold of the karaoke mic and starts his singing domination till dawn—or until he passes out.

“how’s the party?” you ask, immediately cringing. small talk was never your strong suite.

“it’s good,” minghao nods absently. “standard. it doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying much of it, though.”

tensing, you look up at him. in the lowlight, your eyes try to adjust his frame into focus. you try to imagine what it would be like to look at him wholly in the light, to know what the parts of him covered by shadows looked like. the way his hair rested at the nape of his neck, the shade of his eyes, where the slopes of his features began and ended. could you ever really figure him out? would you ever really know?

“is that rhetorical?” you end up saying, after a brief pause.

“just an observation.”

“yeah, well.” your hand finds its way back to the carpet, picking at the loose tuft again. “there never really is much for me out there anyway.”

“you really think so?”

you give minghao a wry smile. “i think i’ve tried to deny it for too long to not think so.”

an expression flits across minghao’s face, too quick for you to see what it resembled in the dark, before he points to the spot next to you. “can i sit? i think i’d like some peace and quiet myself, too.”

befuddled, it suddenly dawns on you as you scooch over slightly to make room that this was the longest conversation you’ve ever had with minghao. you can’t even manage a verbal response in your surprise, settling for a jerky nod before he plops down next to you.

neither of you say anything after that, sitting quietly as the clock ticks by. you try glancing at him, but you whip your head away before he can notice. you really didn’t think it would ever get this far; maybe you should have said no—(stop, you silently rebuke yourself. that’s rude to even think about.)

“can i be honest?” you try instead, breaking the silence.

minghao turns his head to face you. “hm?”

you bite your lip, contemplating on how to phrase it. “i’m just kind of surprised. you know, that you wanted to stay.”

“at the party?”

“no, like…” you resist a sigh, forcing the words out thin and pressed. hell. “in my room. with me.”

“what?” he raises a quizzical brow. “why?”

“i don’t know,” you confess. it seems stupid when you say it out loud. “i thought you didn’t like me, or something.”

minghao pauses. “what’s there not to like?”

you bite your tongue, enough for it to hurt and taste the metal. “no, nevermind. forget i said anything.”

“no, seriously,” he insists, and it’s something you’ve never heard from minghao before. gentle, but firm, like he won’t let it go until you tell him the truth. “what’s there not to like?”

but you can’t tell him the truth; you can’t lie to him either. there isn’t much you know what to say, when it comes to anything you haven’t already specifically curated per occasion. maybe that was why it was so hard with minghao—you could never tell what he wanted you to be.

“everyone sees it, you know,” minghao continues. “how much you care. it’s why they like being around you. they all see you as a good friend.”

your gaze shifts to the ground, giving a dry smile as you curl further into yourself. you almost want to laugh. “everyone, huh?” 

from a few familiar chords, you hear soonyoung starting his encore rendition of ‘don’t stop believing,’ with the extra tambourines and all. it almost does a good enough job of filling in the silence that hangs in the air, if only you couldn’t feel the hesitation from minghao before he speaks again.

“but you like him, right?”

“what?”

“jun. you like him.”

you whip your head towards him, eyes widening. “what?”

minghao has the decency to look at least somewhat apologetic about his bluntness, but it does nothing to quell your panic as you scramble to deny his accusation. except, the defense dies on your lips when you remember it’s not so much an accusation as it is a statement. you like jun. you know it, and he knows it too.

“how—how did you know?”

he gives you a borderline sheepish look. “it’s kind of hard not to tell.”

i seriously want to die, you moan internally, head falling back between your knees. “are you serious? is it just some open secret then?”

the ground might as well open and swallow you whole. maybe if you were lucky you’d walk outside and the zombie apocalypse would have started and you would never have to worry about this again—

“i think i’m the only one who knows, though.”

you stop. “oh.”

“yeah.”

“i thought you said it was obvious.”

“it is.”

something builds up in your chest, about to explode. “so why—”

“it is, when you know where to look.”

you open your mouth to say something in response, but you don’t even know where to start. all that really comes out is a little noise in the back of your throat, half of an objection that can’t even make its way past your lips before minghao continues.

“you’re not the only one that watches, you know.” your eyes flick to his, but once your eyes meet it feels more like he’s looking at you. like he’s latched onto you and you don’t know how to have him let go. minghao has your loose thread between his fingers, and he pulls gently. “maybe no one else notices, but we’ve been around each other long enough for me to see how you look at jun.”

your breath catches. “and how do i look at him?” (the question is less for minghao and more for yourself.)

“you’re the first one to see him arrive and the last to see him go.”

it’s strange. you never once thought you would ever end up in this position with minghao, much less tonight, where you had come into it determined to hide yourself away. and yet here you were, talking to him for what might as well be the first time with frayed edges and bared thread.

“what,” you try to deflect, a strained smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “a friend can’t do that?”

minghao gives you a pointed look, almost exasperated, as if waiting for that thread to finish pulling loose. “i think we both know friends don’t look at each other like that.”

you don’t think you have minghao figured out (your only solace is that you don’t think he has you totally figured out either), but he’s coming into focus for you, little by little. it’s why you allow that final stitch to unravel, loose thread pooling at your feet. “just me though, right? he, on the other hand, looks at me like a friend just fine.”

he hums. “you think so?”

you breathe out a short laugh, too realistic to be anything but bitter. “why else do you think jun asked me to live with a bunch of other guys? there’s no way he could think of me as anything more than a friend after that.”

there’s a pause, the type you’ve learned during the course of this night that means you need to prepare for what minghao’s about to say next. “then why’d you say yes?”

poignant. hard-hitting. you still don’t really know what to say in response when he asks you questions like these. there isn’t really much you can tell him either, not without sounding pathetic.

(junhui would ask. you would always say yes. you recognize the weight of this more than anyone.)

and as self-aware as you are, you also know that you just can’t say no to jun. not when you’ve loved him ever since he’d gotten all scratched up trying to feed the little kittens hiding in the schoolyard bushes back when you were 14, not when you’ve been with him through it all—the fake sick-days, the last-minute cram sessions the morning before a test, the time you’d opened the door on a sunday evening and he’d stood there mud-covered and scrape-kneed holding out a single four-leaf clover to you. because you had said you’d wanted it, because he wanted to be a reason for your good luck.

yet time passes and it stops for no one, and while jun has taken it in full stride, friendly and magnetic to everyone he chances upon, the same cannot be said for you. no matter how hard he tries to drag you along to every occasion, you realize it will always be just that—his hand tugging you along, you will always be watching him from behind.

“he’s my friend.” it echoes empty. you’re sure minghao can hear it too. “nothing can really change that.”

no steps forward and no steps back, you’re stuck in this liminal space, trapped in the memory of being that girl who cried for hours after she accidentally stepped on a snail on a rainy day, the girl who wanted that four-leaf clover because she was scared to go to a school without jun there next to her.

sometimes, you wonder if jun knows how you feel about these types of things and he tries to drag you along with it anyway. maybe it’s his silly idea of exposure therapy, that if he brings you to enough of these events and introduces you to enough new people that you’ll finally grow and change with him. but you’re not really changing, you’re just trying—for jun, who still doesn’t realize the smile you give him every time you say ‘yes’ is pressed and designed specifically to make him happy.

but minghao looks at you, really looks at you, and asks, “but you want it to? change, i mean.”

you draw in a short breath, quiet. “i don’t know.”

“then…” his eyes shine, distinct in the lowlight. “do you want to change?”

gnawing on your bottom lip, you rip your gaze away, staring back to the floor. you’ve thought about it over and over, especially on nights where you’ve hidden yourself away. a part of you wants to keep being that person, the one you know that jun will keep coming back to. it’s familiar, it’s what he knows, and there’s a security in that, for both you and him. you know what it means to change, to not necessarily be the person that falls into step with jun—and as much as you’ve wanted to be that for as long as you can remember, you want to start moving past that, even if it means you’ll grow into a person jun won’t recognize anymore.

“maybe,” you say finally, like defeat in the admittance. “i think i’m just tired.”

there’s a brief moment of silence, one where the weight of your answer rests heavy. minghao opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, seokmin’s loud voice bounces through the house, resonating.

“myunghooo where are you…! let’s go hoooome!”

minghao gives you an apologetic smile instead, shuffling to his feet. “i’m sorry, i think that’s my cue to go.”

“ah, no, you’re good,” you respond hurriedly, standing up after him and rushing to the door to open it for him. “i’m sure i’ve kept you here long enough.”

“hey,” he says, right as you twist the doorknob. there’s a gentle reminder in his gaze. “i wanted to stay.”

something lodges in your throat, something you’re not sure how to even verbalize, but you’re saved by another holler.

“myuuuunghoooooo!”

“coming!” minghao calls out, before turning to you. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

yeah, you mean to say, but the word gets caught between breath and speech as you look at him go. with the door open, the bright hallway light scatters throughout your entire room, the warm light from your desk lamp and the hallway blurring together into one; and yet, minghao comes into focus, all at once.

“minghao,” you interrupt, right as he steps foot out the doorway. he looks back at you, curious. “thank you,” you wring your fingers together. “for listening to me.”

minghao smiles, a slight quirk of his lips. “of course.”

as you watch him turn around, you think that this is the end of it, but then he pauses, for just another second. you blink, waiting.

“whether you choose to or not,” he says, and your mind flashes back to your previous conversation. if you want to change, if you truly want to let go of jun. “i’ll always be here, if you need anyone to listen.”

after the night has come to a close, when you’ve finished cleaning up the house and everyone has gone to bed, your mind swims with the memory of his words, the echo of the conversation still rushes in your ears.

and you think you might just hold him to that.

tbc.

please leave feedback if you enjoyed the fic!

[altocat]

To distract us with some angst…um…what would happen if Seph had to attend one of his lab sessions with Hojo and Hojo was especially cruel this time, only for Genesis to come across the aftermath? (i live for gen hating hojo’s guts on speh’s behalf and making life difficult for him when he has the chance)

Genesis hates Hojo with a passion, and always has. He's always been vaguely aware of what the scientist does to Seph. He also, in part, has a feeling he understands the truth about their strange connection. Not that he'd tell Seph this. In fact, he wonders if Sephiroth has guessed as well. Either way, messing with Sephiroth is HIS thing. And even then--that's just competition between friends. Not outright TORTURE.

In a severe instance in which Genesis has discovered a post-lab Sephiroth suffering mightily from Hojo's procedures, his first instinct is to go in there and outright murder Hojo where he stands. But logic wins out. Genesis knows that despite the fact that he has little qualms about killing Hojo, his standing in Shinra would be hugely impacted if he were to be caught. So he tries different tactics. He goads Sephiroth into signing up for a six-month mission far, FAR away from Midgar, wheedling a story about how Costa del Sol has been accosted by a murderous skyscraper-sized shark and how Sephiroth simply MUST be stationed there or else everyone will die! Or drown. Whichever. Genesis is a skilled liar, and can spin one hell of a story to convince people into getting his way.

Thus, Sephiroth gets what is basically a full half-year of vacation. Genesis spends the downtime plotting and when Sephiroth finally returns back to HQ, Genesis delights in introducing him to a new and improved Shinra Science Department, curiously Hojo-free. Turns out, with Sephiroth gone, Genesis very graciously volunteered his services to keep the scientist company in the meantime. And whoops, could you believe it? Hojo just so happened to slip one day during a private meeting! Cracked his skull clean open. What a mess. A TERRIBLE set of circumstances! Darling, Genesis was just SO shocked to have witnessed it! How unfortunate!

Sephiroth doesn't buy it. But he also doesn't really care. Genesis smugly purrs and asks him how his trip was, and if he got any sun.

[amaretigris]

Camping, Pt. 2

A/n: Whoops this part got a little smutty 😝

Taglist: @luna2034 @mylittlemermaid221

WARNING: EXPLICIT | 1.9k words | Fluff, smut, & angst

Tossing and turning, you couldn't get yourself to sleep. You'd probably been laying in the tent for half an hour now. Every time you turned to face Jonah, you saw his back and his phone screen illuminating the side of his face. You wondered if he was texting someone. A girlfriend, maybe. But what did it matter?

Rolling your eyes and letting out a frustrated sigh, you stared up at the top of the tent. You realized there was a window of clear plastic, letting you see the twinkling stars. Staring up at the moon accompanying them, the sight calmed you a little.

"It sounds like you're having trouble getting comfortable," Jonah broke the silence again.

When you looked over at him, he'd put his phone down on his chest, and was looking up at the skylight, too.

You looked back to the stars. "Yeah, sorry. I hope I'm not keeping you awake."

Jonah huffed a laugh. "No, it's okay. I'm not very tired."

Silence fell again and you heard crickets chirping.

"I've always loved looking at the stars. These burning balls of gas. They're so beautiful," you noted, almost to yourself.

"Yes. They're beautiful tragedies, aren't they? Destined to burn and die," Jonah remarked.

You looked over at his face again, illuminated by the moonlight.

"I think everything beautiful has a little bit of tragedy in it. Don't you?" You reflected.

Jonah met your gaze.

"I suppose so. Doesn't make it any less beautiful," he said, raising his eyebrows.

Feeling the heat of his gaze, you returned your eyes to the sky. What you didn't see was Jonah's eyes combing your profile.

You felt the need to break the tension. "What do you do, Jonah?"

You heard Jonah chuckle. "Oh, you know. A little bit of acting. Just trying to survive, really," he joked.

"That's great. You seem very talented," you smiled.

