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kihyunsflavor · 5 months

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Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd-rautha x reader #kihyunsflavor

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calcifiedunderland · 1 year

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Shrimply Yours~

In which you invoke your shrimp privileges to cheer Floyd up.

Floyd x GN Reader! Enjoy, shrimpies!!~

—————

“Y’know Floyd, I’d say you’re the shrimp, not me.”

Maybe you really did have a death-by-squeezing wish. Or maybe your plot-armor protection had finally worn off. The eel in question lifted his head slowly at your words and side-eyed you, his golden eye glinting ominously in the Mostro Lounge kitchen’s light.

You’d been washing the dishes after asking Azul for a job in exchange for a little extra madol on the side. For the most part, your day had been as peaceful as it could’ve (the life of a magicless prefect was always maniacal), until you heard arguing from outside the kitchen. You all but jumped when Floyd slammed the door open and wordlessly stalked to the stove, and you spotted Azul walking off shaking his head to himself. Floyd shoved pan on the heat and began frying something, completely ignoring your presence. Was it even possible to fry chicken so aggressively?

In any case, Floyd seemed a little more volatile than usual at the moment, even considering it was him. The other students who’d been in the kitchen with you before had scuttled out before Floyd could snap at them too. But in any case, you knew that Floyd’s mood flipped faster than Crowley leaving all his work to you. So, you thought you’d try to lighten the mood.

At your words, Floyd slowly brought his head up from his deep-frying, golden-and-olive colored eyes zeroing in on you, baring his sharp, shiny teeth at you in a scowl. And in that split second, you suddenly remembered that Floyd was, in fact, a mer-eel. Moray, specifically. A predator. A predator that probably ate shrimpies like you. Who was now looking at you predatorily.

“What did ya just say, shrimpy?” His pupils were practically pin-pricks, and for a moment you swore you could hear the Jaws theme song in your head. You could remember, time and time again, your friends and upperclassmen telling you not to engage Floyd when he was in one of his moods. Even up until now, you’d never been on the awful end of his anger, especially alone. But you weren’t called beast-tamer for nothing, damn it, and maybe that title could extend to taming angry Floyd’s too. An angry Floyd that was still your friend.

“I said, you’re the shrimp, not me.” You maintained eye-contact with him, almost challenging him, ‘come at me, bro.’ You tried to keep a straight face, although you were deflating rapidly by the second because by Sevens this was so stupid but-

“Because you’re shrimply amazing.”

One second passed. Two. Three.

Then Floyd broke into a wide, sharp-toothed grin. He surged towards you, completely forgetting the frying food. “D’awww, SHRIMPY!!!”

He swooped behind you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. Your legs flailed around and now your arms were locked in as Floyd spun around the kitchen haphazardly with you in his arms. “Shrimpy knows just how to cheer me up! I knew this is why I kept you around!” He laughed cheerily, bobbing you up and down.

“FLOYD!” You cried, “PUT ME DOWN-“ the kitchen swirled crazily around you, as Floyd babbled some song or other cheerfully. Thankfully he’d stopped spinning, but began shaking you side to side while humming, “Shrimpy’s so brave n’ nice, all the other guppies left when they saw me but only Shrimpy stayed!”

He started pouting, and squished his cheek into yours. “Azul was bein’ mean to me, making me work now. Just ‘cause I roughed up a few customers doesn’t mean it was my fault! They shoulda been nice to me~”

Even though you were basically suspended in the air by him, you smiled at Floyd’s words. “Glad I could help Floyd, that was so mean of Azul,” you consoled him, hoping he’d put you down. He bent over until your feet were safely on the sweet, sweet ground, but didn’t let you go from his arms. The two of you swayed together, basking in each other’s company in the subpar lighting of the kitchen, until you frowned.

“…Hey, is something burning?”

“Ah shit, I burned the chicken.”

———

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst yuu #floyd leech #twst floyd #twst floyd leech #twst floyd x reader #floyd leech x yuu #floyd leech x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #mostro lounge #calcified writing

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peachedtvs · 7 months

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TIL' DEATH DON’T WE PART ft. Yandere!Alastor

⃝𖤐 VALENTINES DAY 2024 SPECIAL…

⃝𖤐 SUMMARY: After fleeing from your fiancé, it isn’t long before the two of you reunite, against your will or with it—on Earth or not.

⃝𖤐 CONTENT WARNINGS: afab, fem!reader, yandere!ex-fiancé!alastor x reader, alastor being a serial killer, moderate description of gore, NONCON/DUBCON, fingering, oral (fem receiving), big dick alastor—not great prep, p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking kink, fear play, predator/prey dynamics, size kink, alastor uses his shadows,

⃝𖤐 WORD COUNT: 3.9k | 2k plot, 1.9k smut

⃝𖤐 STREAM NOTE: SMUT BELOW THE SECOND NSFW BANNER !😋i am IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN GUYS

⃝𖤐 MASTERLIST. Main blog @peachedtv

Alastor felt you were quite silly, even from when the two of you were small.

So silly, in so many ways.

You were silly in the way you spoke. Expressive, lively, words filled with kindness and rhythm. Words Alastor wanted to lock away for only him to hear. Your voice always melted into his mind like honey. Soothing, calming, just like the radio he’d hum to silently during his auditory carnages. Screams of pain, terror, and torment vastly contrasting a smooth swing of jazz muffled through a radio’s buzz.

Your smile was silly too. Loud, boisterous laughs pairing with it each time as you’d close your eyes tightly, breaths jagged as you’d brace your stomach from the joy. Your smile so mesmerizing Alastor wanted nothing more to lock it away behind a key. To melt away in the melody of your laughter, to spread it across his lips and adorn the smile as sweetly as you do.

He’s adapted that wish somewhat.

What was even sillier was how silly you made him feel. On the surface, the twist in his stomach was sweet. An admiration, an appreciation of something so pure. Although,

Alastor always fell apart.

Even in the room of his own heart.

Every silly thing had something inside of him twist. A strange twist, a bubbling feeling that had his gut wrench around itself—curling around and laying discomfort deep into his heart, where it stood mockingly. Unable to be buried beneath other thoughts, placed behind distractions, or replaced with another. And this bothered him.

Alastor was always in control.

Control of his subordinates, control of his manipulation, his chaos around him. So why couldn’t he control this?

What were you doing to him?

He thought it was uncomfortable at first. But that strange feeling was quite addicting, stacking tenfolds in intensity ever since the first time he felt it with you.

“Are you okay?”

By now, this memory had occurred over a century ago, on the Earth he no longer lived in.

The first day you two had met, Alastor was a clumsy boy. His two feet carrying him slower than the beat of his heart, tumbling him down onto his knee into the unforgiving concrete. It hurt. A sting and burn that tugged the corner of his lips into a frown, holding back tears as other children ran past him without any acknowledgement.

He never wanted mother to worry, and so, he always sucked it up. Tugging his knee into his chest, he blew onto the wound and hugged his leg—his lips wobbling.

And suddenly, there you were.

A small, petite child then. Clumsy and expressive as you stared down to him with empathy, your hand extended to him as the other rested on your knee. Alastor was surprised. Enough so that for a split second, he had forgotten of his wounds, of the pain. Cautiously, he took your hand.

Your hand felt right in his.

Soft, smooth, and warm against his cold skin. Soon, your fingers were almost always intertwined with his. Alastor’s mother would coo at the two of you each time Alastor brought you over to dance, smiling happily as you stumbled over his feet in the living room—his favorite radio buzzing soft melodies in the background. Alastor moved gracefully, having danced with his mother in preparation. You were not the same. You couldn’t help but have your eyes stuck on the floor, eyebrows raised in concentration as you followed his steps.

One step,

two step,

three step,

four.

You weren’t a great dancer. And after a long afternoon of clumsily tapping your feet around, the sun began to retract past the skyline, and Alastor had offered to walk you home. It was bright, really bright. Your eyebrows furrowing at the light from Earth’s warming star, a small hand raised to your forehead to soothe your eyes from the bright light.

“Al, look!” You pointed to the sun. Orange hues trailing red as the two colors bleed together, warm tones mesmerizing your childish heart and sparking wonder into your eyes.

Meanwhile, Alastor was looking at a different star. His star.

“I want to make a deal.” Alastor spoke softly. And slowly, you turned to him, curiousity tilting your head as you met Alastor’s timid expression with a hum of acknowledgment. Alastor raised his pinky finger.

“I want to be with you forever.” Alastor tucked away into his body. For the first time, his eyes looked away from you—the warmth from the sky traveling down to blush his cheeks, a pale red hue over his soft features. To his surprise, your pinky hooked onto his in an instant.

“Forever.”

And there was Alastor’s first deal of souls. A deal that tied your essence to his until the end of time—for a promise between two whom are pure surpasses the strength of any other.

And forever meant forever.

Years together flew by, and Alastor became your fiancé, set to tie your love together by law in a couple months. You both had your own jobs, despite his insistence for you to stay at home and allow him to care for you. Although, you wanted to work. You wanted to experience the world. But what you didn’t want were the unreasonable hours of overtime your boss had subjected to you. Much to Alastor’s dismay, many late afternoons he would return to an empty home. Full of furniture, light, decoration, but never with the person he truly wished the presence of. Every evening, you would trail home hours after him. Enervated, dragging your feet along the floorboards as you slumped into his open arms.

“I missed you, Cher.”

Your voice was like honey.

“I missed you more, my Dear.” Alastor greeted you softly. There it was again. Something twisted. Alastor looked down to your visage. Dark eyebags staining your soft skin, a pout dragging your lips, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sighed from exhaustion. His gut was twisting stranger than usual. A mix of annoyance for those who have exploited you, an annoyance that made his stomach curl inside.

Alastor did not want you to continue working.

Your boss had gone missing for a couple days now.

The company was in disarry, having strangely lost empolyee after empolyee ever since you were recruited. The once bustling, lively atmosphere became quiet, dull, and empty. And with the new loss of your empolyer, there wasn’t an office cubicle you could return to. For the first time in months, you returned home before Alastor.

Although, something felt off.

With Alastor home, it was always lively. The ambience of radio would hum an electronic swing of jazz, a low vibrato of your home’s ventilation system, and the comfort of your fiancé’s presence. He was such a soothing soul. Without him, the home felt strange. You felt presences of another, many, an overbearing amount. As though invisible strings clumped together to weigh you heavier into the floor boards, creacking the dark oak louder than usual.

Without Alastor, it felt as though something was calling for you—and curiously, you began to explore. Exploring as the home you resided in, as this home empty of your lover didn’t feel like a home anymore. And that lead you to the door that stood at the far end of the first floor. Tucked beside the laundry room, you stood still and seemed confused.

Was there always a lock?

A sturdy lock it was. Heavy metal weighing it flush against the wood, holding the door firmly shut to keep everything in out. There was a strange smell, too. A scent that leaked from beneath the dark oak doorway, filling the air with a musk of cooper and spoiled eggs. Your hand reached for the lock, flinching when built up static pricked your skin. A warning. But you held firm. Giving a cautious, downward tug as the lock went slack. It was open. You pushed the door back slowly, a low creak humming your presence, a flood of a strange meat stinging the view in your eyes.

Firmly, a familiar hand held your shoulder.

The hand of your fiancé.

You were terrified.

“Dear, what are you doing?”

You couldn’t think.

Not with the view of mangled flesh, the smell of copper and iron so strong your head began to haze strangely. No, you couldn’t think. Even moreso with scattered limbs decorating the floor—being the remainder of the morbidly intact heads of your former colleges and empolyer, of your missing boss. Pieces of them did not fit like a puzzle. Limbs, skin, so much of their bodies were missing.

What was that dinner Alastor served these passing evenings?

And it seemed as though fate enjoyed sparking your memory.

This time around, nearly a century later, it was not scatttered corpses, blood, or flies that greeted you. You stood before the door of a new, Hazbin Hotel. Advertised as a place for refemption, a gateway of return to Heaven—the place you swore you should have ended up in. And yet, nostaglia always played its role.

Just as a century ago, nails dug into your shoulder, holding you in place. A voice staticy, strange, and terrifyingly familisr beneath it’s vintaged filter. The grip dug into your flesh this time, keeping you from running—just as you did in 1933. With a door you shouldn’t have opened, and a hand on your shoulder that felt larger than usual.

Your fiancé’s hand.

“I missed you, my Dear.”

You didn't know what was happening.

You scrambled fruitlessly, trying to shove Alastor's hand off your shoulder when sharp, black tendrils gripped your wrists in an instant. By the next, it seemed you were melting into the floor, the world around you sputtering and glitching as your vision faded out and back in as you fell back onto a large bed.

You couldn't recognize the monster that was before you.

You didn't want to recognize the monster that was before you. Although, a sharp, large hand gripped the lower half of your face, covering your mouth and pinning you down into the plush duvet to muffle horrified screams, forcing you to look deep into a being empty of a soul.

Even back then, you always felt Alastor’s deep eyes lacked light. They seemed dull, strange, and detached from any wonder or interest. All until his gaze would flit upon you. A spark of light dashing his iris, a soft smile spreading his lips. He only looked human when he looked at you.

Alastor still kept that smile. A smile that had morphed after his descent into Hell. Sharp teeth, discolored skin, bloodshot eyes that contrasted against dark red sclera. He looked terrifying. His body was misshapen, large, his face framed with blood-colored hair and root-like antlers protruding from his head. His size dwarfed you, a wolf to rabbit. Predator to prey.

“Al—“

"You recall the time when you'd say it back, don't you, my Dear?" He leaned down by your neck, breathing in shakily as though he couldn't believe you were finally here. With him. All to himself. "When you would say you missed me too." His voice was disfigured. A static like radio and dark undertone to his speech making your head spin and eyes well with tears. Your entire body was trembling, the skin on your back burning as every nerve in your brain set off sirens that resonated throughout your head. You felt too fearful to even choke out a pathetic sob, wanting to blend into the sheets below you.

Meanwhile, Alastor felt himself going crazy. He couldn't help the way his mind ran a mile a minute as he stared down at your dicheviled form. You were always so pretty, absurdly so. Even as the strands of your hair fell misplaced over your face, even as you looked up to him with so much fear, hatred, and terror, his stomach twisted just as it did nearly a century ago. That strange feeling laying addiction down into the lining of his stomach, soothing his body that felt run dry of how you made him feel.

He needed you. Now.

Alastor brought a hand to his lips, hastily removing his right glove as he bit the fabric covering the tip of his middle finger, tugging his glove off by his teeth. His free hand pinned you pliantly down into the mattress by the lower half of your face, the other sliding beneath your shirt to tear the fabric off your body. You thrashed, muffled sobs and tears running down your cheeks, wetting the palm of his hand.

Your terror only fueled him further.

His hands groped and fondled every inch of your skin that one could imagine, a long tongue pairing with his touch as Alastor licked a long stripe up your neck—sucking deep blotches and bruises of dark blue and purple hues across your neck and chest. Alastor marked you as his, bit your flesh like a meal, and ruined your soft skin for his pleasure.

The mattress beneath you was in shambles. Inch deep tears lay by your head as Alastor held back the urge to squeeze you blue, from ripping into your flesh, the torn mattress a goreish display of holding back the brutal cuteness aggression Alastor got from the sight of you.

His hand slid from your mouth, gripping your neck tightly to restrict precious air from flooding your throat. He wanted you ditzy anyway. Nothing but a lifeless shell of who you were once he was done.

Pilant.

Obidient.

And what better way than halfway choking you out?

Your hands held his wrist desparately, nails scratching into his skin as he only smiled wider in response, stitches appearing on the corners of his mouth to prevent his face from ripping in two from his pure display of euphoria.

You hadn't stopped crying this entire time. Desparate pleas falling on deaf ears as you begged Alastor that this was enough, that you'd listen, that you'd stay. And as convincing as it seemed, Alastor was not giving you another chance to escape him. Not again.

His hand trailed down until it cupped your clothed cunt. Nothing on your body remaining besides your panties. A gift, perhaps—the best for last. Alastor pushed your panties to the side, experimentally swirling the pad of his thumb onto your clit, causing you to wretch out a struggled moan.

"A-Alastor—!" He only smiled in response.

"Quite sensitive, hmm? It seems you haven't changed at all." His thumb pressed harder onto your cunt, rubbing your clit side to side as the palm of his hand pressed firmly down upon your womb. He watched you fall apart with glee, sliding his other hands between your thighs and gently nudging a finger inside of you. You threw your headback into the sheets, grabbing the duvet desperately, your hips trembling as you felt your sanity waste away to the pleasure wracked into your body.

You always fell apart so prettily.

Your hand shakily reached out to Alastor, your lips quivering as a second finger curled into your cunt—the heel of his hand hitting the underside of your puffy clit as he kept toying with the bud. It burned, terribly so. Considering how much larger his stature was to yours, how much larger his finger would be to your own, it was a miracle you weren’t ripped in half yet. Although, it sure felt as though you were.

Alastor stretched you out relentlessly, scissoring inside of you before curling the pads of his fingers plush against your g-spot. You arched your back desperately, crying out as your hips stuttered in response. And Alastor kept prying there. His fingers pounding into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over and over until you felt as though you'd die from the overstimulation. As you reached out to Alastor, the black tendrils appeared once more. Grabbing your wrists before tying your hands together and in front of your chest as through you were praying—and perhaps you were. Praying to Alastor to slow down, to be more gentle.

A third finger was nudged deep inside of you, pairing with the speed of his thumb on your clit increasing. His fingers pounded into you feverishly, sounds of your arousal soaking your inner thighs and his forearm—dirtying the sleeve of his pinstriped coat. You couldn't concentrate, no longer resisting against the firm hold his shadows had upon your wrists. No longer holding back your sweet moans.

A burning desire began to pool in your gut.

"Alastor, p-please—"

A hand gripped your throat.

"What was that?"

"A-Al, please— I'm gonna cu—m!" He smiled to you. You always were a quick learner.

"Cum then, dear." His fingers sped up their speed inside your cunt, recklessly pounding and curling into you, brusing your g-spot painfully as you sobbed out, clenching your pussy around his cock as you squirt onto him. Alastor smiled, leaning down to suck your clit and swirl his tongue around the bud as your mouth opened silently. Your hips struggled away, and yet his shoulders spread your knees firmly, the underside of your thighs thrown over them. Alastor continued to bully your pussy past your orgasm, sucking and licking your clit as his fingers continued to curl and pound into you to ride out your high. You were crying endlessly. Begging him to stop, that it was enough. And yet, he didn't pull out his hand until you were merely twitched and whimpering in his bed. Broken.

"Have you lost yourself in the pleasure, Cher?" Alastor was manic. Your pleasure felt like a high he couldn't describe. The way your fingers clencthed around him, he felt as though it was a sign. A sign that all your struggling was only to encourage him to fight against you, a sign that you were only pretending to be scared.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Your eyes widened open when you felt the tip of his cock slide between your folds, Alastor having removed his clothing now too. You struggled, trying to sit up when his hand once again held your throat warningly, choking you lightly against the mattress—gently enough that you could take slow, shallow breaths.

"Al, it's not gonna fi—!" Your mouth fell open silently as Alastor suddenly shoved the head of his cock inside of you. Your pool of arousal allowing him to slide in with just a minor amount of resistance—minor to his strength at least.

Meanwhile, your eyes blew wide as you whimpered out desperately, struggling against the binds on your wrists as your cunt stretched around him. He was big, painfully so. And you were thankful he decided to slide the remaining of his length in slowly, inch by inch. And yet, even when he was just halfway, you felt as though he was already plush against your cervix.

"Is she resisting, hmm? I guess a little force would be needed in the end." Before you could understand what Alastor meant, he slammed the remaining half of his length deep inside of you as you screamed out, your hands curling tight fists as your nails dug deep crescents into your palms.

Before you knew it, Alastor pulled out to the tip, and slammed right back into you. His pace was unwavering. A hand gripped on your neck, the other pressing you into the mattress by a palm against your womb as he split you on his cock. Alastor pounded into you, skin against skin as you soaked his cock, splashing your arousal onto his pelvis and lower stomach. He was big, too big. Tears streamed down your face, and Alastor only wiped them with his thumb before licking it into his mouth. He wanted to taste your fear.

He wanted to rip you apart.

Your chest heaved as his thumb came down to your clit once more, roughly pressing onto you before swirling it harshly. You arched your back, clawing at the wrist on your throat as you moaned, crying around his cock when the underside of it would press into your g-spot, when the head of it would slam so deep against your cervix you felt he might fuck himself into your womb. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a hand gripping the torn sheets below you as you cried out when your pussy clentched around him.

"Please, please, can I c-cum—" You sobbed, looking down to where you and Alastor where connected, seeing your cunt stretched impossibly wide for your ex-fiancé's cock.

"Don't you dare."

"Please, Cher."

Fuck.

You drove him fucking crazy.

Alastor swore he could’ve cum on the spot from hearing you finally call him Cher once more, the name you neglected from him. The only name you should be calling him. Alastor laughed.

"You truly know me so well, my Dear." Alastor's pace increased. His cock pounding into you hard enough to have your tits bouncing and the frame of the bed on the verge of giving out—your cunt clentching onto his fat cock even more.

"You can cum in three seconds." You nodded stupidly, too desparate to think.

Alastor pulled back to the tip, slamming back inside.