"Thanks. What do you do, (Y/N)?"

"I got a job right out of college working at a vet clinic."

"Wow. So you're much more realistic and stable then," Jonah looked at you and laughed.

You looked back at him and his dimples and giggled. "I mean, I guess. Less exciting though."

Jonah looked at you incredulously. "Sounds exciting to me. It also sounds like a job that requires a lot of compassion."

You looked down at your hands, fidgeting with the sleeping bag.

"Yeah. I love my work, it's just been a bit boring lately. I came on the trip this weekend to get away and change things up," you shrugged.

"Really?" Jonah eyed you curiously. "How much were you looking to shake things up?"

You took a sharp inhale before looking back at him. "Um, I'm not sure. Why?"

Jonah leaned closer to you, like he had a secret to share. You instinctively leaned forward as well.

"We could go for a late night swim in the lake," Jonah whispered.

You laughed and shook your head.

"No way. It's dark out, we'd barely be able to see anything."

Jonah pointed up to the skylight.

"The moon is full. We'll have plenty of light. Unless you really don't want to," he put his hands up, mocking surrender.

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment while you weighed your options.

"Fine. I'll race you down to the lake," you squealed, jumping out of your sleeping bag.

Trying to jump up but still being confined, Jonah wrestled with the zipper of his sleeping bag while you took off down the hill. Stripping your shirt on the way down, you waited until you felt the sand under your feet to drop the article on the beach. You quickly slipped your shorts off and threw them to the same side, running down to the water in only your undies.

You heard Jonah trailing behind you. When he saw you strip your clothing, he did the same. By the time he got to the water, you'd already dove under. He ran in, suddenly surprised at how pleasantly warm the water was.

Jonah saw you surface near him and began swimming towards you. When he got within range, you started splashing him. Before you knew it, the two of you were chasing one another in the water.

Laughing and trying desperately to flee, you weren't surprised when you felt Jonah's muscular arms wrap around your waist and pull your back to his chest.

"Gotcha," he whispered playfully, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

You felt goosebumps erupt on your skin as his breath fanned your neck. Without really thinking, you let your left arm snake up to intertwine your fingers in his curls. Something about the tension of the moment made you let out a sultry moan.

Shit. Clamping your hand over your mouth, you tried to withdraw your arm and move away from him, but Jonah caught your hand. You turned to face him. It was the first time you'd gotten a good look at him since the two of you entered the water in only your delicates, and you couldn't help but look down. His strong arms and contoured abdomen were beautiful in the moonlight.

Your gaze moved up to his piercing eyes. He was staring at you, waiting to see if you'd make a move.

"I'm sorry," you breathed. "I don't know where that came from."

You only realized that Jonah still had your hand when his thumb started making gentle strokes across the back of it.

"Don't apologize. It's alright," he whispered, looking down at your lips.

Nervously licking them, you watched as Jonah inched closer and closer. There's no way this was happening. Surely you were dreaming. You should probably pinch yourself...

And then his lips were on you. All needy and urgent. Nipping at your bottom lip and letting his tongue soothe the tender spots. You gasped into the kiss at a particularly hard nip, giving Jonah access. He slipped his tongue in and explored, noting when you moaned or tightened your hold on him. This lasted for a few minutes before the two of you broke apart, gasping for air.

His crystal blue orbs bounced between your (e/c) ones. You were afraid to speak; afraid to ruin the moment.

After a few pants of air, Jonah began, "Should we go back to the tent, or-".

You put your finger over his lips and nodded. He smiled against your finger before grabbing your hand and leading you to shore.

Once you stomped back up on the beach and grabbed your clothes, you were swooped up from behind. You yelped as Jonah positioned you in his arms to carry you bridal style up the hill.

You looped your arms around his neck and giggled on the way up. You had started planting little kisses on his neck and jawline when you heard him finally start to unzip the tent. Carefully ducking in with you in his arms, Jonah laid you down on his sleeping bag, and went back to zip up the entrance. When he returned to you, he kissed you again. You felt his hands start tracing your sides. The sensation gave you goosebumps all over again. His hands slowly moved up toward your breasts. Feeling your nipples pebble underneath his touch, he moaned into the kiss. Pulling away, you held eye contact with Jonah as you arched your back, and reached around to unclasp your soaked bra.

Sliding it down your arms, you tossed it to the side of the tent. Jonah's eyes raked over your chest before he looked back at you with something feral in his eyes. He kissed and nipped at your lips again, moving down your neck, and to your chest. It was then that you felt Jonah's growing bulge against your thigh. Gasping, you let him kiss and knead your boobs, twirling your fingers in his hair again. Whining, you started rubbing your thighs together.

"Please, Jonah. I need you," you gave him puppy dog eyes.

He looked up at you and started pushing his boxers down, kicking them off the rest of the way. Seeing his member spring free from his underwear, you were shocked at the size of him. Jonah's eyes came back into your field of vision.

"(Y/N), is this okay?" he asked as he started tugging on the waistband of your underwear.

You quickly nodded. "Yes, please Jonah."

Pulling your thong down in one swift motion, Jonah licked his lips, and returned to his assault on your mouth. Your hands on his back were pulling him as close to you as possible. Feeling your core throb, you knew what you needed. You felt Jonah grab his length and position himself at your entrance. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against yours, looking deep in your eyes. You nodded, giving him permission. With one quick thrust, Jonah was inching inside you. Easing himself in, he tried to move at a slow pace as he let you adjust.

Your thighs were shaking but you nodded at Jonah again to keep going. He pushed himself in as far as he could, bottoming out inside you. You gasped and moaned, clawing at his back. Jonah set a steady rhythm, pushing in and pulling out of you. It didn't take long for you to find your peak. Helping you ride out your high, Jonah wasn't far behind you.

When he collapsed beside you, Jonah pulled the cover over you, and cocooned you in his arms. He kissed the crown of your head before he drifted to sleep. You listened to the sounds of the crickets again, lulling you to sleep.

This terrible sound woke you out of your deep slumber. With your eyes half open, you swatted your hand around the bottom of the tent, looking for the offensive device. Jonah was still lightly snoring beside you. You finally spotted his phone with the alarm going off on his side of the tent. Reaching over and being careful not to disturb him, you grabbed his phone, shushing the alarm while you mashed the dismiss button.

You didn't mean to look at his phone. You really didn't. But as soon as the alarm cleared, his messages popped up on the lock screen. There were 5 messages from a contact saved as:

Ursula 💜

Hey! Can I call you?

_______________________________________________________

Hello? You haven't talked to me at all this weekend

_______________________________________________________

Jonah? Please call me back

_______________________________________________________

Are you purposely ignoring me?

_______________________________________________________

Call me. We need to talk.

_______________________________________________________

The only thing you heard was your heart pounding in your ears. You felt your adrenaline spike, dropping Jonah's phone on the pillow, and grabbing your clothes. You threw your clothes on as fast as possible and unzipped the tent. You had to get away from here. What had you done? This guy has a girlfriend? You didn't even ask him if he did. You just assumed he wouldn't do that. Why would you assume that? What's wrong with you?

All these thoughts raced through your brain as you stumbled out of the tent. You didn't realize that Jonah had woken up and seen you fall. He sat up and called to you.

"(Y/N)?"

But you were already gone- running away from the campsite. Where could you go? The beach popped into your head, but you quickly dashed that thought away. No. You just needed to get away.

[whitexwolfxx310]

Be My Valentine

Pairing: Bucky x female reader & Partial Bucky POV

Summary: Valentine's Day with Bucky

Warnings: Y/N, 18+, Cursing, Sexual content, Smut, Masturbation (F), Dominance kink, Teasing (F to M), Fluff, Angst.

Word Count: 2440

A/Ns:

-I know this Valentine's Day post is a little late...it was hard to think of an original idea without getting too over the top.

-I'd like to hear from the readers; Let me know what direction you would like this storyline to go. Life decisions, break up, kinks, family, etc.? There is no such thing as a bad idea!

-Last but not least, thank you for reading. It truly makes my day to interact with you all!

Previous Part

Master List

The one sided conversation has become indistinct as you keep glancing at your phone. It’s unlike Bucky to leave you on read, and on Valentine’s Day of all days. Your first one together at that. As soon as the phone screen goes dark on your desk, you instantly tap it to see if a notification has gone missed. It hasn’t.

“-I happen to have a date with leftover pizza. Maybe I’ll even treat myself to a pint of ice cream. What about you and Bucky?”

“Hm?” You answer, completely and obviously distracted. “Sorry…” Rubbing your face lightly to try and concentrate on the current moment. Sam sinks back in the couch of your office, laughing as he crosses his arms.

“You… Bucky… Valentine’s Day?” Sam says, trying to catch you up to the conversation with brief cliff notes.

“Oh! Um… no plans.” It’s hard to mask the slight disappointment. Sam’s eyebrow raises, intrigued.

“You mean to tell me… that he hasn’t planned anything?” He asks, slightly offended.

“Maybe it was different a 100 years ago.”

“Man…” Sam scoffs. “I’ll whoop that boys ass. Worst case, you’re always welcome to join me and the other singles in The Compound for pizza.”

You give Sam a polite smile as a ‘thank you’ for the invite. Hopefully you won’t have to take him up on it though. The thought is actually… unnerving.

“Same time next week, y/n?” Sam asks cordially as he stands up from the couch. You nod and smile.

“Enjoy your pizza.” You laugh, watching him walk out of your office.

Originally, ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ (so weird not calling him Bucky) was your initial patient and well… things developed, Tony thought it might be beneficial to do more sessions with Avengers that are veterans as well. Your newest clients are Sam, Rhodey, and even Steve.

As much as you try your best to suppress the emotions deep down inside, it's hard to ignore the feeling of disappointment. Maybe it slipped his mind? There are far more important things to worry about than an overpriced chocolate, expensive flowers that die within a day, strictly commercial, holiday.

And yet... What's wrong with a day to show a little extra love? This relationship is relatively new, maybe Bucky doesn't feel as though it's at that level just yet. Or, what if he thinks it wont ever reach that level at all? Your mind is racing as you hesitantly walk towards your shared apartment.

Standing at the front door, you're afraid to move. If you go inside and there is nothing, it's just another day, what does that mean? Is there even an 'us'? I understood what I was getting into. Maybe he isn't as emotionally available as you both thou-

The door suddenly opens. Bucky is now standing in the doorway, the dimmed lights of the apartment contrasting against his usual all black attire. The only hint of brightness being his pearly white smile.

"Hey..." You say, shyly. The anxiety is still buzzing around your skull like an aggravated beehive.

"Hey Sunshine." He replies, stepping forward and cupping your face with his warm right hand. "Happy Valentine's Day." He breathes, placing his forehead against yours, the smiling never disappearing from his face as he places the most gentle kiss on your lips.

He remembered.

Stepping back and to the side, Bucky places his arm across your lower back to delicately lead you inside. The sight at the end of the entrance way was something only a true romantic could have thought of. The entire apartment is illuminated with the warm glow of candles, too many to even count. On the floor was scattered red rose petals that even Alpine was enjoying swatting around. The delicate aroma of flowers surrounding you with each step that you take.

On the kitchen island where you two spend the majority of your time talking over his perfect pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice in the morning, is an enormous bouquet of sunflowers accented with red roses.

I didn't even realize that they made flower arrangements so big.

One of the most rememberable moments from the beginning of your relationship popped into your head; 'Sunflowers for my sunshine'. You turn to look at Bucky, who is still smiling but with a hint of nervousness as he awaits your reaction. His hands rubbing one another to ease his nerves.

"I...hope you like it." He probes, his voice unsure of the gesture.

"Like it?" Your smile matches the bright one he opened the door with. "I love it..." Standing up on your toes to reach his height, you press your lips to his, trying to show your gratitude through the passionate kiss. Pulling back after a moment, you look into his eyes with a small amount of suppressed tears in them. "Thank you, Bucky. This is...amazing. You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Besides, if I didn't Sam would have dug a six foot hole meant just for me." He laughs. If he only knew that Sam had basically said the same thing himself just a little while ago.

“Ok!” He claps his hands, which doesn’t have the typical sound you would expect; it’s more of a thud. “So…” Bucky excitedly strides over to the granite kitchen table top where the giant flower arrangement sits. He gestures towards two place settings that you had initially missed due to the vibrant bouquet that grabbed your attention. Each one has its own to-go coffee cup, and the plate in front of which you normally sit, has a giant cinnamon roll on it.

“I figured you might want some caffeine after work and well, you know how I feel about the coffee in this place.” Bucky let’s out a nervous laugh. “I asked the red head, at the café, Aly? I think that was her name… for your usual.”

He went out of his way to go back to the coffee shop where you each started opening up to one another. The same place where, unknowingly, you would let each other into the beginning of… this.

“You remembered?” You mumble. It wasn’t supposed to come out as a question, more of an audible astonishment.

“Of course I remember. Nothing has been the same since the day I first walked into your office, and I mean that in the best way possible.”

Is this real life? Is this what they describe in books and try to portray in movies? This… overwhelming feeling of your heart expanding to the point that it might explode? The wondering how you ever lived without this person? How is it possible that you two have lived in the same moment in time and not know that it was going to lead you both to right here? And you suddenly get it. This is it. This is what they mean when it is said that your world would stop spinning without this one. Your person. That instant shift where life as you once knew it was over and you were excited to see whatever was next.