"Three," His palm pressed into your womb, feeling the buldge of his dick against his hand, his cock dragging against your velvety walls. You swore you were going to die if you couldn't cum soon, Alastor's counting teasingly slow as he fucked into you like a fleshlight. Like a pet.

"Two." Your pussy fluttered against him, Alastor's shadow taking his place on your clit as it swrled the bud ruthlessly—his now free hand grabbing your face to squish your cheeks.

"One," You whined, sliding your hands to his upper back as you raked down his skin.

"Please, please, please, let me cum." You were going crazy.

"Cum." You threw your head back, near screaming his name like a mantra as you clencthed around him, squirting for the second time that night as his cock continued to pound deep inside of you. Alastor let go of your throat, his hands sliding beneath the underside of your thighs to push your knees into your chest—fucking you meanly in a harsh mating press as he refused to slow down. You felt like your soul was going to fall out your body, your pussy spasming as Alastor continued to pound into you without any concern to your fresh orgasm and painful overstimulation that burned your walls.

"C-Cher, Al—please, I can'—"

And for the first time since 1933, and for the first time together, in the new realm of Hell—Alastor kissed you.

His kiss was soft, gentle, loving. His hips never stilled, continuing to rip orgasm after orgasm out of your poor little pussy. Although, his mouth was soft against yours, eyes closed and hand holding your neck lightly as the tips of his fingers graced your bruised skin. Bruised with the marks of his love, his obsession.

He held your face as kindly, as though you may be gone if he didn't keep you in his arms forever. Alastor's tongue slid into your mouth slowly, and you moaned around him—letting him in. Your body missed him so much.

Maybe you still love him, even after it all.

Alastor's pace became staggered, his hips slowing until he kept his cock deep inside and came directly into your womb. His load gushed out from the sides of your hole that stretched around him, stuffing you full. Alastor allowed your thighs to rest by his hips, laying you back against the mattress as he continued to kiss you. His hands massaged your body, comforting the bites, hickeys, and bruises.

"I love you, my Dear."

Alastor spoke softly, pulling away from you. Admiring your fucked out state.

"So don't leave me ever again."

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foxy-eva · 5 months

Text

Rite of Passage

Summary: Spencer is home alone with his daughter when she gets her period for the first time

Request: Spencer and Reader are married. They have a teenage daughter who gets her period for the first time (initially requested to @imagining-in-the-margins)

Pairing: Technically Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader but it’s mostly about Spencer and his daughter!

Category: Comfort, Fluff

Content Warnings: mentions blood, menstruation, period hygiene, cramps, female anatomy and biology, crying, food

Author's Note: I wrote this for @/imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Writing Challenge!

Masterlist

Sunday mornings always brought a certain calmness with them. Spencer was still half asleep when you kissed him goodbye, leaving for a little day trip with your friends when the sun was barely up.

Spencer mumbled something that should have sounded like I love you before he closed his eyes once more, looking forward to some father-daughter quality time with your wonderful kid Marie.

That was until he was awoken by shrill screams coming from her room.

You were long gone when Spencer jumped out of bed, all of his years working with the FBI having him expect the worst. He rushed into his daughter’s room, finding her sitting in her bed, a look of horror spread across her face.

“Are you okay!?” Spencer almost yelled when he reached her bedside.

His daughter slowly shook her head while pulling back the blanket, revealing small blood stains on her pajama pants and the sheets. It only took Spencer a split second to realize what was happening. His facial features softened instantly.

He thought he still had a few more months, maybe even another year, until this would happen. He had also hoped that you would be home for this occasion, certainly handling this a lot better than he ever could.

“Oh sweetie,” he cooed while sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I think you got your period.”

Instead of saying anything, Marie just buried her face in her hands and started wailing. Spencer wasn’t sure if she was still in shock or if the general discomfort made her cry.

“It’s okay. It just means you’re becoming a woman.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could have taken them back. He hated the thought that his little girl was actually growing up more than anything. And it certainly didn't help in this moment.

Without thinking about it, he did what he was most comfortable with and started rambling, “We talked about this, do you remember? It means that your uterine lining is shedding which results in the discharge of blood through your–”

“Dad!” She cried. “Please stop talking about my… you know! It’s weird!”

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop.”

His little girl wiped away some tears from her cheeks before muttering, “Where’s mom? I wanna talk to her.”

Spencer sighed. He would have liked nothing more than to be able to let you take over right then. “She already left for her day trip. She won’t be home until six.”

This explanation only led to more crying. Spencer reached out his hand to offer comfort with a gentle touch on her arm but Marie shied away from him.

“I feel gross,” she whined.

“Why don’t you hop in the shower to get clean and then change into fresh clothes?”

It seemed like he finally said something helpful. Her sobs simmered down as she got up from her bed to walk over to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Spencer quickly changed the sheets and put out some clean clothes for his daughter before disappearing in his bedroom.

He let out a loud breath as he reached for his phone to call you. Before you could say anything, he blurted out, “She got her period and won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh my poor girl! Is she with you right now?” You wanted to know.

“She’s in the shower. Can you please come home?”

You knew that he wasn’t being serious. A quiet laugh escaped our mouth before you said, “Don't be so dramatic, Spencer. I’m sure you're very capable of handling this.”

“I told her that her uterine lining was shedding. It was not helpful,” he sighed.

“Yeah, maybe hold off on the biology lesson for now. You know where my pads are, right?”

“Oh yeah, right. She's gonna need them.” Spencer paused for a second. “Oh god, what if she wants to use a tampon? I can’t explain that to her. That conversation will make the both of us cry.”

“Give her a pad for now, those are self-explanatory. I can talk to her about tampons later if she wants.”

“Okay, okay, yeah. She just turned off the shower, I gotta go!”

“Good luck! And stop panicking!”

That was easier said than done. Spencer almost jumped when he heard Marie knocking on the bedroom door.

“You can come in!”

His daughter, tightly wrapped in a bathrobe, stepped into the room. She had stopped crying but still seemed upset. Spencer’s heart always broke a little when he saw his little girl in discomfort.

“I’m still uhm…bleeding,” she whispered.

“Yes, that's gonna last a couple of days,” Spencer replied with a soft voice. He disappeared in the master bathroom for a second to get a pack of pads. “Here. Do you know how to use them?”

“I’m not an idiot, dad,” she snubbed.

The tone of her voice gave away how irritated she was. Usually Spencer would remind her to be more respectful but decided to let it slide this time.

“I know, Mimi. I just wanted to make sure,” he said instead.

The use of this nickname for his daughter was yet another reminder of a time that seemed so long gone right then. Marie had trouble pronouncing her own name as a toddler so she’d say Mimi instead. Spencer loved it so much that he stuck with it ever since.

Without saying another word, she disappeared in her room. Spencer rubbed his temples for a moment before getting ready for the day himself. He decided to give his daughter some space and prepare breakfast in the meantime.

He was focussed on not burning the chocolate chip pancakes he was making when Marie stepped into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she mumbled.

Spencer turned his head to smile at his daughter. “It's okay, sweetie. I know you aren’t feeling well.”

She placed her hands on her lower stomach and muttered, “It hurts.”

“Here,” Spencer said as he reached for the hot water bottle he had already prepared. “Heat has a proven effect on relieving period cramps.”

“Thank you.”

A timid smile appeared on her face when she realized her father was preparing her favorite breakfast. She stepped closer to catch a glimpse of the pan while chirping, “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better, Mimi,” Spencer spoke in a soft voice while offering his daughter a hug.

This time she accepted, tightly wrapping her arms around him. Spencer was relieved that he didn’t mess up yet another thing. Marie was very bright and realized something Spencer had thought about earlier, too.

“Wait,” she said as she stepped back. “You always make mom her favorite meal when she’s in a bad mood.”

“You have a lot in common with your mother, “ he explained. “I figured I should try what works for her.”

“Now you’ll have to deal with two cranky girls in the house,” Marie laughed while taking out two plates.

“I really don't mind,” he sincerely replied. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to have all kinds of uncomfortable side effects during your period. Taking care of your mom – and now you – is the least I could do.”

After a moment of silence she said, “Earlier you said that I’m becoming a woman now. I thought about that when I was in the shower… What if I don't wanna grow up yet?”

“I don’t know if that helps, but… You’ll always be my little girl,” Spencer responded while filling both plates with pancakes.

“So you’ll still watch Disney movies with me?”

A wide smile spread over Spencer’s face as he took the plates to walk over to the couch. “I was hoping you'd ask!”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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junislqve · 1 month

Text

athlete bf! enhypen ✶ ot7

꒰ 𝑎 ꒱ how enhypen would be like as your athletic boyfriend.

pairs athlete!bf enhypen x reader content kissing skinship fluff not proofread ( 520 )

REBLOG if you enjoyed — click me.

LEE HEESEUNG — his favorite hobby is kissing you after winning a big game. no matter how many people were watching or if it wasn’t appropriate on school grounds, all he needed was you. “don’t you think i deserve a reward, baby?” flashing his grin at you.

PARK JONGSEONG — it was a tradition for you to attend his games as a ‘good luck charm’. sometimes when you couldn’t attend ones that he won he’d go home sulking anyway, clinging onto you. “you’ll watch my next one, right, babe?” his voice was muffled on your shoulders. his hands and arms were all wrapping around you. your face pushed on his chest. “i need you”

SIM JAEYUN — you thought you were slick when you’d stare at his figure all drenched after football practice. something about when he wipes his face using the hem of his shirt, a sliver of his stomach exposed and his shirt stuck to his body due to sweat had you feeling dizzy. “like what you see?” jake called out from the field, rousing you from your daze, his face split into a sly smile.

PARK SUNGHOON — something you both love more than laying in bed and binging a show is going on impromptu night escapades. or more like hogging the ice skating rink hoon uses at midnight and playing until you both were too tired. whether you were great or terrible at skating, hoon’s hands would never leave your waist, “what if you fall and hurt yourself?” in the end, when you both were about to leave the rink, hoon pulled you back for a sweet kiss, skating off the rink the next second.

YANG JUNGWON — “put your hands below the ball” jungwon’s soft voice traveled through your ears like a melody. you figured your heart was beating way faster than the airplane flying past right above you. won’s hands were gentle on yours, guiding your hands the right way. you felt bad for him, the way he was teaching you so passionately and you could barely focus on anything other than his breathing that fanned over your shoulder. “am i making you nervous?”