You can feel the ridiculously cheesy smile pulling on your cheeks. The one that is so big, you imagine that you look like a horse. "Thank you. This is seriously the...nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." And it's true. It is apparent here that the feelings are mutual, what else could you possibly ask for?

"And!" Bucky exclaims, taking a few steps back and motioning to the stove, which already has multiple pots steaming from their lids. "I'm cooking you dinner." He smirks, he knows just how much you love anything that he puts out from the kitchen.

“OoOoOo!! Whatcha making?” You sit down at your designated seat, picking up your latte and taking a quick sip. Mmm

“Classic Italian sauce and meatballs over pasta. I think I finally got the right amount of spices, I think that you’re really going to like it.”

Picking a few pieces off of the infamous cinnamon roll, you smile again.

“I can’t wait.”

They always said a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I don't know if I would necessarily agree. Sure, I'm old fashioned in the sense that I grew up with a stay at home mother and a hardworking father. But the satisfaction of nourishing someone you care about, taking into consideration of what they like and dislike, and the warmth it can bring to them both physically and emotionally? I'm all for it. Food, or in this case, coffee was the first interaction I've had with the real world that wasn't revolved around a mission or thinking of how I could try and get others to see that the Winter Soldier was a part of what I was made into, but not who I am.

It wasn't difficult to try and think of something to do on Valentine's Day for y/n. While she can be an overthinker, she is a simple woman that can find a bright side to almost anything. The light in any darkness. My Sunshine.

Finishing dinner, I cannot help but turn sideways in the chair, leaning against the counter listening to her talk about her day. It's adorable how animated she is, using her hands to emphasize every part like a typical New Yorker. Y/N has the faintest blush in her cheeks that hasn't left from the moment I opened our door. I know I should be paying more attention to what she is saying, but I can't help taking in all of her beauty. She is the most perfect, fascinating woman on this planet. I still don't understand how she has opened her life, and her heart, to me- Probably the least deserving man.

"Earth to Bucky?? You're doing the staring thing again." She says, giggling. It's my second favorite sound of hers.

"Sorry," I say, shaking my head. "Got distracted for a moment."

"Ya' know...that's not very super soldier of you." She's being playful.

"You're right. I'm sorry- How can I make it up to you?"

"Hmm..." Y/N looks around, pretending to be thinking intensely. "I could think of a few ways."

"In that case, there is one last thing for you in the bedroom."

Her eyes instantly widen with anticipation along with an excited smile.

"You don't say?" She keeps glancing over at the bedroom. I can't help but reflect the smile and shared enthusiasm.

"I'll give you a minute. But only one." I don't think that I even fully finished the sentence before she jumped out of her seat and scurried into the bedroom.

Never leaving a moment unwasted, I start to clean up the kitchen. Cleaning, always cleaning. It brings me some sort of...contentment. A routine that I have welcomed with open arms after so many years of chaotic inconsistency. The pathway of petals along the floor is making my eye twitch. Out of my peripheral view, I see Alpine’s white fur starting to become spotted as she rolls around in the red rose petals. Chuckling I shake my head,

“Don’t get too used to it, pretty girl. It will all be gone by the morning.” I lean down, giving her a quick pat on the head with my right hand.

Keeping it in place, she gets up and starts casually coasting to feel my touch along her back. Turning around once I’m at the tip of her tail, Alpine then motions towards my left hand. She presses her cheek into my fingers, purring gently. I know what it should feel like, but due to the arm from hell, I physically cannot feel anything in it's entirety. The only reminder that it is even real is the scar tissue built up around the metal that's always numb, like a hand that's asleep. But that cat has never judged me.

Speaking of the only human that has never judged me... I'm back on my feet, realizing it has been more than one minute since y/n left the room.

"Y/N?" I call, but no response. The trained assassin inside me automatically jumps to the conclusion that there is danger. Breathe. It's safe here. She's safe, with me.

While actively trying to pace myself, I still get into the bedroom faster than I'd like to admit. Only to be met with the most beautiful, perfect sight I have ever seen.

She found the short black satin gown I had laid out for her. Not only did she put it on, but was in the middle of the bed propped up on one elbow- legs wide while she used her free hand to touch herself. I’m frozen in place.

“You’re gawking, Bucky…” Her tone is soft, seductive. Biting softly on her bottom lip, looking dead straight into my eyes- actually my soul- as she inserts her middle finger into herself. The surrounding fingers work collectively together to spread her folds apart, for my viewing pleasure.

“I-“ What do I say? What can I say? I’m in the presence of a fucking goddess.

“Come here…” y/n beckons, her breathing starting to become labored. Like a siren in the sea, I am completely transfixed and willing to follow her into the unknown.

My brain hasn’t even fully registered what she had said before my legs were leading me to the bed. Scooting to the edge, her legs draping off of the side while still remaining completely open, inviting me in as I drop to my knees on the floor before her. Ready to give myself over and follow every command.

I can feel her hands running into my hair, nails gently guiding the motion as she pulls me in close. With a deviant look in her eyes, her tongue flicks once across my lips. Fuck… She knows exactly what she is doing.

The warmth of her hands running down my side obliques give me the chills. I'm excited, anxious even. In one quick, smooth motion, y/n's removed my shirt and straddled herself into my lap on the floor. Her hips grind down against me, leaving me in agony.

"I-"

A pointer finger is now assertively placed on my lips as she coos, "Shhh." My body is fighting it's hardest to not be so fidgety.

"Longing...."

What?

"Rusted...."

I-

"Seventeen...."

What is she-

"Daybreak...."

She knows this won't work

"Furnace..."

Do I stop-

"Nine..."

Should I-

"Benign...."

Do I even want to-

"Homecoming...."

Where is this going?

"One..."

Um-

"Freight car..."

She stops. Smirking as her finger traces along my collar bone.

"Soldier?" Her voice is alluring. It clicks. She wants to roleplay and I am more than happy to jump at that gratification.

"Ready to comply." I sit, smirking, waiting for my full instructions.

Tag List: @peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead

Next part

[sarah--writes-blog]

The Graves Were For The Leaves

Anon: Prompt: big yard. Lots of trees. Lots of crispy leaves on the lawn. Follow?

A/N: Oh look, a TAZ fic! Real talk, didn’t think it would go like this, but I love how it turned out.

Spoilers for the entire Balance Arc, right off the bat

Taako, Magnus, and Merle always made a point to visit those who helped them along their adventure. It helped the underlying fear that perhaps some memories could be lost again. Sometimes this meant visiting large towns that fought back against The Hunger. Sometimes it meant having tea and macaroons with bugbears.

And sometimes it meant visiting graves.

The tree that sprouted in the middle of Goldcliff wasn’t exactly a grave. The two dryads that had crawled out of it were still up and walking about. But the way the petals bloomed in the middle of the desert, the way the masks sat side by side at the roots of the tree, the way it was right in the center of the city once ransacked by vines, and most of all, the way it was always so still and quiet around the tree - it certainly felt like a grave. Especially in the fall.

The hot desert weather evaporated all the water around the tree and touched each of the leaves to suck the moisture out of them as well. What was once a big luscious tree was now a large dormant stick, waiting for better weathers to come again.

The three Reclaimers sat down at the base of the tree and stayed in silence for a long while. After all the noise of their adventures, sometimes the silence was nice. The barren tree seemed to enjoy the silence as well.

Until one moment, without any set amount of time passing, the high elf stood up. The beach dwarf and the human looked up at him. Was it arbitrarily time to leave? Though Merle was the nature cleric, Taako seemed to have more of a sense for these things, at least with this tree.

But instead of a soft-spoken indication to move on, he put on a wide, buck-toothed smile, and large fuzzy boots magically appeared on his feet.

“I don’t know about you two losers, but I’m gonna crunch some motherfuckin’ leaves.”

The other two sat wide-eyed and stunned as the elf jumped high up in the air and stomped on the fallen leaves. The crunch was like he’d stepped on fantasy Doritos - a crisp and sharp noise that was almost orgasmic to the ear.

After the first stomp, Magnus immediately rushed in. He took the slow and sensual approach, letting his foot roll from his heel down to his toe with each step, shivering and giggling at the crackles.

The smallest Reclaimer had another idea in mind. He summoned Wind Wall and piled up over half the leaves into a mound before catapulting himself in.

The boys played in the dead leaves for as long as they sat in silence before. It wouldn’t have been as long if Magnus hadn’t issued a challenge to crunch every single leaf. Magnus wasn’t going to fail a self-proposed challenge. Merle wasn’t going to back down either. Taako simply didn’t want the good leaves to go to waste. So they crunched.

All that was left was the barren tree and hundreds of thousands of foliage bits, scattered into little bits and all stomped out. Just as when the IPRE crew arrived in the dimension, the centerpiece of Goldcliff was more lifeless after the boys visited. But at least this time, the graves were for the leaves.

[torusmistress]

caught blue handed (blue balls reference there)

steve harrington x gn!reader (one shot/drabble?? idk the difference) 580 words

warnings// unfaithful!reader, so angst?? , smut!! voyeurism??

prompt: your boyfriend calling you while they're balls deep, you not stopping when the phone rings, forcing you to answer and speak as if you arent clenching around them | credit: @meduim-rare-bimbo

m.list | navi

“fuck baby, right there,” steve says, his hands on your hips guiding you up and down his length. As obedient as you are you follow his orders and continue riding him at a steady pace. He starts to encourage you to be louder, the two of you were home alone anyways. His parents out doing whatever, “cmon let me hear you baby, no ones here anyways,” he says, engaging you in a sloppy mid sex kiss. You can only moan in response. The pleasure overriding your senses.

Your phone vibrates and youre too caught in the moment so you ignore it and hope it wasn’t your mother. It vibrates once more and then you hear your ringtone go off. You and steve stare down at the phone trying to get a glance at the caller ID so you start to slow down. You look to go see who it was calling you this late— it’s Jonathan; your boyfriend. the same boyfriend youre cheating on right now. Whoops. You froze and looked at steve, he didn’t even look the least bothered, if anything he had a smug grin. You figured this was a whole ego thing since he seemed to be still salty about Jonathan taking Nancy from him although you hoped this wasn’t just a way for him to get back at jonathan. “answer it,” he says grinning, you pause and started at him to see if he’s serious “now.”

So you oblige, hopping off of steve, well atleast trying to before he grabs you tighter by your waist and flips you over on your back. Putting his dick back inside of you as he reached for your phone on the bed side table. “what has gotten into you harrington,” you say laughing a little bit. He only chuckles back and answers the phone for you.

“hello?” you hear on the other side of the line “ba-babe wuh-whatsup?” you ask. “oh um well i haven’t heard from you and i called your mom and she said you weren’t home,” he says. “oh- uh fuck- i’m sorry Jonathan it must have slipped my -uh mind,” you reply trying to keep composure as steve mercilessly thrusted into your warm insides. “it’s fine babe.. where are you though?” he asks and by the way he asks you swear he already knows.

Guilt was starting to get to you and you knew jonathan was a sweet boy and you honestly didn’t deserve him Nancy kind of broke his heart and now you were going to as well. Maybe you should’ve broke it off when you left california. “hello?” he says again. “oh um- im with robin and steve, we’re- fuck i mean watching a movie,” you stutter out. Steve had sped up at a brutal pace if that was even possible. “oh you’re with steve?” he asks and you can almost sense the jealousy laced in his tone. “ye-yeah well i’m in the bathroom right nn-now though” you reply, jonathan hums in acknowledgment. “well me and argyle are about to go to his place so i’ll call you later, i love you y/n” *silence* “i love you too”

“what the fuck steve.” you say laughing, but feeling slightly guilty about what happened but still on cloud 9 from cumming so hard. “what? you liked it right? must’ve liked it enough to cum on me so fucking hard” he says back. something about making a person cum while theyre on the phone with their boyfriend boosts’ the ego. “whatever you little shit, one time thing” you say back. “sure. sure it is”

i usual write for anime characters but these prompts are too good although i could use some for anime characters (which i will in the future) figured why not write for “stranger things” also i love steve and jonathan that’s why i added the guilt part cause i love him sm i’d never cheat on you bae 😜

© ymylu (2022) reblogs are appreciated! ☆

[writing-wh0re]

I can have one where Peter is a fuck boy and unknowingly slept with Y/N (stark) and they meet at the tower on a group meeting day. (and he in front of the avengers pretends to be innocent). Love you

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

Peter Park x Female Reader - Tony Stark's Daughter.

Words: 3,625 - longest I've ever written.

Warnings: Smut18+, Vaginal intercourse, Male and Female Performing Oral, Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex, Fuckboy Peter Parker, Angst.

A/n: I hope you enjoy this, I took three hours to write and edit this. I got a little carried away with it (I think) and I apologise for it being sooo long.

So far your senior year had been amazing, you were destined to finish top of your class which would make your dad happy and you had also been offered an internship with him, which some of your classmates thought was bullshit but hey, considering you didn’t want to go to some flashy expensive school, you were doing pretty good, even with your dad’s help.

That was until you went out to your first party with your best friend Macie, she thought it was about time you let loose and have fun. You didn’t want to go and had even told your mum and dad who only encouraged you to go out, so that plan backfired. So here you were, standing in Macie’s living room, red solo cup in your hand while dancing with your best friend, happy to have listened to her for once and let loose.

“How do you know this many people?”

Macie shakes her head “I don't know them, they’re Tyler’s friends from his school.” I nod in agreement, looking around the room for Tyler, Macie's boyfriend who is chatting with a guy I’ve never seen before. His brown slightly curly hair, puppy dog eyes and a smile that causes butterflies inside of my stomach. Macie grabs my shoulder, following my line of sight before laughing and shaking her head.

“Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker” I repeat his name, loving the way it sounds as it falls from my lips. “He’s fucking hot.”

Macie laughs at me before nodding. “Yeah he’s alright, he goes to school with Tyler. He’s a bit of a ladies man but I don’t know too much about him.”

“He’s into science and technology?” I almost feel bad for questioning the boy's intelligence, judging him solely on his handsome appearance.

“Yeah, Tyler, Peter and a guy called Ned won their last science fair two weeks ago.” Macie informs. “Let's go say hi.” Macie grabs my arm pulling me through the body’s of unknown teenagers before we come face to face with Peter and Tyler.

“Hey babe, we were just talking about you.” Tyler pulls Macie into his side, kissing the side of her head.

My eyes fall to Peter, both of us smiling at each other. I feel my skin fall hot slightly as his eyes wander over my body. I mentally thank myself for wearing my red leather shirt and lace crop top.

“I’m Peter.”

“Y/n.” I smile before hearing someone clear their throat. Turning my attention to Macie, a cocky smirk on her face.

“Tyler and I want to play beer pong, want to join?”

“You’d have to be partners though.” Tyler quickly adds, before walking away with Macie to the table to set the game up, not even waiting for a response.

I look to my side slightly silently asking Peter if he’d like to join.

“I need words Y/n.” I take in a sharp breath at what Peter just said to me.

“Uh, would you, um like to be my partner for beer pong?” Peter licks his lips before smirking at me.

“Of course.” His hand falls to the middle of my back as he guides me to the table Tyler and Macie had just set up. Macie raises her eyebrow at me, causing me to blush and shake my head, knowing exactly what she is thinking.

“Okay so standard rules, but we haven’t decided what the winner gets yet.” Tyler states.

I watch Macie stand on her tippy toes whispering something into Tylers ear causing him to chuckle.

“Okay, the winner has to make out with their team member.”

I sigh at my best friend before nodding.

“Fine, okay.”

“Sound a little more excited.” Peter whispers, flicking his eyes from mine to my lips. I roll my eyes, ignoring his comment as Macie flips a coin.

“Heads.” I call quickly, watching Macie reveal the coin, heads being the winner.

Tyler throws Peter the ball, catching it perfectly in one swift motion.

“Fuck.” I whisper to myself, seeing him smirk slightly. He surely didn’t hear me, did he?

I stand beside Peter as he lines up the first shot, landing the ball into the cup causing Tyler to groan.

“Lucky shot.” Macie mumbles before lining up to take her shot, missing the cup as I pout.

“Awh Mace.” Macie narrows her eyes at me before flipping me off.

I grab the ball, lining up the shot, before I can let go of the ball, Peter’s hand falls to my elbow, his other placed in the middle on my back.

“Lower, otherwise you’ll miss and we want to win.” His warm breath fans my neck causing my heartbeat to pick up. I let the ball slip through my fingertips, missing the cup I was originally planning on but landing the ball in the one behind.

“That’s unfair.” Macie complains before drinking from the cup.

The game continues with us losing our lead, until the last cup for both teams. I take a deep breath, knowing it's my go and praying that I won’t miss this shot.

“Breathe, lower your arm, line it up and sink it.” Peter whispers, his lips against my ear, his hands placed on my hips. I follow his instructions, taking a breath, lowering my arm and letting go of the ball. The room feels like it slows down as the ball bounces on the table, landing into the cup.

“Good girl.”

An uncontrollable whimper leaves my lips which causes his grip on my hips to tighten, feeling my arousal pool in my panties.

“Holy shit, you won!” Macie cheers, clapping her hands as Tyler follows suit.

I don’t get a chance to respond to Macie as my body is spun around, my chest bumping into Peter’s. One of his hands cupping my cheek, the other still on my hip, his lips locking onto mine. I feel my body relax against his lips, putting my arms around his neck deepening our kiss.

Peter smiles against my lips, everyone around us whooping and hollering at our interaction. We pull away from each other, before he leans back in, quickly pecking my lips.

*Optional but I listened to this song while writing this next part*

“I love this song, Y/n come dance.” Macie almost squeals, grabbing my arm and pulling me from Peter’s embrace. “Was that as good as it looked?”

“God yes.”

Macie smiles at me before mouthing the words ‘she got that rich girl la vibe.’ gesturing to me as I flip my hair over my shoulder, laughing at my best friend. Macies hands fall to my hips, swaying to the beat with me, I place my arms around her neck singing the words with her.

Macie goes wide eyed slightly before letting go of my hips, I raise my eyebrow about to protest her actions before feeling a familiar grip. I tilt my head back, resting on his shoulder grinding my ass against his crotch, his grip tightening on my hips.

“Behave.”

I roll my eyes, spinning around in his embrace, without a second thought I lean forward, kissing up his neck before softly biting his earlobe.

“Make me.” I dont have a second to think before I’m being pulled behind Peter, a smug smile on my face. He drags me through the crowd, banging on the bathroom door before pulling me through the door with him.

His lips are instantly on mine, my back against the door, his fingertips running up and down my sides. I grab his wandering hand, placing it on my boob causing him to groan softly. I bite his bottom lip, pulling back as our eyes lock together. His lips fall to my neck, kissing and biting the skin.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

His compliment causes a shiver to run down my spine, my fingers running through his hair, pulling on his curly locks earning a moan from his lips. The warmth of his body leaves mine, grabbing my hips and picking me up, I softly squeal, shocked how easily he lifted me. Peter places me on the bathroom counter, tugging on top as I pull the flimsy lace fabric from my body, his lips instantly kissing my boobs, swiping his tongue across my nipple.

“Fuck.” I hiss, watching Peter pull my nipple between his teeth. Peter kisses down my body, pulling my skirt up letting it sit around my waist.

“You’re dripping for me.” Peter presses against my clit through the fabric of my g-string. I slowly rock my hips up, attempting to get some friction.

“Needy little girl.”

I whimper at his words, feeling myself become wetter by the second. A gasp falls from my lips as Peter pulls my panties to the side, blowing on my glistening heat.

“Please.” I beg, causing Peter to chuckle. He trails feather light kisses up my thighs before licking a stripe from my core to my clit. On instinct my fingers tangle in his hair, my head falling back against the mirror, mouth agape as moans and gasps fall from my lips like water.

“Yes, fuck.”

Peter slides a finger inside of me, causing my pussy to clench around the contact. His lips cover my clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves earning a hiss from me. Peter adds another finger, pumping in and out of my pussy, my hand slaps across my mouth, muffling my cries of pleasure. Peter looks up at me, using his free hand to pull my elbow.

“Let me hear you.”

I flutter my eyes closed, Peter’s lips on my thigh, sucking and biting the skin, his fingers still buried deep inside of me.

“I’m close.”

The second the words escape me, I regret them. Peter pulls away from me, standing to undress himself. Without a second thought I fall to my knees, looking up at him through my lashes.

“Naughty girl.”

My hands fall to his pants, unbuttoning his jeans before hurriedly unzipping them. I palm his cock through his underwear, a breathless moan escaping from his lips. I tug at the fabric, having his help to pull it off. His dick springs free, my breath hitching at the size of him.

I take him in my hand, pumping up and down slowly, swirling my tongue around the head. Peter bites his lip, his fingers brushing through my hair, his eyes focusing on my every move. I lick from the base to the tip before taking him fully in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down. The sounds Peter makes cause my pussy to ache, his fingers pull on my hair, helping to guide my mouth. I gag around him as he hits the back of my throat, an unholy sound falling from his lips at the contact.

Peter pulls my mouth off him, pulling me up by my arms, placing me on the counter again. I grab his cock, running it up and down my slit, causing Peter to chuckle.

“Someone’s eager.” I simply answer him by positioning his cock at my entrance, hooking my legs around his waist to pull him into me.

I moan at the feeling of him inside of me, his eyes flutter closed at the contact, moaning at the sensation.

“You feel so good.” I smirk at him, watching his eyes flick to where our bodies meet, his thumb brushing against my clit.

I pull Peter closer to me, locking our lips together as he slides in and out of me, deeper with each thrust, causing my body to tingle, the speed of his thumb picking up before slowing right back down.

I pull away from our kiss, trailing kisses down his jaw, running my tongue down his neck, sucking and biting the skin. Peter grips my ass at the contact of my lips, spanking me hard as I rack my nails down his back.

“Just like that Peter.” I whisper in his ear, softly biting his earlobe as he groans.

“Fucking so good.”

I feel the band inside of me tighten, my pussy tightening around his cock.

“Cum for me, come on baby.” My eyes roll back, shocks of electricity flowing through me, holding onto Peter tight. Peter moans against my shoulder, biting the skin before finding his own release.

Before he pulls out, Peter kisses me, holding my face in his hands.

“You’re incredible.” Blush heats up my cheeks as he pulls out of me, hissing at the loss of contact. Peter and I both get dressed quickly, walking back out to the party, moving through the crowd to find Macie and Tyler.

I lock eyes with Macie as her mouth falls open, quickly rushing over to me and pulling me away from Peter.

“You had sex.”

“Shh, don’t tell the whole party.”

Macie rolls her eyes, moving my hair over my shoulder before wincing.

“Have fun explaining that one to your dad.”

I go wide eyed slightly, turning to the hallway mirror and seeing three hickies on my neck.

“Fucking hell.”

Macie chuckles at my expense, pulling me with her to go back to Peter and Tyler. I frown my brows, Tyler now by himself.

“Uh, where did Peter go?” I question as Tyler shrugs. I quickly look around the living room, my eyes landing on Peter watching him slip out the front door without a word.

“Did he just leave?” Macie asks almost dumb founded.

“Guess so.”

“Don’t beat yourself up Y/n, just be lucky you didn’t sleep with Peter, he’s a bit of a fuckboy to be honest.” Tyler chuckles as I feel my body fall cold. Tyler looks between myself and Macie, choking on his drink slightly. “You fucked him.”

“I’m going to head home.” I mumble, Macie quickly pulling me into a hug, walking me to her front door, the same one Peter had just ducked out of.

“You can stay.”

“It’s fine Macie, I want to shower and sleep in my own bed.” Macie smiles weakly at me, pulling me into another embrace. “I’ll text you.”

Macie nods in response as I pull my phone out, calling Happy to pick me up.

--

The next morning I wake up feeling rough, hating that I mixed different alcohol’s and feeling off about having slept with a complete stranger, knowing how unlike me that is.

“Good morning Y/n, your dad would like to see you in the kitchen.” Friday’s voice bounces off my bedroom walls. I groan at the announcement, grabbing a scrunchie to throw my hair up in a messy ponytail. I quickly look over my outfit, sweatpants and a stark industries crop jumper, good enough. I grab a pair of socks before walking out onto the cold tiles.

“Friday summoned me.” I announce walking into the kitchen, seeing my dad and the avengers sitting around the table. “Oh awesome.” I whisper.

“And what time did you get home?”

“Eleven, maybe.”

I open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and sitting on the bench, facing everyone.

“How was the party? You’ll have to tell us everything.” Wanda smiles as I nod.

“Y/n Stark, what is that on your neck?” My dad bellows, standing up and tilting my head, looking at the hickies on my neck.

“Nothing.” I push my dad away as everyone at the table snickers.

“You did tell her to go out and party.” Steve states causing my dad to turn and point at the super soldier.

“Stay out of this Rogers.”

“She’s young Tony, let her enjoy her last few weeks of school.” Nat pipes up causing my dad to tut and sit back down.

‘Thank you.��� I mouth to Steve and Nat as they both smile and nod at me.

“So why do you look like you’re having a meeting?”

“We are welcoming a new member to the avengers.” My dad states, sipping his coffee.

“Right, so why did you want me here for that?”

“Because you haven’t met him yet and you’re both going to be interning for me in a few weeks, thought it might be good to be acquainted.” I nod in response to my dad, taking a sip of my water.

“They’re all waiting for you.” I hear Happy’s voice say as he walks into the room, all of the avengers stand and look behind me, I turn and look over my shoulder, feeling my heart beat pick up, my mouth falling dry.

“Peter.” His name falls from my lips in shock.

Peter’s eyes lock onto me as he swallows harshly.

“Peter, buddy, welcome.” My dad greets him like an old friend, his eyes moving from mine to my dads.

I feel a hand grip my forearm, a gasp pulling me out of my thoughts, I quickly pull out of the grip.

“Get out of my head Wanda.”

“He did this.” Wanda whispers gesturing to my neck, Nat and Steve both looking at me. I hold my finger to my lips, pleading with my eyes.

“How much did you see?” Nat whispers to Wanda. I don’t hear Wanda’s response as my dad calls me over to him. I quickly slip off the bench, Nat with a small smirk on her face. I sigh softly knowing they know.

“You called.”

“Peter Parker, this is my daughter Y/N Stark, she will be interning with you and is typically on our communications for missions.” My dad states as Peter puts out his hand for a headshake, I scoff before accepting his gesture.

“So what’s your ability?”

“He’s Spiderman, isn’t it great to finally put a face to the suit.” My mum says, standing next to Happy. Instantly, everything from last night makes sense, the smirk he had when I whispered, the soft touches, leaving the party abruptly. It all makes sense, he knew what he was doing. He could read me like a fucking book.

“Y/n is very fond of you, she studied your web abilities.” My dad states, causing me to run my hand down my face.