KIM SUNOO — “put me down” you shout as sunoo’s grip on you tightened. “hold on, pretty” he said, his hands rubbing your thighs in attempt to calm you. that was all it took for you to shut up and wait for the camera and flash to click. sunoo slowly brought you down from your position with your legs around his neck and you threw him a faux glare. “fuck you and your stupid biceps”

NISHIMURA RIKI — it wasn’t easy to fluster your boyfriend. you’ve tried, plenty of times. if anything, you thought flustering riki would be easy, but when he caught on to what you were doing he made it his mission to not fall into your tricks. “how was practice” riki walked into his flat, dropping his duffel bag on the couch, “it was—“ riki stared back at you when you looked up in confusion. “don’t wear that again” was all he said before he went inside his room to change. what he didn’t know was that you saw his ears so bright red just as the door closed.

juni : hi guys.. its been a second

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kiss-me-muchoo · 9 months

Text

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: stop, you’re losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Coriolanus Snow had once a sweet girlfriend that helped him in his darkest days. Until he betrayed her and on the post-Hunger Games celebration, he gave her all the reasons to leave him. Not without causing her a breakdown that makes him regret everything.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ capitol ballerina!reader, soft!Coryo at the beginning, slight canon divergence, manipulation, sex implied, violence, reader has a mental breakdown that ends in tragedy, if you don’t want to read about mental health, beware!!!!!!

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ I had to split this into two parts. Next part will be slowburn, early politician!Coryo realising he married a half rebel woman and many many dramaaaa. Songs for this: Stop, you’re losing me and tírate lol.

♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

__________________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t possible. But Coriolanus could swear that even days after, the smell of fresh paint was still lingering on the air of his penthouse. Maybe because the smell was actually gone since a week ago, but he refused to let go the memory of you and your face with splotches of paint.

On a bright winter morning, you appeared early with buckets of paint. Tigris insisted that none of the Snows could accept the offer, saying it was too much. The walls were full of humidity, paint falling by itself. You could see the sadness on Grandma’am, Coriolanus and his grandmother were very patriotic, the old woman would frequently miss the days before the war, where the penthouse was bright and full of life.

Through a peaceful argument, as Tigris insisted on not taking the buckets of paint, you had already opened one and with a big brush, you splashed a wall from the entrance. The new color was shiny on top of the old layer, and it brought a giant smile to the elder woman.

Coriolanus had so much fun, thinking his girlfriend was the best and spent the day together, listening to the old radio as both of you painted the whole place.

Now, the apartment was still a mess, but the bright olive-green walls made it better.

It had been a thing of destiny that you appeared on the second year of the Academy. You were a loner, always choosing to work on your own for projects. During lunch, you only had two girlfriends, and Coriolanus was able to see that you laughed so hard every time you were with them. He also learned you had a dark humor, making fun of everyone. Like the school staff, Arachne Crane, other classmates, even the president. He grew curious of you. And one random day, after only you and Coriolanus where the only people missing a partner for a science project, a teacher matched you two.

Some months later, you discovered about his financial situation. And Coriolanus had been so scared, thinking you would share the secret and ruin his life. But the next morning, you handed him half of your lunch, knowing he was starving, because at the time, the Academy didn’t offered lunch yet.

The act made Coriolanus Snow realize he could trust you. You met his cousin and grandmother, bringing a giant box full of pastries as a present for them.

Tigris was at the verge of tears and immediately thought you were the one for her little cousin.

Soon it became real. After you turned seventeen, he asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend. Now, time had slowly passed, moving you two into a different season.

“CORYO! IT’S ABOUT TO START! HURRY UP!” Tigris shouted from the kitchen. He sighed, only to end up coughing.

“ALMOST DONE!” He shouted back. His wet hair making him shiver, rapidly wandering across his room to find his body lotion. Eucalyptus. Coriolanus used to hate the smell of eucalyptus. But he started liking the odor since you had a candle made of it in your room. A little after, you gifted him a lotion and perfume of eucalyptus.

Only that Coriolanus couldn’t smell since his nose was congested. He caught a flu, and while he was feeling better, he was still struggling to inhale and breathe properly.

“IF YOU ARE NOT HERE IN THE FOLLOWING FIVE MINUTES, I’M COMING TO GET YOU!” Coriolanus giggled at his cousin threatening him. After putting on a warm sweater and some dressing pants, he came out of his room.

His family was already gathered in the living room, with the tv on. He turned to the dining table, looking at the bouquet of white and red roses, he smiled, hoping you would be happy to see them. Spring was around the corner, the firsts flowers from his grandmother’s top garden had bloomed. At the same time, your first-year anniversary with the young Snow was coming.

The annual gala of arts had existed since the first days of Panem. With music, sculpture, paint, drama and dance performances. It used to be private, then the war happened, and it was suspended. And now, it had been five years since it started to be a show anyone with a tv could see.

Your father was the owner of production establishments of Panem, who happened to have married a famous dancer, also owner of the biggest dance company in the Capitol. No clue how you turned out to be a wonderful sight on stage.

And that’s why Coriolanus was expected to come and see the tv. You were about to perform in the gala.

“Who’s out now?” He asked, sitting beside Tigris.

Grandma’am was crocheting something pink and the whole place was cold as the North Pole.

“A girl from District 1.” Before meeting you, Coriolanus had less than the slight knowledge on dance styles. He just knew it was mostly for women, with exorbitant gowns and shoes that seemed pretty. However, the girl on the screen was dancing with bare feet, along a man.

Some weeks after Coriolanus accepted he had feelings for you, he questioned if it was a good idea to join your mother’s dance company so that you would fall easily for him. It wasn’t necessary because you liked him as soon as he made you smile and laugh.

“Oh Coryo! She’s next!” Tigris said, taking his hand while looking nervously at the tv. Coriolanus always thought Tigris was a worrier most of the time, she always got so into her job, always thinking of what if. Seconds later, you appeared, immediately Grandma’am started to cheer and say out loud how beautiful you looked. Red and black dress with a ruffled tutu, your pink thighs and pointe shoes in a perfectly hidden ribbon. And a red flower with feathers and sequins in your head that had Tigris worried about. She made the headpiece for you. And she feared it would fall from your head. Coriolanus soothed her before coming back to smile like an idiot on the tv.

That was his girlfriend. He had literally pulled one of the most beautiful, if not the most perfect girl of Panem.

The music started and it was a delight for him. He always enjoyed classical music. And the one you danced along was a little faster and vivid than usual, making it impossible to keep any eye in any other place but you and your cocky smile.

Coriolanus knew you had an ego. And he loved to fuel it by saying how gorgeous you were all the time. So, he couldn’t wait for you to arrive on his door. Even when he pleaded you not to come, since he didn’t want to be a contagious asset for you. You hadn’t care, bringing some medicines, chicken broth soup and a lot of mint to help with his congestion the day before.

That’s why he felt even more empowered to keep going and win that prize. It was announced before the winter break and the holidays. He promised himself to win so he could become someone. Enough greater to make him worthy from having you. Because now at eighteen, he aspired to be in your life forever.

So, as you shined on that stage, spinning and standing on pointe, Coriolanus mentally repeated that he loved you. He said it occasionally to you, but most of the time he preferred saying it by holding your hand, kissing you and helping with your homework. Sometimes he wondered what true love was. If he was a capable of giving that to you. He wasn’t able to give you presents, only a tiny bouquet of flowers from his grandma’am. He couldn’t take you out on dates to fancy restaurants, not even offering you to stay for dinner in his place. Your dates where on his old rooftop, your bedroom or patio. Unlike you, who came every Friday after school with food for the family. You constantly gifted little things, like perfumes, a new shirt, anything to make his life easier.

His smile only grows bigger as your performance is about to be over. He admires the way your body is able to be so flexible and consistent. He had also seen the pain behind looking like an elegant feather. Some afternoons when he visited your room, you were tired, soaking your feet in warm water to soothe the ache.

But for now, he treasures the image of your smile as you make some reverence, ending your presentation.

“Oh dear… She was perfect!” Grandma’am said happily, with the round of applause on the tv in the background.

“And the headpiece survived the whole time!” Coriolanus rolled his eyes, smiling at his cousin.

As his family talked about your dress and the investments of your parents, the blonde boy returned to see the flower bouquet.

He really hoped you would love them, that you hadn’t turned bored of only receiving flowers from him.

One day, he would buy you expensive jewelry. He would give you the finest dinners and he would find the most beautiful house around the area for you. Only that way he would feel worthy of having you. Only that way he would find appropriate to call you his in all matters.

For now, he was just hanging there. Doing everything to win that prize. Giving you the least he had and shyly accepting all the things you provided him. That’s how he knew you truly loved him. You cared for his family and him. And Coriolanus swore nobody on earth would care that much for him like you.

Making it the main reason why he knew he had to rush it. He had to give you everything.

Not that you minded.

As you encouraged the family driver; Trevor, to take the route he considered most convenient to make it faster to your boyfriend’s place. You smile.

Oh, how you loved your boy.

You loved greeting him with a kiss on the lips followed by little pecks around. He giggled, probably believing you were so silly, but he would lean to kiss you so deeply again.

“We’re almost there, miss” you nod, looking through the window.

“Thank you, Trevor.”

“Should I wait or send Roger to pick you up late?” Roger was your father’s bodyguard. He was tasked to take care of you for his night shift sometimes. You liked Trevor better; he was a kind man of family. You had met his wife and beautiful daughters, sending them presents for their birthdays.

“Not sure yet. But you can go home and rest. It’s Friday and you need to be with your family, Trevor” he smiled, thinking how sweet you were. He cared a lot for you, almost like another daughter.

“Your mother won’t be happy. She was already irritated that you left the gala so early…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out” with that being said, he parked outside of the building. Trevor handed you some bags, full of food, wood and other things. Then your ballet bag. Ready to leave. The whole day, after leaving the Academy, you were only lounging to finish with the gala to went straight to your man’s arms.

“If anything, you call me. Alright?” You smile nodding at the man.

“Alright.” After a exchange of smiles, you wave him goodbye, and he disappears through the empty street.

It was a cloudy day, Lucky Flickerman said it was going to be a thunderstorm night at the Capitol. Gripping your coat tightly, you enter the building.

…

The door suddenly is open, and Coriolanus hears your voice calling from the entrance.

“Where’s everyone?” Tigris volts out from the living room, hurrying to greet you.

“But of course, we were watching you on the tv. Where else?” You laugh, hugging the young woman.

Then Grandma’am also joins to greet, saying you are gorgeous on stage.

“And where’s my boy?” You asked, wandering around. Coriolanus finally appears from the hallway with a smile. You could tell he had showered. His curls looked softer than ever.

He wants to laugh; you are still on thighs. With some black heels, and he can see a tutu under your coat.

Tigris and the elder woman decide to take the food to serve dinner, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. Both of you hear them saying how thankful they were to have food another week.

You open your arms, and he goes straight to hug you. Your hands cradle his face before standing on your tip toes to kiss him.

“How are you feeling?” He seemed to look and feel better. Apparently, the medicines worked.

“A lot better…”

“I missed you.” He also did. If his health hadn’t been compromised, he would’ve attended the gala with you.

“Me too. But you should have stayed home.” It had been a rough week at the Academy, the rehearsals for the gala, acting as a nurse for your sick boyfriend.