“Ah, well, maybe you should show me what you learnt and I could fill in any blanks.” Peter states, causing my dad to hum in approval.

“Why don’t you do that now while I get paperwork ready for you to sign.” My dad smiles. I feel a hand cup my shoulder, looking to the right and seeing Steve.

“Steve Rogers.”

Peter grabs his outstretched hand, wincing slightly at the grip Steve gives. I slightly elbow the super soldier, knowing Wanda told him what she saw.

“Maybe Banner should go with them, do you want a teenage boy to be left alone with your teenage daughter?” Steve asks, my dad sighs before chuckling.

“Clearly she was with a teenage boy last night, I’m sure Peter here is harmless compared to last night's company.”

I hear Nat and Wanda giggle before passing it off as something else.

“Go.” My dad instructs, I sigh, turning away from him and leading the way to the lab.

The walk to the lab is silent, only my dad’s voice bouncing off the walls asking the group why they’re being weird.

I walk over to my desk, grabbing the file on ‘Web Slinger’ and handing it to Peter.

“Take it.”

Peter’s hand brushes against mine before he grabs the file, sitting in the chair beside mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Oh yeah because you gave me time to tell you.”

Peter sighs, putting the file on my desk before pulling my chair closer to him.

“Could have told me beforehand.”

“It didn’t seem to matter, how was I supposed to know who you were?”

Peter stays quiet, his eyes looking everywhere but mine.

“Not like you stayed afterwards for us to actually have a conversation.”

“I had shit to do, people to save.” Peter states, now looking at me dead in the eyes.

“Fine, I get that but couldn’t you give me your number or some way of contacting you?”

Peter once again stays quiet.

“Did you tell them? Because Captain America seems to be protective.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “No, I didn’t tell them. Wanda Maximoff read my mind, guess she told him.” Peter sighs before I continue, “Look, we can just forget it, okay? You’re a part of their team now and we’re just going to have to move on.”

Peter’s hand falls to my knee, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of my sweatpants.

“What if we don’t move on? What if we start something?”

“Peter, I don’t want you to feel you have to start something because I’m your boss's daughter, if you want to forget it ever happened we can.”

Peter tuts, moving his hand from my knee to my face.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I meant what I said last night, you’re incredible” My heartbeat picks up, butterflies erupting inside of me causing Peter to smirk. “I have an effect on you.”

“Cocky arent you.”

Peter smirks smugly, before brushing his lips against mine.

“If you don’t want to try this, stop me.” Peter hesitates for a few seconds before I close the gap between us, kissing him. Peter’s hands move under my thighs, picking me up from the chair and placing me on my desk.

“Peter Parker!” Peter jumps away from me at the shouting of my dad’s voice. “You two have some explaining to do.”

Peter scratches the back of his neck, looking at me as I shrug lightly.

“Maximoff told me, I should have listened to Rogers, but don't tell him I said that.” My dad walks over to us, grabbing the chair Peter once sat in. “I’m listening.”

Peter takes a deep breath before explaining it all to my dad, leaving out a few details as I but in to fill any holes.

| | |

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Add yourself!

[flosbelova]

they don’t know about us

i’m back with another story lmao. also, after writing this, i realized how ironic it was. whoops.

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

florence pugh x reader

summary: you and florence have been dating in secret. however, when she’s involved in a dating PR stunt to promote her new movie, you start to get worried and wonder if your relationship will ever meet the public eye.

fluffy with a hint of angst.

warnings: language, smutt-ish (18+)

word count: 3.2k+

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

you and florence have been dating for almost a year now. surprisingly, no one has found out. sure, the paparazzi have followed you guys around, but you were always careful not to look like a couple. but because everyone loves rumored romance, fans had begun speculating about your relationship. however, both you and florence have denied these “rumors” and state that you’re just “very good friends.”

but the thing is, it kills you every time you have to deny our relationship with florence.

you and florence met at an after party from an award show and instantly hit it off. within a couple weeks, she had asked you to be her girlfriend and you being a paranoid person, you told her that you’d think about it. she looked hurt at first and you felt stupid for turning her down the first time, but you came to your senses and finally said yes.

ever since then, you have both lived quietly in peace. you noticed that florence seemed to be content with the way things were: “secret.” and since it didn’t bother her that much, you figured that it shouldn’t bother you either.

when florence started filming “don’t worry, darling,” you would visit the set often and stay in her trailer. no one ever really batted an eye because you were usually in the corner and no one ever noticed you. when she wasn’t in a scene, she’d quickly run to her trailer and attack you with kisses. God, your make-outs felt like they could last an eternity. but they were usually cut short as a crew member would knock and tell florence that her scene was coming up.

fast forward to now, it’s time to promote the movie. however, because hollywood is hollywood, articles immediately came out stating that florence and her co-star, harry styles, were hollywood’s new “it-couple.” this killed you inside, obviously. but you chose not to say a word to florence because you wanted her movie to be big and for her to get more recognition.

press after press, magazines after magazines, interview after interview, photo shoots after photo shoots, articles after articles, you fucking name it. “harry styles and florence pugh: hollywood’s favorite couple.” God it killed you to see it. it was EVERYWHERE.

your family and friends that knew about you and florence kept messaging you asking if you two had broken up. you had to explain over and over that it was just for press and nothing else.

but then, you thought about it. was it really just for press? what if she started developing feelings for him? what if she actually leaves me for him? am i not good enough? why do we have to be secret? would it kill her reputation if we said anything?

these questions were racing through your mind like crazy. finally, after much thinking and trying your best to meditate on it, you decide to ask florence the question.

—

it’s sunday morning, it’s a rainy day in LA, what an odd sight. you get your coffee and take a sip, enjoying the sound of rain hitting the roof and windows. you loved the rain.

you hear footsteps coming from behind you and feel soft arms embrace you. florence rests her head on your shoulder.

“good morning baby,” she says in her adorable morning voice.

you turn your head to face her and give her a quick peck on her nose. she scrunches her nose and oh god, your heart might as well have jumped out your chest. she was so cute every single time she’d scrunch her nose.

y/n focus. you have important questions to ask florence. fucking focus.

you let go from her embrace in which you heard a whine from your girlfriend. you walk to the kitchen and put your coffee down on the counter and ask florence to sit down.

“babe, can you please sit down? we need to talk.”

you can tell that florence was caught off-guard with the expression on her face. she sits down across from you and looks at you with a worried smile.

“y/n, is anything wrong?”

you can hear your own heartbeat at this point. in fact, that’s all you hear. suddenly words aren’t coming in your brain. focus y/n. focus. you take a deep breathe and come clean.

“okay, i know we’re a secret and it’s fun being sneaky and all, but i gotta admit, it’s killing me. i also have to admit that this whole PR stunt relationship with harry is killing me. look harry’s a great guy and all but—“

“i know,” florence says cutting you off.

“oh,” you say feeling somewhat assured.

“y/n, you can’t hide anything from me. your face said it all,” florence says.

“your face said it all,” damn your expressive face.

“oh,” was all you could utter.

“i’ve started to notice when you started to get distant. in that moment i knew that it bothered you.” florence says afflicted.

you didn’t speak. you couldn’t think clearly. did i really get distant?

“y/n? are you gonna say something?” florence asked anxiously.

“um, what are we gonna do? i mean, what are you gonna do? are you gonna say something? it’s been two months since the movie came out and people are still talking about it—“ you ramble.

“y/n,” florence cuts you off again. “you know how this shit works. it’s the ‘hollywood culture.’ things like this aren’t gonna die down in just a couple of months, especially for something this big.”

“then what’s gonna happen with us?” you ask hopelessly.

“nothing will happen. we just have to wait until this dies down, sweetheart.” florence says, reaching for your hand, trying to sound reassuring.

you pull your hand back. it’s clearly shown in your face that you’re conflicted and angry. “florence, i don’t want to wait for this to die down. i’m tired of us being kept a secret. i’m exhausted of having to explain to my family and friends that we’re still a couple and that this stuff is just for press. i’m tired of having to worry if you’re developing feelings for him. i’m tired of having to worry if you’ll leave me for him. my heart aches every single time i see you both on the cover of a magazine when i go grocery shopping. i love you too much to let you go.”

florence furrows her brows and looks choleric. “why can’t you just understand that i love you? why can’t you understand that this stunt is JUST a stunt to me? maybe because you’ve been so busy being so distant and jumping to conclusions. y/n, i’m exhausted too. i really am,” she says, her voice breaking. “do you know how much it breaks me because you’ve been so distant? this past month, i’ll try to hug you, and you barely hug back. and when i try to make conversation with you, you barely respond. i miss you y/n.”

your eyes are filled with tears at this point and look up to see florence with tears falling down, clearly heartbroken and in agony. on instinct, you walk towards her and pull her into a tight hug. florence hugs you back and instantly breaks down in your arms. you stroke her hair and kiss her on her forehead.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper quietly.

you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you made her feel this way. it’s true, you had been distant. you had been so caught up with worrying about the “what if’s,” and didn’t think for a second about what florence might have been feeling. this movie rested on her back and she had to do whatever she could to make sure that this movie was gonna get the recognition it deserved. even with this whole stunt, florence never questioned your relationship for one second. you did.

God, i feel like a dumbass.

you grab florence’s face and wipe the tears from her eyes. it pained you to see her cry, even when she was acting. only this time, she wasn’t acting. this was real. this was a real life situation.

florence smiled weakly at you and quietly said in almost a whisper, “i’m gonna say something soon. it’s about time that people knew.” she sniffs.

your heart dropped to your stomach. you started to regret even letting her know. i should’ve just kept my mouth shut.

florence clears her throat and continues, “it’s good that you brought this up. for weeks, i’ve been thinking how to bring this about to the public— i even confided in harry and asked for his advice,” she laughs softly.

you look at her with worry in your eyes and florence easily reads you like a book.

“don’t worry, darling. i got this handled,” florence says smiling. “also, pun heavily intended.”

you roll your eyes and chuckle lightly and hug her tightly once more.

—

a week after your conversation, you check your phone and notice that it’s filled with a couple notifications. you wondered why since your phone usually had tumbleweeds passing by. you noticed that your calendar had a very important notification. you went to check and oh shit.

how could i forget?

it’s your one year anniversary with florence and you completely forgot.

what the fuck is wrong with me?!

florence barges in the room with a big smile on her face and a tray full of food. she sets the tray on your bedside nightstand and kisses you on the cheek.

“good morning, baby! happy one year anniversary! look i made you pancakes with chocolate chips— just the way you like it— and look! i cut the strawberries to make them into hearts!” she squeals.

you looked at her dumb founded and all you could do was grab her face and kiss her passionately. she moans quietly and moves to straddle your lap without breaking the kiss. you move your hands from her face and move it to her waist and pull her in closer.

florence grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in much closer, breaking any other space in between the both of you. you feel her tongue run across your bottom lip to test the waters and you slightly open your mouth and let her tongue slip in. you let out a soft moan as her tongue touches yours. she breaks the kiss to catch her breath for a moment and proceeds to leave trails of kisses down your jaw to the crook of your neck. you feel her nibble on your neck and you couldn’t help but moan.

the sound of your moans have to be on florence’s top list of favorite sounds because what she did next made you jump.

as she continued to leave wet trails of kisses across your neck, florence slides her hand under your shirt and squeezes your boobs and runs her thumb over your nipple.

you move your chest more towards her, but as soon as you do so, she removes her hand and moves it back to your face and presses her lips gently on yours. she pulls back and looks at you alluringly.

you give her a pout. “damn we were about to get to the good part, why’d you stop?”

she strokes your cheek with her thumb, smiles, and shrugs. she gives you a quick peck on your lips.

“eat your breakfast,” she says to you.

“you’re a damn tease,” you say annoyed.

she winks at you and gets up from your lap. she leaves the room and you grab your tray and follow her to the kitchen. you took the plates from the tray and set them on the island table.

“why’d you get up? i made that to be eaten in bed! do you not get the concept of breakfast in bed?” she asks sarcastically.

“my bad. do you want me to go back?” you respond.

“no, you already made the effort to bring the food here, so we might as well eat.” she says.

—

“okay, i have a confession to make. i kinda forgot that our anniversary was today,” you say embarrassed.

florence chuckled, “i know.”

“well to make up for it, can i treat you out to lunch?” you ask nervously biting your lip hoping for a satisfactory answer.

florence had always been vocal about eating out because she didn’t want your relationship to be exploited. and because LA was always buzzing with paparazzi, you and florence usually chose to get food delivered or, florence would cook both your meals.

but to your surprise, florence says, “yeah. let’s do it.”

—

you drove to this restaurant in west hollywood that most celebrities were known to go to. they always had good services and their appetizers were scrumptious.

when you walked inside, you noticed how many eyes were on you and florence. you wondered why and then you realized… florence was holding your hand.

you tried to let go but florence tightened her grip and whispered in your ear, “it’s okay,” and gave your cheek a quick peck. you knew damn well people noticed that.

when you finally got to your table, you noticed how many heads were turning. your heart started beating fast, chills went down your spine, and your hand started to sweat.

after you got your meals, you nudged florence’s arm.

“baby people are looking.”

she looks up at you as she brings her food to her mouth and says, “let them look.”

you went back to your food and tried to focus on eating, but of course, you couldn’t. so, you checked your phone and you guessed it, your phone was buzzing with notifications from your friends and social media mentions.