“We always spend Fridays together, silly.” He doesn’t deserve you.

“You were beautiful today. Although… you’re always perfect.” You blush, kissing his cheek before following him inside his penthouse.

The smell of mashed potatoes, the piece of ham you brought, and bread fill the place. It had been a little while since Coriolanus could only smell the boiled cabbage and hear his stomach painfully churning.

When you enter the room, you see the big bouquet of roses. You turn to see Coriolanus in disbelief, smiling.

“I hope you like them” the jar is old, but it looks amazing with the perfectly accommodated flowers. Your fingers gently grasp the soft petals. You are so in love with him.

“I will never get tired of this. I love them!” You turn around and Coriolanus sees your face full of adoration. You literally jump to kiss him. Always being received by the passionate yet slow and delicate of his kisses. One hand gently on your neck while the other rested on your cheek. Some strands of his blonde curls brushing against your forehead as your heels make it slightly even when it comes to height.

“Look at them. My future president of Panem and his First Lady.” Tigris giggles at her grandmother, but smiles deeply, happy to see her little cousin in love. And extremely thankful that he found a warm and generous woman like you to have in his life. Because in her head, Coriolanus deserved better.

“Let’s just pray that they graduate for now, Grandma’am.” She adds grabbing the old porcelain plates they have to serve the food.

And it’s a thunder what startles you, squirming away from your boyfriend. He laughs, holding you closer again after seeing you got scared.

“It’s raining!” Tigris announces from the kitchen.

“Guess you’ll have to stay the night.” His cheeky smile makes you gently push him. Your mother was going to be mad. But Tigris would intervene and say it was okay.

It wasn’t the first time you stayed though.

…

There are at least six candles around the room. The temperature decreased significantly after dinner. The water you used to clean the dishes was almost freezing. And Coriolanus wanted to die out of embarrassment when you started heating water on the fireplace to take a shower.

You had said it was nothing and that you don’t mind. But still, he felt so wrong.

Now, he was seating against the head of his bed. Watching how you curated your swollen feet. You pinched some blisters with a needle that had carefully been burned with a match. And now, it was time to put some cream and finally wrap the area with bandages.

“Does it hurt a lot?” He asked.

“Not much. I’m used to it now” you replied without looking at him. Still concentrated on your feet.

“I’m sorry about the water.” You frown, finally turning to see him.

“Why do you keep apologizing?” He shrugs, slightly irritated.

“Because I wish I could give you more and I can��t.” he didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but he does. Your lips form a line, before crawling until you mere kneeling bedside him on the bed.

“I hate to see you doing things you don’t have the necessity to do so. I hate not being able to treat you like my girlfriend and more like friend. I want to give you the world and I can’t.”

“Coriolanus… Look at me.” You take his hand, and with the other, you are tracing invisible line on his chin with your thumb. He looks at you, eyes slightly watered, making your heart swell for him.

“Life could’ve been so different, I could’ve been in your position, and you in mine.” He closes his eyes, thinking about his terrible luck.

“You charmed me before I knew everything about you. You know it, right?” He nods, tilting his head just to feel more of your touch. In response, you are again grabbing his cheeks.

“You have to let me help you now. That’s what couples do. They help each other. One day you’ll be able to give me anything you want. But for now, I will give you anything just to not see you struggling. Nor your family” your forehead is brushing his, and he can only attempt to nod as you speak.

“And remember, my love. You already make me happy. I’m already proud of you.” He doesn’t cry, but he’s at the verge of. He just hides his face on your neck. And there’s a wet spot on your skin, but you don’t say anything, you just tighten your embrace of him, smiling as you kiss his hair.

“I love you.” He says and it surprises you. While you know he loves you, you are aware that he’s not used to say it very often.

“I love you too, Coryo.”

He promises himself that he will do everything in his will to chase power. To change his faith and give you what you deserve.

The thunderstorm was powerful enough to scare you once in a while. As you were playing cards with Coriolanus, he took your hand every time you got startled. Tigris said goodnight and suggested to keep the door unlocked. Making you blush and Coriolanus too.

“I’m bored.” You said, laying on your side, facing your boyfriend. He dropped his joint of card too, hand landing on your hip, caressing the skin.

“What do you want to do?” You notice the way he’s touching you. It’s slightly inappropriate and it makes you grin.

“You are already suggesting something” his eyes widened, embarrassment flooding him.

“I’m sorry” you chuckle, noticing how shy and insecure he could be.

“Don’t you want to?” It’s your next move what almost makes him choke. You move forward, taking a sit on his lap.

“Of course I want to. Just not here.” You roll your eyes, hands massaging his shoulders, making him groan in delight. Your cream nightgown had lifted, showing him your bare legs. The long sleeve felt so soft against his hands.

“As long as you’re with me, I don’t mind where we’re doing it.” He’s unsure, but he can feel himself getting hard. Finally, after months of having only the company of his hand, he could claim you. He doesn’t love that it’s going to happen in his old bed, in his messed-up room. But you look so gorgeous with bare light from the candles. Now half naked showing him for the first time your naked body.

“Are you sure?” He asks one last time, feeling a string of saliva connected between your lips and his. It’s dirty, messy and extremely erotic to be the first time.

“Believe me, nothing wakes up Tigris and Grandma’am. We’re safe…”

“Alright. I trust you, Coryo.”

“Good. Now get on your back and spread those legs for me.” His possessive side would always surprise you. But you enjoyed it. And now, as the thunderstorm keeps going you let his possessive side dominate you.

“God, I love you.” You say as he makes you believe the rain falling outside were actually stars.

…

“Look at the tragic lovers, already in pose for a war memorial portrait”. You roll your eyes at Arachne. You hear Felix, Festus and even Clemmie laughing along other classmates. Coriolanus ignores her, taking your hand, reassuring you. The building was getting crowded. The Reaping was around the corner, but you were only praying for your boyfriend. Hoping to leave the place with the prize on his hands.

“Careful, Arachne. One day they might have a portrait in the parliament building” Clemensia says giggling.

“How? Because Coriolanus would be Panem’s president and y/n as First Lady? Allow me to laugh…” you can listen to her annoying voice. Something you always wished was a good friendship with your classmates. But it was difficult. Arachne was very competitive and judgmental; Festus was tedious along Felix. Persephone was extremely quiet; Livia was too naïve. Only Clemensia and Sejanus seemed to be genuine with you.

“Who knows?” Sejanus spoke from the other side of rows, walking to seat beside Arachne and your boyfriend. You smiled at him, and he reciprocated it. Coriolanus was too lost on his thoughts to pay attention to the little argument. Until Sejanus tilted his head to whisper something to him.

“There is no prize anymore.” The blonde turns to look at him in confusion. But the ceremony has officially started. He feels you taking his hand in disguise. And it’s the only reason why he feels less nervous.

Until Dean Highbottom reveals the sudden changes, which makes your heart pound faster. And without a warning, the listing of tributes begins. You look away when you see the little girl named Wovey being focused on camera, the sadness and uneasy churn in your stomach hitting you by the end of District 11 tributes.

And finally, the songbird is paired with Coriolanus.

He sees the way you frown, cringed by her singing. Even when she had a wonderful voice, it was unexpected and certainly odd for some. Then, he sees you cover your mouth in disbelief when she curses on the microphone. Coriolanus can’t tell, but he assumes it’s gonna be a little difficult to deal with that girl. Seeing zero chances to win.

Then he realised the tributes were mentioned. The Reaping had finished.

It’s over. Everyone has a tribute except for you. Dean Highbottom resumes the listing walking away, making you turn to see him, raising your hand immediately. Ready to ask questions.

“Put your hand down, Miss y/l/n. It’s not a mistake the order of the listing” you hear Dr. Gaul saying firmly. When you turn around, she’s there, offering a cold yet deep look with her unmatched eye irises.

Slowly, your hand goes down, laying on your lap, slightly shaking.

“Your parents have been generous enough to become official sponsors of the games.” Voices echo across the room, gossiping about the news. Even for you, this was a surprise.

Coriolanus looks at you but doesn’t say anything. He just wondered how much this would make your family richer.

“The mentors have to make their tributes a spectacle. But your task is to make all of the 10th Hunger Games a massive spectacle. Propaganda, production and strategy…” your face goes pale. But you dare to question it.

“Is this some type of punishment?” Gaul laughs, offering a genuine smile later, her hands together, like she was comfortable on her spot.

“Consider this your admission test. You won’t be fighting for the prize, but this would give you enough honors to automatically join the best branches of the Capitol’s University.” Quietly, you nod under the curious look of your classmates. The look of Arachne full of envy, Clemensia confused, Sejanus doubting. And your dear Coriolanus, he was happy to be honest. You could easily make his tribute look presentable so he could win. He would get the prize, get into university, become a political figure if not president and finally give you anything he couldn’t before.

But for now, the ceremony is over. You say goodbye to your friends, and you walk with Coriolanus, he takes your hand and together leave the place.

…

Your vision looks lost, but seemingly focused on the cracked floor. Coriolanus had been looking at you, he crossed his arms, but still nothing. Your heels were scattered, but you looked very comfortable at the edge of his bed.

“What’s on your mind, sweets?” You feel the cushions sinking beside you, his palm goes to rub your back, taking you back to reality.

“I don’t want the weight of all those upcoming deaths on me. On making it an entertainment…” rarely you spoke about the games or politics with your boyfriend. Mostly it was about university, future plans, music, and random pieces of your lives.

“It won’t be your fault, y/n. This will prove to everyone in the Capitol how worthy you are” he tries to soothe you.

“Still. While I do believe we deserve peace and to gain the respect the First Rebellion took from us, I do believe that putting some children to kill each other in the arena each year isn’t going to make a change” he sighed.

“That little girl…” he had seen the kid. But he grew indifferent to that, he was only focused on winning, and he was going to try to psyche you into the same.

“What terrifies you so much?” He asks, finally making you look at him in the eye.

“I have a bad feeling, Coryo. Like everything is gonna go down bad” you admit. You couldn’t tell if it was the change, your new task or Lucy Gray Baird. You were avoiding being judgmental, but as soon as you saw what she did with that snake, your initial thought was that she was a problem.

“None of that. You are making this Hunger Games unforgettable; I’m winning the prize. And that’s it, we will go to university together and make all those things we’ve talked about. That’s all that matters, y/n. Right?” It’s inevitable, you know it’s some sort of manipulation.

He does it with good intentions, but you don’t like it.

“I will give my best to make this whole thing memorable. I will try to make your songbird win. But none of this will wash away the guilt.”

Before the moment can get uncomfortable, Tigris enters the room. She smiles before standing against the little desk Coriolanus had.

“How was it? Tell me everything” she’s anxious to know everything, but for sure knows Coriolanus didn’t get the prize.