“baby, put your phone down and eat. we’ll get out of here quicker if you finish your food quicker.” florence says, taking your phone and setting it next to her.

you sigh and continue eating.

after you both finish, you look out the window and noticed all the cars and people passing by. the view from the outside was so nice. the sky finally cleared up and LA was back to being sunny.

you didn’t notice it then, but florence had snapped a picture of you admiring the view from the restaurant window.

“alright, y/n, wanna get out of here?” florence asks.

“yeah, let’s go home.” you respond.

you insisted on paying the bill since it was your treat, and made sure to tip your waiter extra money.

after paying the bill, florence stands up and grabs your hand. your eyes widened for a quick second because she was holding your hand in public, once again.

that same night, florence posted the off-guard picture that she took of you and posted it on her Instagram with the caption: “my favourite view. happy one year my love.”

you decided to check your Instagram and saw that your photo was the first thing you saw on your feed. you did a double take because you couldn’t believe that florence had actually posted you.

you checked the comments and it consisted of avid fans who were excited, shocked, and in disbelief.

“OH MY GOD I KNEW IT”

“HOLY SHIT WHAT??”

“wait, what about her and harry??”

“i thought her and harry were dating?? i’m so confused”

“florence!” you scream out from the living room.

“yes, darling?” she screams back from the kitchen.

she walks towards the living room and as soon as she gets near the couch, you stand up, and try to hug her eagerly, but instead you both fall to the ground. you quickly get up and help florence.

“i’m sorry, but what the hell?” you ask in shock.

florence furrows her brows and looks annoyed. “what do you mean, ‘what the hell?’ you tackled me—“

“you actually posted me?” you interrupt.

she changes her mood and says, “oh that? yeah i did. i decided it was time, and believe me, i was getting tired of the stunt too.”

you couldn’t help but smile. you kissed her so quickly that she almost fell. “i love you so fucking much.”

—

the next day, your phone was still buzzing with notifications but this time, it was double the notifications. you decided to check your phone and saw articles supporting your relationship, saw other articles that explained hollywood’s infamous PR stunts, and unfortunately, you noticed that some articles were trying to paint florence as some sort of “cheater.” this angered you to your core.

why the fuck would they accuse her of cheating? that’s a whole wad of bullshit.

you get up from your bed and walk to your kitchen. florence was already there preparing coffee. she turns around and yelps.

“Y/N!” florence yells.

you laugh. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you.”

you walk towards her and give her a big embrace. once you pull back, you don’t let go just yet. you give florence a quick kiss and finally let go.

“my phone has been buzzing all morning” you say annoyed.

“yeah mine too,” florence says, looking defeated.

you notice her expression. you grab her hand. “baby what’s wrong?”

florence let’s go of your hand and waves off her annoyance, “i saw an article that called me a cheater and i’m not gonna lie it ruined my morning.” she turned around to the island table and took a sip of her coffee.

you felt your anger rise up, but you calmed yourself. you wrapped your arms around florence’s waist from behind, and hugged her until she felt better. as soon as you do this, she turns around and wraps her arms around you, returning the embrace.

“i’ll be okay. my publicist called me this morning and said that she cleared up any rumors or accusations.” florence says, sighing.

“okay, that’s good,” you say, stroking her hair. you gave her a kiss on her cheek. “is everything gonna be alright?” you ask.

“yeah. i’m sure they will.” florence says in a hopeful tone. “whatever happens, i’ll be okay; we’ll be okay.”

you kiss her gently and whisper, “i love you, flo.”

“i love you more, y/n,” florence returns, and presses her soft lips onto yours.

—

a couple of weeks passed and you and florence’s ‘incident’ was basically last year’s issue. magazines and articles had finally shut up and stopped accusing florence of being a cheater.

you had wondered why they would even call her that since the relationship between her and harry weren’t even real to begin with. almost everyone knew that it was a PR stunt anyway, and yet, they still called her that. fucking hollywood.

however, you had noticed that florence’s mood had improved more within the weeks since she was finally able to post you. any chance she got, she would post you. as much as it embarrassed you, you kind of enjoyed the attention. you enjoyed finally being able to go out in public, hand in hand with your girlfriend, kiss her, without a care in the world. you both promised to always tell each other anything, and both of you would do your utmost best to fix them. all was well in the world. you loved each other and didn’t give a fuck about what other people had to say. and that’s all that mattered. you both loved one another.

the end

[myysaints]

hi can you please write some mobius angst ahhh i love your writing

in another life (mobius)

mobius m. mobius x reader

summary: without mobius, what is left for you?

contains: angst, no plot whoops

notes: thank you for the request anon !! you're so sweet <333 for context, this happens between episode 4 and 5 when mobius is in the Void. enjoy!!

masterlist

!! SPOILERS FOR LOKI EPISODE 4 !!

The apartment is cold.

When you return home, having not even caught a glimpse of Mobius at all at work, you expect him to be waiting for you at the front door.

Usually, when you guys fight, he’s the first to make up. You’re far too prideful to be the one to try to mend things, and he is… Mobius. He’s Mobius, with his bitter morning coffees and gentle smile, with his messy hair and crinkled work shirts. He’s your Mobius.

But he isn’t anywhere in sight when you arrive. Instead of his kind eyes and bright smile, you’re met with silence. Unnerving, deafening silence.

You furrow your brows.

Sure, you two weren’t on the best of terms, but he would tell you if he was staying late at the office, right? He always does. That’s the one thing you two pride yourself on - communication.

And sure, maybe some harsh words were exchanged between you two this morning, but it was nothing that hadn’t already been said. And it was nothing a long, tiring day at work couldn’t wash away.

Yet, he isn’t anywhere in sight.

As if in response to his absence, the apartment you share feels all too big for just one person. Alone, in this large penthouse, you suddenly feel out of place. As if something crucial is missing. And you know just what it is.

What feel like hours pass, and you busy yourself with running around the house - Rearranging your furniture, dusting the random knick-knacks lying around, placing things in the kitchen back where they belong. You even find the time to do a full exercise video.

More feeling like hours passing. He still isn’t here.

You sigh, reaching for your TemPad. Maybe he sent you a message and you just happened to miss it. At the sight of the red bubble around your messaging app, your heart soars - But it comes crashing down again once you see that it’s only a co-worker.

Dammit. This isn’t like him. This isn’t like your Mobius. You’ve had fights before, and this morning’s wasn’t even the worst. Or was it? You don’t know, you really don’t. Everything feels like it’s too much. It’s just… Too much.

A sudden knock on the front door startles you out of your flurried thoughts, and you jump. Who could that be at this hour? You certainly weren’t expecting anyone. Unless…

Before you can help yourself, a smile breaks out on your face. It’s Mobius. Of course it is. He probably just forgot his keys again, like the forgetful person he is. How silly, he’d teased you about being careless just last week, and now he’s locked outside. You’d get a kick out of seeing him-

“Y/N.”

Oh.

Ravonna Renslayer stands at your door, her face stern and void of emotion. Ravonna Renslayer. At your house.

“May I come in?” Her face slips into one of artificial cheeriness, and you usher her in with shaky hands. How you wish Mobius was with you. He’d know how to charm her, how to ease the tension that’s steadily filling the room. He’d rub your hand and whisper comforting words to you. He’d be by your side.

You lead her to the living room, glad that you’d tidied the place earlier. “Please, have a seat.”

Seated across from you, Ravonna Renslayer is calm. She’s tall and serious and in control. She’s the quintessential poster child of the TVA, in all its unwavering loyalty and goodness.

“Um, is everything alright? I don’t mean to be rude,” you fiddle with the books on the coffee table, a desperate attempt to appear unaffected by her unannounced arrival, “But I wasn’t expecting you to visit so suddenly.”

“Unfortunately, things are far from alright,” she says, setting down the tea you offered her moments ago. You note how she barely touched it, feeling only slightly miffed by that. The least she can do is appreciate the tea you made. It’s difficult to make a good cup, given Mobius’s bad taste in tea brands.

Renslayer continues, “You’re aware of the mission Mobius most recently went on, correct?”

“The one at Roxxcart? The one where Loki got away?”

You’re aware. Mobius had come home, raging and frustrated that Loki, whom he’d put his utmost trust into, had betrayed him so easily.

You spent the night with him, in his arms, comforting him. It took a long time for the two of you to fall asleep that night, the weight of Loki’s disappearance and the mission’s “failure” hanging over you.

“Exactly. There was a… complication. And Mobius… He was part of that complication.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand,” you say slowly, shaking your head. What does this have to do with you? What “complication” is she speaking of? How was Mobius a part of that?

Why is she using past tense?

“You see,” she shifts in her seat, leaning forward. You blink, unsettled. “When it comes down to things, and I have to choose between the safety TVA and… certain individuals, you understand why I have to choose the TVA, right?”

What? You don’t quite understand, but nevertheless, you put on a shaky smile and nod.

“So you must understand why I had to… eliminate the complication.”

Your heart stops at that. “The complication? The same one… The same one Mobius was a part of…?”

Renslayer doesn’t respond, but the silence only confirms your worst fears.

You finally understand. You understand everything. Why you never saw Mobius for the rest of the day, why he never came home, why there were no messages, why his last seen on his TemPad location was off. Why he was gone.

“You didn’t,” you clap a hand over your mouth, the blood rushing to your head as you blink rapidly. No, no. This can’t be happening. There’s no possible way…

“I pruned him,” Renslayer confirms, holding her head high.

You let out a choked sob, collapsing onto the sofa as heavy sobs wrack through your body. No. He can’t… He can’t be gone… He promised you, before he took on this stupid, stupid mission, that he would be safe. That he’d stay alive. For you.

“I understand the pain you’re going through-”

“Please, just, stop,” you cut her off, unable to stand the sound of her voice any longer. "I'm sorry."

You never liked Renslayer much, always finding her too bossy and too overbearing, but now, you hate her. You despise her with every inch of your being, with every fiber in your body. You hate her. You hate her for what she did, for tearing the love of your life away from you.

You can’t even look at her, pushing past her to wrench open the door. “Please, I... I have to ask you to leave,” you say bitterly. “I need some privacy.”

She nods, resolutely, no emotion on her face, and gets up to leave.

The moment she steps out your door, the moment your door is shut, you break.

How? How could this happen? How could you let this happen?

You bury your head in your hands, the hopelessness of it all becoming too much. He swore to you, swore that he would always be there for you, that he’d always be there to stand up for you and protect you.

Where is he now, when you need him the most?

You aren’t sure how long you stay like this, curled up on the floor, back pressed against the cool surface of your doorframe, your tears staining your work clothes, and your throat dry from the frustrated screaming. You aren’t sure how long you sit there, thinking, trying to imagine a future without Mobius, a future where you don’t have the one thing you want in this miserable in-between existence. And you can’t. Try as you might, you just can’t picture it - wherever you will be, whenever you will be, you know you will miss him.

So you know what you have to do.

The buzz of your baton almost startles you. As you gaze down at the sparkling orange light emitting from its tip, you brace yourself, shutting your eyes and thinking of all that is good in this world, all that has been and has yet to be, and you think of Mobius.

What is life without him? What joy can there be in the monotonous, dull routine of case after case, imperfection after imperfection? How can you see in the darkness of it all if your only light has been extinguished?

You think of his kind eyes that twinkle and shine when he laughs, his tired smile when he stumbles into bed after a long day at work, the feeling of his lips pressed against your forehead when you’ve had a particularly bad day. You think of him.

And you press the baton to your chest, and feel yourself disintegrate.

[zenlesszonezero]

You feelin' fired up now? Make way for the undefeated Champion! Welcome to New Eridu!— PS5™/iOS/Android/PC | Version 1.3 "Virtual Revenge" of Zenless Zone Zero, HoYoverse's urban fantasy ARPG, is out now

[cloudytamaki]

so, this is how the summer ends • k.denki

⤷ genre: fluff, angst - quirkless au, everyone’s 21, set in LA

⤷ warnings: mentions of sex/implied sex, mildly suggestive, alcohol

⤷ summary: a casual drunk hookup between two young strangers became something ... more than sex.

a warm breeze blows a curl of hair from your forehead and you exhale, corners of your lips lifting into a small smile. it’s almost the end of august; the leaves on the trees are becoming orange and the warm summer winds are cooling down.

the end of an era, and the start of another.

you subconsciously turn your head and look beside you, almost wishing for someone to be there. he isn’t – the cushion of the porch swing is empty. the small smile slips off your lips and your brows furrow; you close your eyes as if the sight’s painful, turning back to watch the trees and sun.

you can’t help the tingling heat that begins to spread through your nose; the promise of tears yet to come.

your mind drifts back to the start of your summer – june 14.

the neighborhood nightclub music is loud, likely booming throughout the area and annoying the neighbors.

but the old neighbors don’t seem to matter as much as the glass of alcohol in your hands and the prickling heat in the back of your skull. there’s a lazy smile sitting upon your lips as you survey the club, taking sips of your drink every few seconds.

ah — there’s your friend, out twerking on the dance floor, getting cheered on by men who are whooping and waving their fists in the air. you cross your legs, the thought of shaking your ass in front of many men seeming unappealing to you.

“hey! can i get another, please?” a golden blonde stranger is suddenly beside you, left arm on the bar counter, a wide grin on his face as sweat runs down his temples.

the bartender sighs, slides him a filled cup, then goes back to cleaning the other glasses with a towel. the energetic looking guy plops down onto a stool beside you, nice white teeth catching the light.

“hey, why aren’t you out dancing?”

your lips flatten into a thin line as you turn to him, “don’t feel like it. it’s nice sitting over here and watching, though.”