“We’ll give you the details in the table. But for now, I’m mentoring the tribute from District 12. y/n is in charge of the game's propaganda” her blonde brows furrow.

“The girl who singed?” Both of you nod. She sighs, crossing her arms.

“This isn’t what was supposed to happen…” Tigris adds. Again, you let yourself fall against the mattress, covering your face.

“Making the games’ an spectacle. What were they thinking?” Coriolanus exchanged looks with Tigris. She understood his look. Mentally telling him to give you some female soothing advice. She decided then to take seat too. You end up sandwiched between them.

It’s her hand brushing some hairs away your neck and face. Tigris had always treated you like family. And that’s why you felt more guilty. Because you wanted Coriolanus to win so badly, to help his family but you also thought about the tributes. About making their deaths some type of entertainment for everyone to watch.

“Sounds unfair. A lot of things from the Capitol are wrong.” You nod. When you see them, you are received by the cousins giving you soothing looks.

“I just want this to be over…”

“It’ll pass. Everything will go great. You’re smart and very talented. And we’ll help you in everything we can” you have to give her a little hug.

“And I’ll help my boy too. That girl is going to be a problem” Coriolanus rolls his eyes, thinking the same as you.

“See? Let’s just be optimistic.” Tigris stands up excitedly, later looking for something on her dress pocket.

“Tigris. I’m making dinner. Do not boil any more cabbage” you giggle, and Coriolanus has to smile, admitting to himself that just by seeing you happy he felt better.

“No. You don’t have to.”

“Please. Just let me go for some groceries.” She nods shyly. Then she pulls out some little bag from the pocket.

“Fine. But you are taking these from now on…” she throws the bag and dissapears. When you look inside the bag, you take out a box of pills. Immediately your cheeks turn red.

“Oh my god” you hand the box to the boy.

“Oh…” they’re birth control pills.

Soon both of you start laughing before you have to give him a kiss. Probably it was for the best because Coriolanus Snow never pulled out. And luckily you weren’t pregnant yet.

“I’ll get the groceries from Trevor” he nods, watching you walk away.

You briefly stop after seeing the picture on a frame. Of Coriolanus as a baby and his mother carrying him. Beside that picture, there’s one you hadn’t seen before. It’s you, from the gala of last year. You wore a red dress with pink ribbons and long gloves that matched the gown. You are smiling, not at the camera.

You were smiling at Coriolanus, who had insisted the photographer to take a picture of only you.

The feeling of happiness, bliss and peace hit you, making it impossible to leave your boyfriend’s room without a giant smile.

…

Speaking out loud had never been your thing. You sucked for speeches, debates. Well, only to prepare for them. Your hands would shake, and your face would turn red. But at the moment to step into the highlight, you were wonderful.

And it was noticeable.

“Here I am with the lovely y/n y/l/n, who’s in charge of directing the course of this games this year. Tell me y/n, was your idea to bring the tributes to the zoo?”

“No. To be honest, my directing journey officially starts as soon as the tributes are here. For now, I’m not doing anything… Yet.” Lucky Flickerman laughs.

“Well… I believe this is going to be a heated road. Don’t you think so? OH-, forget about her opinion, no one cares. THE TRIBUTES ARE HERE!” You turn behind to look. The vehicle opened its doors and the tributes fell. But you have to move away from the cameras after seeing a red uniform of the Academy. What the hell was Coriolanus doing there?

He doesn’t notice you yet. But you are able to see him talking with the girl. You see Lucy Gray Baird in person for the first time. She’s very pretty, short as you and her dress is very pretty. That’s not the problem though. You don’t like the way Coriolanus leans to whisper to her something, then he pulls the rose on his uniform and pins it behind her ear. Hearing Lucky Flickerman calling them, the couple holds hands, and they start answering questions.

It’s just for the views. It’s just to win that damn prize. Relax… You can trust him.

When Lucy Gray starts talking with a girl, Coriolanus spots you. You can’t decipher his look, but he knows for sure you aren’t pleased. Your hands making fists against the fabric on your wide dressing pants.

As soon as the cameras are gone, you go on a straight line towards him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He drops the songbird’s hand, looking seriously taken aback.

“I told you I was meeting my tribute” Lucy Gray looks intrigued by your sudden appearance. Your moles, orange makeup, heavy golden earrings and perfectly painted lips. You’re perfect.

“This is embarrassing. What are my parents going to think? This could get you into trouble, Coriolanus” he sighs. Takes your hand through the giant cage but you whisk away, looking very angry.

“I’m sorry. This is just… too much.” He will talk to you later, he knows you’re head is spinning. Probably the rose and taking the songbird’s hand wasn’t a good idea.

“This is Lucy Gray…” he introduces the girl. And you finally acknowledge her. You give her a fake smile, just trying to look calm and be polite. She only stares.

“Nice to meet you. I’m sorry this is the way were meeting” she looks proud, like the fact that you look gorgeous, and she had just been thrown into an animal cage wasn’t humbling for her.

“Aren’t you in charge of making this a good show? Like putting us here like we were some kind of animals?” She must hate the Capitol. And it pisses you off the way she’s talking to you. A hostile tone in disguise.

“I’m only working for this to get more views and get into Univeristy. Where etiquette and manners are taught with much emphasis. But I’m not the one doing the rules” you respond colder, giving a little hint that Lucy Gray needed to be refined. After that, you proceed to ignore her again.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get your back with Highbottom if anything happens” you whisper to the blonde, and before he can say anything you leave. You exchange some words with Flickerman and the camera production before leaving with them.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Lucy Gray asks. Coriolanus turns to see her.

“That’s my girlfriend.” His confirmation slightly surprised the girl. You seemed very… Capitol. Like the perfect match for him.

“She’s very pretty.” He wants to chuckle, but he only nods. In his mind, he wasn’t sure if Lucy gray meant it or if she was just trying to be sarcastic. Either way he doesn’t care much.

You’re perfect.

…

In your room, only the gentle morning breeze can be heard. You look at the balcony, looking at the mountains that surrounded the Capitol. It was summer, soon after fall began, the white would cover the city.

There’s a knock on your door and when you turn to see who it is, there is your mother.

“How did Coriolanus end up with the tributes?” You look away, already feeling ashamed.

“I don’t know, mother. He was supposed to meet the tribute at the train station. I don’t know how he ended up there…”

“It was a… messy entrance. But he seemed to have charmed the cameras on his favor. Don’t you think so?” Your mother liked your boyfriend, but sometimes she thought he had some secrets hidden, and that made you set some alarms. Probably because only, you knew about his financial problems.

“As it was expected. How do you think I felt when everyone knew he is my boyfriend? It was embarrassing.” She giggles, stepping inside of your room. Grabbing your perfectly ironed Academy uniform and accommodating the sleeves.

“I didn’t like the way he… forced that interaction with the girl.” You admit in a quiet tone.

“They were holding hands. He tucked his rose on her ear.” Your blood boils at the memory, making you groan in discontent.

“Yes.” You confirm to her.

“You’re jealous. And you shouldn’t be… Coriolanus loves you. Why would he even turn to look down at a dirty and disheveled girl from District 12? When he has you, a gorgeous and already successful young woman. Who’s capitol to his luck.” You smile. But the uncomfortable omen would have you spinning until the games were over.

“You can’t let any feelings get in the way of your task, my dear.” Says your father appearing at the door. You just stare at him.

“Let the boy play along the untidy girl for now. It will help to raise the views and create dubiety. You will complete your duty and that will make you memorable. As a daughter of mine and your mother we want you to exceed our accomplishments, this would be the first step. As soon as you make it, all the doors will be open for you. And the boy will be eating from the palm of your hand.” You know that’s not how it works, but he is right. As much as you wanted your boyfriend to win the games. You had to think on your own for the first time.

“You’re right.” Your dad smiles, only entering the room to leave a kiss on your head. Silently telling you how proud he is of you.

“Good. Now put some makeup and the uniform.” You nod at your mom, replying at her smile but feeling slightly empty on the inside.

…

Once again you have zoned out.

Coriolanus sees the way you are lost in your thoughts. As Dean Highbottom and Dr. Gaul are slightly debating after he was almost penalized for the zoo events, the gossip between the students doesn’t flush away easily.

You were quiet since that day. Same kisses, same smile, and same giggles. But the sudden lack of communication and sex was worrying Coriolanus.

Then Arachne died. Clemensia hadn’t been on class for some days. You weren’t around to see, but the news made you feel weird. Coriolanus was getting obsessed with the songbird, but that didn’t mean he was leaving aside… yet.

He had heard and seen how most of the student's made fun of you and your task for the Hunger Games. Saying that you had been put on that position for your parents. Very much like what everyone thought of Sejanus Plinth on daily basis. It made you feel anxious, that guilt only increasing. And unfortunately, Coriolanus hadn’t been around to soothe those fears.

“Are you sure you’re okay, y/n?” He asks once for all. You seem to hear him, but before you can answer him. Gaul had made everyone go quiet.

“Has a decision been made, Miss. y/l/n?” You raise your head, looking at the woman and slowly you nod, standing up.

“A decision has been made with the council of the games and the production team. The mentors and their tributes have to make a strategy, it’s obligatory. The mentors have to make detailed research on the district of their tribute. In two days, the research must be submitted so the tributes can be guaranteed an interview before the games. Only that way, the sponsors will come and by the end of the games, the mentors will be honored in the post-games' celebration.” The more you talked, the more the students seemed to hate you. Coriolanus can only think that you’re doing it because of rage, and he isn’t unsure if he likes it or not.

Dr. Gaul wants to laugh, believing you had shut everyone’s mouth. She can see a female enraged lover can react when cards are played against her. And she is savoring the way her Hunger Games are making everyone fight for their own good, not only the tributes.

When class is over, you don’t wait for Coriolanus. You just start grabbing your stuff and decide to leave.

He has to hurry so he can follow your pace. He calls your name once, but until his hand gently grabs your forearm, you stop.

“What is going on?” He asks, ignoring that both of you are in the middle of a hallway.

“About what?” There’s a lot to say, but you just can’t seem to be able to respond.

He sighs, and looking around, he drags you to an empty room. Open to public, but perfect for some minutes of privacy.

“You can talk to me…”

“I know… It’s just…” he inspects your face, looking at any details to try to understand you.

“Just what, sweets?”

“There’s too much going on at the same time. I’m just stressed out. I’m sorry for being distant, Coryo” you refuse to admit you’re jealous, that you are following your father’s advice, that you are sick of everything.

“It’ll be over in three more days or so. Then you know what departs for us…” you nod as he leans to close the distance, your foreheads touching. It was Coriolanus silent way of saying I love you and I’m here. So you take the moment to treasure it.

“Just one thing, Coryo…”

“Yes, dear?” He asks on your lips.

“If things get tricky… Are you going to fight for me if needed?” He smiles, your lips trembling against his chin.

“I would walk the whole territory of Panem just to get you, y/n” and with that, he kisses you so hard that it makes you remember why you choose him.

And why you would always choose him.

…

It’s late in the night and you opted to stay for late rehearsals. Your nails are a mess as you had anxiously been biting them. You see a burgundy spot on the right side of your pointe shoe. Your feet are bleeding. But that doesn’t compare to the waves of chills you had every day.

“AGAIN!” Your instructor yells. You are the opening act for the celebration. Every district would have a dance and some mentors would have an honorific mention. However, yours was a delicate piece of ballet. The music was beautiful, but it made you feel little, very vulnerable.

You try every single time, but your instructor kept saying that you needed to look sadder by the end.

“Miss y/n?…” your mother’s assistant came to the door of the studio, making you stop and your instructor to pause the music.

“Your mother has informed to me that there was a rebel bombing on the games’ arena earlier. The tributes were there with their mentors.” Your heart stops, remembering Coriolanus and his own task of taking the songbird there.

“Your partner, Mr. Snow… he was injured…”

Half an hour later, you’re entering the hospital. The wide room is empty. At the end of the bed’s row, you see Tigris and Sejanus. The young woman being the first to notice you.

“Y/N!” She hurries to hug you and offer her jacket since it was slightly cold. And you were once again in your ballet attire, pointe shoes still on.

“It’s okay. But… How is him?”

“Stable. Just his back was compromised” Sejanus reveals, making you smile sadly. Coriolanus is sleeping. His forehead looks sweaty, and you can only attempt to brush some of his curls.

“They said it was a rebel attack. The president’s son was heavily injured” you sigh.

“Felix?” Sejanus nods at you.

“This is where I side with the Capitol.”

“Exactly. This isn’t the solution” neither of you say out loud. But Sejanus was a rebel sympathizer, Tigris was only against the capitol but not with the rebels. And you were a neutral.

“I just hope this doesn’t come with long term injuries…” you finally add. Under the curious look of Tigris, she feels bad for you. Although she offered her help, there wasn’t much she could do. Only to design the attires for the upcoming celebration. But other than that, she could feel the stress on you.

Only worsening when Coriolanus woke up.

“Is Lucy Gray fine?” You act like it didn’t hurt you. And both Tigris and Sejanus pretend they didn’t see your sad face.

“She’s fine.”

“How do you feel?” You ask, and Coriolanus finally sees you.

“My shoulder and back hurt” the tv ends up disconcerting everyone. When you turn there is a video of you being played with the logo of the Capitol behind you. Coriolanus wants to smile, but he’s too unsure of what’s happening to say you looked adorable in a tulle skirt.

[Citizens of Panem, welcome back. We are less than 24 hours away from the start of the 10th Hunger Games. To make the wait less painful, we are about to explore about this year’s tributes. We’ll get to know them in this section. For the first time, we are about to see an exclusive series of interviews with our lovely host; Lucky Flickerman. Now, it’s turn of of the final district, which is District 12. Do not forget that anyone can be a sponsor. Enjoy the show!]

You ignore the looks. You weren’t proud of yourself for filming that type of promos. But that is quickly forgotten after Lucy Gray was introduced and she started singing again. You have to roll your eyes. You have to bite your tongue after seeing the way Coriolanus literally jumped out of the bed to see the songbird closely.

He seemed hypnotized by her. And without even processing there are tears forming on your eyes.

The end is coming. The end is coming. Get ready…

You try to ignore your head. But it’s like a prolonged free fall. Since the moment of the Reaping Ceremony, you knew it.

That bad omen was something you should’ve payed more attention to.

Now you let some tears fall as you see it. Tigris is also crying, and you have to admit how wonderful Lucy Gray Baird is. But it leads you to question.

How could Coriolanus just be… losing you?

When you look down at your feet, your brain can pay attention to the damage, immediately releasing a lot of pain.

Your pointe shoes are almost soaked in blood. You quickly seat in one of the bed, hurrying to untie it. Your heart beats faster. With the sudden increase of negativity, you feel panicked.

And it scares you, because you feel like you don’t have enough control.

Sejanus is the first one to look away.

“Oh my god, y/n” he knees in front of you. Looking at the mess. Now that the pointe shoes are gone, the damage is more than visible.

Tigris follows and finally Coriolanus remembers you. He seats beside you, frowning in disgust as he sees the pointe shoes covered in dry blood. Then your feet, you try to stop the bleeding, cleaning it, sobbing in silent.

You feel his hand on your shoulder. But you ignore him. You feel hurt by everyone. Your parents, the Capitol, and Coriolanus especially.

You squirm away from him.

“I’m just trying to soothe you.” Coriolanus admits in shock after seeing your reaction.

“I can handle it on my own” you spit out crying quietly, cleaning the tears with a hand, while the other holds some gazes against the wounded skin.

“We’ll bring a nurse” Tigris says, grabbing Sejanus and walking out of the room.

For the first time, Coriolanus knows something is going wrong. He officially sees how things are getting tricky.

Only you would know that your tears were for your boyfriend rather than the blood soaking your feet.

He was losing you. And later that night, he sealed the faith of your love for him after visiting Lucy Gray in the zoo one last time.

…

When the 10th Hunger Games started, you were making sudden apparitions at the camera. Coriolanus was focused on Lucy Gray moving through the arena. And you were too invested on following all the procedures. After some hours, a lot of people had left. Coriolanus was growing tired. He started eyeing you out, he saw your lilac makeup that matched your sweater. He saw the way your hips and waist looked in a pencil skirt.

After some failed attempts to make you look at him, he made eye contact. And minutes later, both of you ended up having a quick fuck in the restroom. Somehow it had worked as a makeup, he made you smile before you had to leave again. He kissed you and he promised to himself that no more mistakes were allowed. He would win the games with Lucy Gray and then… only eyes for you.

Things took a turn after Sejanus meant to give a proper goodbye to his tribute and old friend.

Coriolanus had killed a tribute. You are still unable to comprehend how you feel about it. He had come to your house during the night, red eyes and disheveled uniform. You wrapped your arms around him, shushing him to not disturb your parents.

He told you everything as you prepared the tub for him. He cried on your shoulder and stayed there for hours.

“You are good, Coriolanus. You are a good man. This doesn’t make you a monster…” you had said.

“What about the power I felt?…” you knew that was a warning sign.

“In the Hunger Games’ arena anything feels like power, my love” it was supposed to be enough to make him avoid thinking on power and death at the same time.

And now, adding the fact that he seemed to have built a connection with the songbird, you were everything but calm.

Nonetheless, that night you hold him protectively. You assure him everything would be fine.

“I would be lost without you” Coriolanus says, his nose pressed against your chest.

“I help the people I love, Coryo. That’s how will always be…” he reminds himself, no more errors. He holds tighter at you, knowing he had already messed up his promise one night ago.

…

You run, ignoring the pain of your wounded feet. The nurse said to take it easy if you wanted to dance after the games.

But you can’t help it. Coriolanus had won. While you ignored Lucy Gray Baird as the victor, you acknowledged your boyfriend as it. You run faster than Tigris, so you get to hug him before kissing him. He replies immediately. Holding your waist and smiling like an idiot. Everyone was looking and cheering around but neither of you cared. He deepened the kiss, feeling peace, he knew he had won. He had a good future secured. Along you.

“You did it, my love” you say in his lips, giggling. He also smiles, taking your hand before going to find Tigris who stayed back.

“You also did it.” He speaks. Making you realize it’s over.

And for the rest of the day, you are happy. You leave early because of the celebration.

You really want to stay with Coriolanus. But he was called away. Tigris stays with you the whole day. She calls Grandma’am as soon as you both enter the theater where the celebration was being held.

Both of you give the elder woman all details. She really cries and says she can’t wait to see his boy coming home that night. She wishes you good luck and the call is over.

“Okay. Let’s get over with this so we can celebrate with some posca tonight.” You laugh, taking a seat on the vanity.

“Coryo hates posca, Tigris.” She also laughs.

“If he can pretend to like it for formal events, he can pretend at home for his win and yours.” Between laughs and jokes, she starts to help you with makeup and hair.

An hour later, you start receiving good luck flowers and notice of being on the stage in fifteen minutes.

“You look perfect, y/n” she says smiling, making you turn around to see the pastel tutu and flower corset of the attire.

“I can’t breathe but this will make my shoulders look so aligned…” you thank her and after good luck wishes and a hug, she excuses herself to go to her seat.

Now alone, you make sure the makeup is perfect. Until you see Coriolanus in the door frame. He enters and closes the door. He looks so lost and sad, which worries you.

“I cheated on the games” you frown, hurrying to get to him. He sits on the couch, head between his legs, notifying to you how serious the issue is.

“What did you do?” He explains how he cheated. He kept it secret. He didn’t tell you.

“Is there a punishment or penalty?” He nods, looking at you now.

“Exile. Serve as a peacekeeper for twenty years” you look shocked. Your heart stops and you lean to grab his shoulders.

“I’ll go with you. University can wait. I’ll find a job where you’re sent to. And work with my mother at the same time. We’ll send money to Tigris and Grandma’am and-“

“No, y/n. I can’t let you do this.” You start to feel panicked again. You need to hear a solution.

“So what? You’re just leaving like that?” He remains quiet.

“You said you would fight for me.” He thinks about possibilities. He could marry you as soon as training was over. You two could find a little house, live there and send money to his family like you said. You already said you were willing to leave the Capitol for him.

“Oh, Coryo. Why did you had to do this?” He sighs frustrated.

“To win. For my family. For you… to give you all I promised.” You are at the verge of crying. And he has to be honest. If you were going to leave everything for him. He would be honest.

“I kissed her.”

You can only hear your heartbeat after that.

You don’t say anything for some seconds. His hands are sweating.

Something stronger than silence fills the room. You slap him.

Your hand burns afterwards. But the damage is done.

“Get. Out.” You spit out, quietly, yet extremely filled with poison.

He’s too shocked to say something back.

You are mentally collapsing. Finally feeling betrayed and mocked by him.

“You won’t get out? I will…” it’s bad when you start hearing a pitch in your ears. You know it’s not a good sign. But you’re so traumatized, that you lean closer to him.

“You’re a mistake… Such a big lie.” The last memory he sees before you have disappeared is the layers of tulle of your tutu, your perfume of jasmine and the sound of your distant sobs.

If he had lost you. His last memory of you would be dancing.

He stares from the backstage. And he wonders if destiny wanted you to dance such a melancholic song. Because he can literally see your sadness. You look so fragile that he curses himself. Maybe if he had mentored another district. Or maybe if he just had decided to shut up and avoid mentioning the kiss to you.

Did he ever love you? Why wasn’t enough?