“i guess.” he furrows his eyebrows in thought, lips scrunching a bit, “you come here alone?”

“nope.” you sigh, taking a bigger sip this time. “i had a friend come with me, we’d had a few drinks before she’d gone off to the dance floor.” you tiredly gesture towards the crowd, “so yeah. what about you, where’s your friends? you look like you should be over there partying rather than talking to me.”

“they’re all over the club.” he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “some of them didn’t come, others’re just.. around.”

“that makes sense.” another sip and you turn away from the blinding lights, “parties are fun for me, just not when i’m the center of attention.”

“i get that,” he chuckles, takes a sip of his own drink, “i know a guy exactly like that. 8:30 pm bedtime, 6:30 wake up.”

“are you serious? 8:30? i go to bed around 12.”

“yeah, i know right? he’s super strict on it too, we all make fun of him.”

“damn, that sounds fun.” you exhale before taking a bigger sip, the burn of the alcohol stinging a trail down your throat. “you have a name?”

he laughs at that, running a hand through his golden tufts, “denki kaminari, pleased to meet you, madam.” he jokingly places a kiss against your fingers and you let out a squeal of surprise, laughing as you pull your hands away from him.

“(y/n) (l/n), pleased to meet you too, denki kaminari.” you nod at him, drinking the last of your empty glass.

you both ask the bartender for more, and when you both stumble on your words in fear of interrupting each other, you decide to go against each other in a drinking challenge – five shot glasses filled with the second strongest liquor on the shelf.

you manage to down four glasses, determination the only thing keeping you going at this point; your cheeks are hot from the alcohol, brain fuzzy, surroundings beginning to blur every few seconds.

“y-you good?” denki doesn’t look all that good either. shit, he looks terrible – happy, but terrible nonetheless. five empty glasses are at his side and his golden eyes are focused on you.

“yeah, i’m fine.. round two?” you give him a challenging smile and he pouts, pushing out his lower lip as he asks the clearly tired bartender for more, once again.

you crack your knuckles and take a deep breath, picking up the first shot glass as you look at denki, nodding at the same time. you bring it to your lips and suck all the liquid down, almost feeling its burn in your spine when it goes down your throat.

another shot glass, then another – before you know it, you’re swaying on your feet like an idiot, brain spinning, muscles loose. you glance towards denki and you wonder why you’d let yourselves get so inebriated.

“damn, that was fun!” he’s slurring on his words and you bring a hand to your head, sighing.

“jesus christ, i need to sit down.” you both stagger towards a staircase, not caring about how idiotic you look while doing so.

you’re about to pop the dreaded question—how’re we getting home?—when he speaks instead, tilting his head back with a yawn-sigh.

“i’m horny.”

and that’s when you really notice something about him; his jawline is sharp and young, his lips pink and parted, his skin flushed from the drinks, his golden eyes piercing.

you find yourself saying something you’d never imagined would leave your lips, “i can help with that.”

“really? you?” he turns his head towards you and points to you almost accusingly.

you shrug, “i think it was the drinks, but yeah, me. don’t wanna pass up a good offer.”

he seems to think about it while you take a quick look at your phone. “11:48 pm – you stay horny or not, your choice.”

“okay.” denki does some jazz hands and you roll your eyes, “sure. i think there’s some upstairs rooms over here.” you both stand and turn, ascending up the stairs, deciding to walk into a decent looking room.

“so ...” you stand there awkwardly, surroundings spinning but you manage to look over to denki, who’s equally confused. “you said you were horny.”

“and you said you could fix that.” the both of you are standing there, looking at each other, not fully knowing what to do, so you decide to get the ball rolling.

walking over to him, you begin to plant kisses along his jaw and down his neck. he lets out a small whine when you pull away, but you’re feeling more confident when you look at him again.

“kiss me.”

you almost laugh at your confidence that night; you started off sitting alone with a cup of alcohol, not even planning to get drunk – where the fuck did that even come from?

a cooler breeze hits your skin this time, carrying the scent of nearby cooking. smells like some sort of pie, you guess, rubbing your hands over your thighs in remembrance of that drunken hookup. deciding to go inside, you slide off the porch swing, walking over to the back door, twisting the knob and heading inside.

the elevator comes surprisingly fast when you push the button; stepping in, you punch in the number five and wait as you’re lifted above all the other floors.

you take out your keys and step out of the elevator when it dings, walking down the hall to your door, inserting the keys and walking inside.

it’s cold, as expected.

sighing, you toss your keys onto the counter and open the cabinets, rooting around for some food. you come out with a packaged ramen cup; you open it and fill it up with water, then pop it into the microwave.

you lean against the stove as you wait; two minutes and the microwave beeps, you take out your hot food and grab a spoon, walking over to the kitchen table, switching on a light.

you eat alone, in silence.

“oh shit!” you practically throw yourself out of the twin-sized bed; your bare ass is on the cold floor and you’re frantically gathering as much of the sheet as possible, pulling it against your naked chest.

from the other side of the mattress, there’s a girlish scream and a head of golden blonde hair pops up, amber eyes wide with surprise and panic.

“who are you?” your hand comes up to your forehead to ease the pounding in the back of your head. “wait.” something clicks and some tension leaves your shoulders as you point at him, “aren’t you that kid from last night?”

“i’m 21, thank you very much.” he scoffs in disbelief, “how do you not remember me? you were literally moaning my—”

“okay!” you cut him off quickly, cheeks warming up in embarrassment as your brows furrow, “i ... drank too much.”

“same here.” he stands up, unintentionally putting himself on display, “where are we? i can’t remember going—”

“denki!” you practically scream, shielding your eyes, “please put some damn pants on!”

“sorry.” you hear some movement and rustling before the sound of a zipper, “there. what about you? you’re naked too.”

“i know, give me a minute...” you look around and locate your underwear and jeans. you slip them on, clasping your bra and throwing on your shirt.

you stand up, face to face with denki; his neck is spotted with love bites, his hair tousled, cheeks a light pink. “we.. should probably get going.” you grab your dying phone and check the time, “oh my god, it’s 10:15, i’m late for work.”

“you work on saturdays?” your relax at the question, exhaling in relief.

“no, not on saturdays. i thought it was friday or something.” you laugh but a stab of pain shoots from your head all the way through your body.

“how much did we drink last night?” you turn to the golden blonde, who sighs as he opens the door.

“i have no idea, i was gonna ask you. but we drank something strong.”

“i’m surprised we didn’t puke.” you both walk down the staircase, surprised to find that the club’s empty; pretty sunrays peek through the windows and dust floats in the air around you.

“well, i didn’t, but you did.” denki’s hand is at the back of his neck and he turns away from you in embarrassment, shuddering.

you cringe at what he’s insinuating, closing your eyes for a brief second. “um.. i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine,” he feels kind of weird asking, “where are you going?”

“well, i was planning on heading to my apartment, which you don’t typically do with a one-night stand, but i guess i can make an exception for you.”

“i’m getting special treatment? i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes as you open the door, squinting when the sun hits your face, “it’s the least i can do in exchange for the fun last night.”

denki bursts out into laughter, wiping faux tears from his eyes while you stand there, watching him. when his laughs finally slow down and he’s standing upright again, you elbow him in the ribs.

“looks like we’re gonna be walking a few blocks. we’d better hurry before it gets hot.”

“you don’t have a car?”

a glare from you is enough of an answer for him.

you throw the empty cup into the garbage, the spoon into the sink. you walk into your bedroom and water your plants on the windowsill, wishing that night would come fast.

it’s only 6:52 pm, and the sun sets at 7:30. before, time never felt so slow – probably because you had someone to spend it with. 

your lips pull into a frown and you place the green watering can back on the windowsill, huffing out a sigh. when had you gotten so damn lonely?

the second week of knowing denki and you’re holding onto his hand tightly as you walk through the dark field, ignoring his protests of ‘it’s dark!’ and ‘what if there’s wolves out here?!’

“calm down already! look, we’re almost there!” you point ahead and he shrieks.

“but there’s no light! seriously, we’re gonna get eaten by wolves or maybe even hawks!”

“jesus christ, denki. there’s no wolves out here, and hawks can’t grab us.” you aren’t fully sure about the wolves, but it’s just a white lie.. that he doesn’t need to know.

“are you sure?”

you stop, turning to him, looking him directly in the eyes. “come on, have some faith in me.”

denki slowly nods, visibly relaxing. you keep walking; it’s silent for the next few minutes, and eventually you finally come to a stop in an area where you can perfectly see the moon.

“why’d we stop?”

he stands before you, watching curiously as you grab a branch and wink at him.

“just watch.”

slowly, you sweep the branch over the grass, and fireflies rise in the air around you. a faint buzz fills the air as they float around you both; you sit down beside him.

denki’s eyes are half-wide in appreciation, lips parted. he turns his head to you, voice much calmer than it was earlier. “it looks.. magical.”

he was right, it did look quite magical that night. you check the time on your phone, 7:05 pm – just a little longer, you can make it.

placing the phone on your chest, you sigh as you close your eyes, letting your mind wander again.

“uhh, i don’t know about this...” this time you’re the one who’s hesitant to do something with him, worry consuming your mind as you sit on the side wall of the apartment.

“come on, you can do it! just glide.” denki excitedly holds a hand out to you and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth in worry, but you reluctantly nod and grab it.

his hand’s warm and soft when he pulls you up onto your feet, flashing you his all too familiar grin. “you’ll be fine, i’ve got you.”

your skin warms at his words and you decide that rollerskating with him is worth the effort. “okay.. so you just go forwards and gently push off each time?”

“pretty much, look.” he demonstrates proudly, you give him some applause before copying his exact movements, and surprisingly, you don’t fall.

“there you go! okay, come on, i wanna show you somewhere cool i found earlier!” he grabs your hand and skates forward so quickly you panic, unable to do anything else but glide with him.

“oh my god, don’t go so fast! you’re gonna run into a streetpole!”

“no, i won’t, i’ll be fine! come on, i think you’ll like the boba place i found!”

you open your eyes, checking your phone again – 7:32, just in time for the sunset. you get off your bed and start to walk out of your room, but a red gleam catches your eye – you turn to see the red rollerskates you wore with denki.

ignoring the pang in your heart, you grab a jacket and head out of your apartment, locking the door behind you before heading into the elevator.

you’re heading to the highest floor; up there, you’ll be able to get to the roof.

after punching in number eight, you lean against the wall, looking at your hands. a ding alerts you that you’ve arrived; you step out of the elevator and open the door at the end of the hall, walking up the small metal staircase – finally, you’re here.

you don’t make any moves to sit; that’s something new. instead, you stand on the roof, hands in your pockets as you watch the swirling plethora of colors dissolve into darkness in front of you.

“how long have you been living here?” denki shakes his head, droplets of water hitting your skin and you release a small laugh, stepping away from him.

“about four years or so.. it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“yeah, it is. it’s.. always awake, you know?”

“oh yeah,” you chuckle, understanding what he means about the city, “always. there’re cars going at 3 in the morning all the time. so many places are open to eat, it’s nice they cater to people’s late night cravings.”

“true.” he looks up at the leafy branches in thought, “i like citylife. it’s kinda boring if everything’s slow paced and sleepy.”

the rippling lake water catches the sunlight, glittering in the late afternoon sun. the field’s light green and grassy, all flat except for the few lone apple trees that dot its surface.

“sometimes you have to step away from the city to really enjoy nature.” you stand up and grab a red apple off a lower branch, taking a bite and offering it to him.

“they’re sweet, y’know.”

denki gives a huff, “i know what apples taste like.” he bites into the fruit, humming at its taste. he hands it back to you and you take another bite, savoring the fresh, crisp taste.

you sit down beside him, tilting your head back to look up at the different branches above you. your hair’s still damp from the swimming, your skin dewy with droplets of water.

“should we go back in?” you question, looking out towards the lake.

“only if we’re skinny dipping.”

“it’s.. light out. you’re supposed to go in the dark.”

“so?” denki grabs your hand and brings you up, “come on, it’ll be fun!”

you lay back with a sigh, arms crossed behind your head as you stare up at the cloudy night sky, unable to see any constellations due to the clouds and city light.

the moon peeks out from behind the clouds, almost shy to reveal its full light.

a rush of sadness fills your chest and you move your feet, not wanting to remember the particularly painful memory made right here.

“you’ve been silent all night, denki. what’s up with you?” his hand finds yours and gives it a squeeze.

“i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for not telling you something i should’ve told you sooner.. i’m heading back to japan tomorrow.”

you don’t respond but your heartbeat quickens as you look up at the sky. “why are you going to japan, denki?”

“because.. i live there. i come here every summer from the beginning of june to the end of july with some friends.”

“so you won’t be able to...” your voice fades in realization.

“we can call and text! we both have phones, right?” he’s trying to be cheery.

“it’s not the same,” you say, voice suddenly strained, “you’re.. what, sixteen hours ahead of me? it wouldn’t work, it’d be inconvenient for both of us.”

“here, i have an idea. give me your phone.” he hands you his, which is open to the ‘create a new contact’ page; you do the same, now sitting up.

you type in your phone number and a small note, then hand it back to him.

denki seems quite invested in his typing; it takes him a few good minutes before he’s finished. “don’t open the note ‘til i’m gone, okay?”

it seems you’d never opened it. why not? you take out your phone to open it, reliving your last memory.

“call me, okay?” denki’s grinning again, giving you a tight hug before getting on the plane. you’re wondering why he’s so happy – it’s a facade, of course. smiling always fends off the tears, right?

when he’s about to pull away, he realizes how you’re not letting go, head buried in his neck. “denki, be safe. don’t forget anything on the plane, okay?” your voice is light and you’re trying to joke with him, but he can sense that unsteadiness.

he hugs you tighter, tears forming in his eyes. “i love you.”

a weak sob escapes your lips and the tears start rushing out of your eyes. “i love you too, please be careful.”

you hadn’t spoken to him since that morning – three weeks ago. why hadn’t you stayed in touch?

the note opens and you immediately read it, tears welling up in your eyes.

‘to y/n, the most amazing girl i’ve ever met.. i’ve enjoyed it all, from the most awkward morning of my life to the first time i’ve ever gone up on a roof with someone. it’s been really fun, i’m going to miss this. i get it if you don’t wanna stay in touch; it’s too painful sometimes, you know? but aside from our adventures, i’ve really enjoyed bonding with you as a person. you’re funny, sarcastic, and all around amazing. i love you - see you next summer.’

he was right in his message; it is too painful to stay in touch sometimes. you exit the contacts list, wiping at your eyes and smearing your makeup as you open the messaging app, beginning to type out a message,

hey, i miss you.

taglist // @sobaluvr​ @bbytamaki​ 

[thistlecatfics]

Sirius-centric darkfic recs

Dead Dove Don’t Eat (it’s what it says on the tin!)

I’m just a tad tired of all the fluffy Sirius-centric fics rec’d right now when he is such a complicated and morally grey ish character to me! So, here is my abridged Sirius-centric darkfic rec list. 

Fics under the cut include incest, non-con, dub-con & generally people acting poorly towards people they claim to love. It’s super valid if those fics aren’t for you! Just don’t click “read more” if that’s the case. 

Let Slip the Dogs of War, itallstartedwithdefenestration (54k, Sirius/Remus)

“Remus can't seem to escape certain parts of his life. The worst is being a werewolf. The second worst is Sirius Black.”

A Sirius-is-sorted-into-Slytherin and he and Remus have a deeply unhealthy relationship and it’s EXCELLENT. The least dark of the fics on this list, but truly something wonderful.

7 Loves/7 Lives (I called you brother seven times), xylodemon (7k, Sirius/Regulus)

“This is a thing that never should have started.”

This was one of my all-time favorite fics from wayyyy back in the day when I read it on LJ (as, um, a 14 year old whoops sorry), and it holds up. Angsty angsty angst. Feels like a bruise. 

Visions and Revisions, seejaywrites (12k, Sirius/Harry set during OotP)

“"I could be James," he says, but he cannot be, because James is dead. Though if you live too much in years gone by, the lines between the past and present - as viewed through an empty brandy glass - may soften and pool like melting wax.” 

This is so hot and dark and awful and heartbreaking and perfect. 

The Source of the Poison, Bitterfic (livejournal), (2k, Sirius/Remus and past Sirius/Regulus)

“If you really believe he’s a Death Eater, why are you still fucking him?” Lily whispered to him when James was tending to the baby.  James had a sentimental view of his friends, but Lily knew how things were, and with death looming over her, she didn’t mince words.  Sirius hadn’t been able to answer her.”

Brief and haunting. 

5 fragments of an obsidian heart, Bitterfic (livejournal) (8k ish, Regulus-centric with Regulus/Sirius, Regulus/James, Regulus/Barty, Regulus/Bellatrix, Regulus/Snape)

"It is bitter--bitter," he answered; "But I like it Because it is bitter, And because it is my heart."

-Stephen Crane

Like jesus fucking christ. I must have read this fic so many times back in the day. It’s still my favorite Regulus. 

[cxnnamonmom-blog]

"it's just a dream." {{ if you'd like! }}

meme // ACCEPTING 

    Sans reassurances are appreciated, so so greatly appreciated but .. Despite it all, the monster looked close to breaking into another sobbing fit like the one she had woken up in. The memory of dust falling into her hands and then slipping out of them is clear and vivid - memories of anguished cries to a body that was simply fading in front of her own eyes before she was left with nothing more than her other child laid before her in a permanent state of slumber. 

Her hands are trembling more than she would like them to as she suddenly engulfs the other in a tight embrace, hands tightening and clinging onto the fabric of his clothing as she rests her head on his, careful not to suffocate him, if that was even possible. 

“ I know .. “ She murmurs after a moment, eyes half lidded. She doesn’t want to close them to be greeted with those faces again. There’s a long pause from the monster as she evens out her breathing, grip loosening as murmured apologies leave her lips - she shouldn’t be squeezing him so tight and she shouldn’t be reacting like this now after so long .. Should she ?? 

“ I just .. Can’t get their faces out of my head .. “ She murmurs after another moment, a heavy and shaky sounding sigh escaping her. “ I .. I am sorry, Sans .. I shouldn’t have .. I didn’t mean to wake you .. “ She feels foolish for not even being able to get a proper apology to him out of her mouth but .. The poor monster still feels shaken up. What more can she do than remind herself that it was, in fact, just a dream ? 

That she in fact wasn’t in that damned room like she was that night ? That they were on the surface now && that .. What happened those days were supposed to be behind her ?

[multiplefandomsblog]

“6 years old until now.”

request; Helloooo! I have noticed that your requests are open so if it isn’t too much to ask could I please request gundham x reader where they are kids and are like play dating and have a fake wedding and after that have a time skip for when they are adults and actually have a wedding?

warnings; kisses, gn!reader, reader has neutral pronouns and everything, reader takes gundham’s last name, fluffffffffffffy, and maybe angst?? kinda, not really, ARGHHHG THE TITLE IS BADDDD BUT I COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE HEUGRHRGAHGF 

word count; 1.6k words holy crap

“Gundham! Hey, c’mere I have something for you!” You beckoned Gundham toward you, hiding a ring pop behind your back. “Fuahaha! What did you need from the prince of darkness?!” Gundham deepened his voice dramatically, zooming over to you with a flamboyant smile on his face and birds standing on his shoulders. “Gundham those birds look so cool!” You beamed, carefully walking up to him, as to not scare them. “I know right!? A pack of animals were following me today!” He stepped to the side, revealing the line of rabbits and squirrels behind him.

Your jaw dropped, “Gundham could be the ultimate animal talker-to!” Gundham guffawed cockily, “Fuahaha indeed! Anyway, what did you wanna give me?” Gundham said curiously, cocking his head to peak behind your back. You nervously fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Well, I got this for Halloween but I wanted to give it to you instead. Um, so we could get married!” Your nervousness left as quick as it came, smiling brightly as you presented him the candy ring. “Gundham Tanaka,” You got on one knee dramatically, “Will you marry me?” 

Gundham’s eyes widened before glossing over with tears, “S-s/o…” He wailed, moving his hands up to wipe his tears. “G-gundham, don’t cry! I’m sorry, you don’t have to marry me!” You panicked, moving closer to hug him tightly. “I-I’m not crying! The prince of darkness doesn’t cry!” He denied, taking the candy from your hand around his waist. “I-I accept.” He sniffled, feeling incredibly happy you proposed to him even though you two were too young to get a marriage license. 

“R-really!?” You beamed, pulling away to see his red tear-stained face. He nodded eagerly, opening the ring pop package and slipping it on his ring finger with a wobbly smile. You brightened up with an idea, tapping Gundham’s shoulder frantically, “I have an idea!” Gundham looked at you with confusion, “What?” Your smile wide, “Your animals can marry us!” You pointed at the crowd of small animals behind him, looking at them with excitement. 

“S/o, that’s a brilliant idea!” He cheered, holding your hand and dragging you in front of the animals. One of the cats had sat in the middle of you two, looking up at you expectantly. “Oh, uh, I think it goes… Do you, Gundham Tanaka, take me to be my- Er, your loving spouse?” You stumbled, unsure if that’s actually how it went. Gundham stared into your eyes with a blinding smile, “I do!” Gundham examined the ring on his finger happily, “Do you, S/o L/n, take me to be your loving spouse?” 

He crossed his hand over his chest, “I do, I do!” You giggled, leaning in quickly to kiss him on the cheek. The cat rolled its eyes at your eagerness, leaving the two of you be. Gundham flushed at your sudden peck, covering his face with his hand to hide his red face, “S/ooooooo..!”

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

Well then, today was the day. 

You nervously looked around the room, your breathing shallow from the many eyes on you. You gulped down your anxiousness, focusing your attention back on your beloved. As you looked over his dazzling figure, Gundham scanned yours, face flushing at how beautiful you looked. You winked at him, mouthing a, “You look so hot.” at him and giggling as you saw his already flushed face becoming redder with each second. 

The priest cleared his throat, eyes gazing over the words of his book before starting,"Gundham and S/o, today you are surrounded by your friends and family, all of whom have gathered here to witness your marriage and to share in the joy of this special occasion.” You scanned the room for your friends, smiling as they gave you a thumbs up and a tear-filled grin. 

“Today, as you join yourselves in marriage, there is a vast and unknown future stretching out before you.” You looked back at Gundham, seeing your whole future with no one but him. You knew, and had no doubt, that you wanted to spend the rest of your future with him. 

“The possibilities and potentials of your married life are great; and now falls upon your shoulders, the task of choosing your values and making real your dreams.” Gundham thought of all those old memories with you, reminiscing in them. Though he misses the old memories, he’s already incredibly excited for the new ones he will make with you. The potential and possibilities as the priest said.

“Through your commitment to each other, may you grow and nurture a love that makes both of you better people. A love that continues to give you great joy, and also a passion for living that provides you with energy and patience to face the responsibilities of life.” You looked deep into Gundham’s eyes, reaching out to hold both his hands. When you look at him, you are reminded of your childhood. Your entire life, he has experienced with you. This man had stuck with you thick and thin, and how lucky you are; You get to be married to him.  

"May you always need one another; not to fill an emptiness, but to help each other know your fullness.” As the priest spoke his readings, all Gundham could think of was you. It was like he had described you to him perfectly; You had always made his heart feel full and loved, and he hopes he did the same for you too. “May you succeed in all important ways with each other, and not fail in the little graces. May you have happiness, and may you find it in making one another happy. May you have love, and always find love, in the pursuit of loving one another." 

A few tears trickled down your face, Gundham’s eyes glossing over as well. “Gundham,” You stopped, choking out a sob. Gundham chuckled at your inability to speak, tears falling from the feeling of how much he loved you, even when you were crying. “To me, you are still the same little boy that I had proposed to—what felt like—millions of years ago.” You reached up to gingerly brush his tears away with your thumbs, your heart swelling as he leaned into your touch.

“As you stand here in front of me, with those same tears staining your beautiful face, it makes me realize that I had wanted to marry you ever since I was 6 years old. 6!” Gundham laughed at your exclamation, “I already knew I was going to marry you, because I did and still truly believe that you are my soulmate.” You ended, face and nose red from the overwhelming feelings you had. 

The priest looked over to Gundham with an encouraging smile, “S/o, when you proposed to me with that... dreaded candy ring, I remember being extremely happy from it. Even though it was nothing but candy, it had meant so much to me because it symbolized so much.” You grinned nostalgically at the memory of the ring pop, squeezing his hands. 

“You are, the perfect ruler for me. I love you so much, i can’t begin to even put it in words. I owe everything to you, for you have done so much to make me happy. You’ve always stayed with me no matter what, from 6 years old until now, and I am forever grateful for that. I love you so, so much S/o.” His voice cracked at the end from the emotion hitting him. 

You pouted, lips trembling from his heart-felt vows, you just wanted to kiss him already damn it. Letting out a shaky breath, you looked at the priest expectantly. The priest took a breath, "Now then, what you’ve all been waiting for,” A few laughs echoed in the large banquet, some cheers scattered in the crowd.

“Do you S/o L/n, accept Gundham Tanaka as your lifemate and one true love, promising to share in all that life offers and suffers, to be there for him in times of plenty, as well as times of need, to soothe him in times of pain, and to support him in all endeavours, big and small, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest faced you, “I do.” You said without any trace of uncertainty, you have never been so sure of something in your life. 

You took Gundham’s ring from the pillow presented to you, grabbing his hand gently as you slipped his ring on, smiling up at him. He was glad to see a ring on his finger that wasn’t made of candy, but he would’ve gotten married to you with anything

"Now, do you Gundham Tanaka, accept S/o L/n as your lifemate and one true love, promising to share in all that life offers and suffers, to be there for them in times of plenty, as well as times of need, to soothe (him/her) in times of pain, and to support them in all endeavours, big and small, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest faced Gundham, “I do.” Without missing a beat, Gundham responded with no hesitance, grabbing your ring of the pillow and slipping it onto your ring finger carefully, bringing up your hand and kissing it. 

With trembling lips, your lips curved up into an uncontrollable smile whilst you looked at how pretty the ring looked on your finger. Gundham eyed your pretty lips as an excited smile of his own found itself on his face as he waited for the priest’s next words. 

"Family and Friends,", the priest clapped his hands together, "I present to you, for the first-er Second time, Gundham and S/o Tanaka!” Everybody laughed and cheered at the priest’s slip up, whooping the two of you as Gundham cupped your face and brought you into a gentle, emotional kiss. You laughed and cried into the kiss, eagerly kissing him back with as much emotion he gave you. 

note; oh god its almost 6am- um, i hope you all enjoyed this long ass fic because dear lord, it took so long to finish qwq well anyhow, i hope its to your liking!