However, that’s not enough suffering. While your head was spinning with many thoughts, the rest of your body was pleading you to stop. But you keep dancing. You feel the music and you let yourself to give the most emotional presentation of the history of Panem.

You don’t realize you have captured the same effect as Lucy Gray Baird singing. There are people crying. Throwing flowers at you. You don’t see it; you’re starting to see everything blurred.

As you leave the stage, people congratulate you. Coriolanus sees you look pale, darkened lips. You stop hearing, only the annoying pitch. Every step feels heavier than the last one. The sudden nausea makes you give up.

Coriolanus sees how you faint. Your body collapsing to the floor.

“Get a doctor… GET A DOCTOR, PLEASE!” He yells at a girl who was also in a tutu. She nods in shock, running. Some people gather, but only Coriolanus is there holding your unconscious body.

…

“I’m so sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. I wished so many things for us.” Coriolanus is crying. Holding your hand as you are asleep on a hospital bed. Your diagnosis said you suffered a collapse due to stress and traumatic experience. He knew it was caused by him. But he lies to your mother, saying it must’ve been for the pressure of the games and the death of Arachne Crane.

“I’m not a good man. And you deserve someone better than me…” he can now see the purple under your lashes, eye bags and cracked lips.

“But I’m coming back for you.”

After memorizing your image sleeping and kissing your forehead, he quietly leaves.

Your mother enters his line of vision.

“Coriolanus. Are you coming tomorrow? She’ll likely be awake” he swallows the rest of his tears and shakes his head.

“Unfortunately. I have peacekeeper duty away from the Capitol, required for me to get into university.”

“Oh no. Y/n knows, right?” He nods.

“But don’t worry, I’ll send her letters every week” it’s a promise. One he would make no matter what.

His hopes increase by the time he’s able to serve in District 12. Knowing he could give some closure to his situation with Lucy Gray but sickening because he’s also going there to soothe his urges to see his songbird again.

As for you. You just hope and pray your sole image to haunt Coriolanus Snow for the rest of his life. Because the moment you walked out of that hospital, you would do everything to get rid of him and his memory. Promising to make his mere existence the most insignificant matter. Even when you knew your heart would never beat again the same way it did for him.

______________________________________________________________________

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#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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lqveharrington · 5 months

Text

If Only | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer were bond through the soulmate system, but how could you be soulmates when he had Lilith?

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x fallen seraphim!reader

includes: kinda soulmate au? fluff, angst, mentions of death, lucifer feeling like a bad parent (that’s pretty much it, let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i wrote this at night the other day. toward the very end i was very proud of what i wrote 😭🙏 time for my requests i’ve gotten !!!

Ever since Lilith left Lucifer seven years ago, he never expected to meet another who made his heart soar. He fell into a deep state of depression and only started to get out more when Charlie invited him to stay at the hotel after the latest extermination. He got his own royal suite and joined in on Charlie’s lessons, but it still wasn’t enough to keep up with his daughter’s upbeat attitude every day.

It wasn’t enough to help pull him out of his depression until you came along to the hotel.

The moment you stepped into the hotel and greeted Charlie with the same enthusiasm made him smile. It was just another plus that you were a fallen angel, more so a fallen seraphim. And he swore that when you first met his gaze for that split second your eyes glowed pink as he felt his eyes do the same. He thought that would never happen again, but here he stood with an adoring face while you spoke to his daughter like you’ve known her since she was a child.

Soon enough, you and Lucifer were introduced to one another properly, the pink glow in both your eyes returning.

“It’s nice to meet the head man himself.” You grin as he kisses the back of your hand. “And such a gentleman as well.”

“What can I say? I’m quite the ladies' man.” He winked as he saw you burn bright.

As months passed since your first official interaction, you and Lucifer grew closer, bonding on your similar and different experiences. Whether you bonded over one of Charlie’s redemption activities or relaxed in his suite, you both found contentment in each other, letting each other enjoy the company.

“You know, I’m not going to relax when you keep tugging my book away.” You grab his wrist as he reaches for the book for the nth time in thirty minutes. “I’m going to leave your room.”

“Please don’t.” He tugged you closer to his side, head resting on your shoulder. “I don’t want to move from this spot again.”

You tilt your head toward him, eyes glowing a faint pink. “Then let me read.” You let a small smile slip through when he grumbled an incoherent sentence.

Lucifer’s eyes softened when you returned to read your book, watching your eyes scan the words in front of you. His mind and heart racing a million miles per hour whenever you were around. He couldn’t decide what was right. Was his heart telling him to move on? Or was it just aching to be affectionate with another?

The signs were pointing in different ways, but surely the answer was right in front of him. He just had to understand what it was before the magic between you two would fully disappear.

“Staring is highly distracting, Luce.” Your eyes flit up to meet him again. “I can’t focus.”

“You must really like me then.” He gave you a cocky grin

You roll your eyes, shutting the book. “You’ve ruined the book for me. I’m never going to finish that book now.”

“That book wasn’t good anyways.” He brought the comforter up and over the both of you. He locked his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his front. You felt yourself loosen up by his touch, letting out a small breath of exhaustion. “I’m spent after all the bonding activities today, beautiful. I think we can skip our kitchen run tonight and just go to bed.”

“Were you really waiting for me to finish reading so we could sleep?” You murmur as you feel him nod. You let out a small laugh, “Wow, I would have never stooped so low.”

Lucifer shushed you, “I’m sleeping, good night.”

A soft smile takes over your burning face, turning in his arms to face him. “Good night, Luce.”

He didn’t say anything else but quietly played with your hair, listening to your steady breathing as sleep consumed you. Lucifer always made sure you fell asleep first, wanting you to get a good night's sleep before he did. Yet, he didn’t exactly know when you both went from friends to whatever this was, but he wasn’t complaining if he got to see you sleep in his arms every once in a while.

And it wasn’t like Lucifer was the only one to notice your unusual relationship with one another. You noticed it as well. From the soft touches to the sleepovers at his suite, you knew it was more than just a simple friendship. But what could you do when he still wore his wedding ring?

“What’s happening?” You lay your legs across Lucifer’s lap, taking a glance at the news channel cast upon his suite’s television.

Lucifer rubbed your calf, golden ring a cold contrast to his warm fingers. “They’re interviewing Charlie for her hotel. They know how the extermination happened this year, so I’m hoping the questions are more targeted toward how her hotel will work than how it was fighting angels.”

You frown at the feel of his ring, even more so when he mentions the death of angels. “What happened the last time they interviewed her?”

He scoffed, “They were so rude to her. I mean, I understand we’re in Hell, but she’s their fucking princess. They only brought down her ideas, not asking enough about how she intends to accomplish redemption. I wish I could have done something back then, you know? Show them why I’m the King of Hell.”

You reach across to link a hand with his, giving him a small smile when he meets your glowing pink eyes that match his pair. “Luce, you’re a wonderful parent. I know you want to protect your daughter, but it’s in the past. She knows you love her and look at you two now! You’re supporting her dreams and whatever lies in store for them.”

“Thank you…” He felt the golden ring become heavy on his finger, an uncomfortable weight that was never there appearing. “You’re not half bad of a parent yourself.”

“What?” You let out a confused laugh, thumbing his hand. “I’m not anyone’s parent.”

“Yeah, but—“ He gestured toward the television where they switched the camera toward Charlie before switching to a quick commercial break. “—You've been more of a mother to Charlie than her biological mother in one year. The second you stepped into this hotel, she lit up around you.” His downturned smile grew bigger when you tilted your head. “Charlie may be a very trusting person, but she knows when someone is going to support her with anything she accomplishes. You were one of those people.”

You feel yourself warm at the small confrontation, “I’m sure she thinks of me as any other resident at the hotel, Luce. Don’t boost my ego, you have enough for the both of us.”

“Hey now.” He squeezed your leg. “I’m being nice, and you’re just hurling insults at my face.”

“Me? Never.”

He continued to rub a small pattern, thoughts running back and forth before turning back to you. “I’m serious though. She really loves you… Almost as much as I do.”

Your eyes widened, meeting his eyes that were now glowing a much brighter pink than usual. “You… I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I admire you a lot, beautiful.” He confessed, confidence boosting his voice. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you, and not just because of your looks. You handled Charlie better than I did in the last seven years, and I couldn’t ask for a better person to let her be herself when I’m not around.”

Your eyes glowed brighter at his words, squeezing his hand. “Lucifer, I admire you as much as you love Charlie, but it’s a matter of soulmates versus those of the past.” You gesture toward his ring, pursing your lips at the sight. “Are you sure you’re truly ready to move on? From the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never taken that ring off.”

“I’m sure.” He let his hand holding yours drift up to cradle your cheek, snapping his finger to get rid of the ring and away in his back drawer. “She’s left me for almost a whole decade, I think I have the permission to move on.”

You melt into his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “If it’s what you really want, Luce.”

“It is.” He left a small kiss at your temple. “Because I know you’ll still be with me when all of Hell falls apart and all my magic is gone.”

“You’re so cheesy.” You lean back on the couch, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Will you officially be mine, Lucifer Morningstar?”

“Always, beautiful.” He kept your hands linked as he pressed a promise kiss to your ring finger. “Always.”

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reidmania · 2 months

Note

Reid dating a girl from the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders and she invited the team to come see them! Fluff 👉🏻👈🏻

STAR STRUCK | spencer reid

summary; reader is a chearleader and invites her boyfriend and his team to come watch her

warnings; literally nothing??? fem reader, cheerleader, this is just pure fluff.. the only real warning is me having no idea what im talking about

an ; im australian so i know nothing about the dallas cowboy cheerleaders so theres no mentions of teams or anything bc ion wanna get information wrong!!

“Holy crap theres so many people here” Spencer muttered looking over at Derek who was working his way through the crowd of people trying to find their way through the stadium. Spencer was almost tempted to grab onto the boys arm in order to make sure he didn’t get lost.

“Come on. Our seats are that way” Rossi said, pointing his finger in the direction of a staircase. Spencer knew they were in a secluded area for friends and family of the cheerleaders.

“Perks of having a fancy girlfriend” Emily nudged Spencer’s shoulder softly as she walked past him. Spencer smiled softly as he thought of you — he had been wanting to come watch you cheer for the longest time, unfortunately with work and cases getting in the way he wasn’t able till until today, when you had invited him and the team to come.

When they got to the door, they showed their tickets to the security guard who just nodded and let them through. His eyes widened slightly as he looked over the large room, glass windows allowing the perfect view.

There were tables upon tables of finger foods, charcuterie board lined up with fruits and cold meats — crackers, everything and anything. There was also a bar, which immediately got Derek’s attention.

“Oh this is stunning” JJ admired as she looked over the room, bouncing beside Emily who shared the same look of admiration. Spencer spent little time looking at the room, instead looking out the window looking for any sight of you possible — despite knowing you wouldn’t be out yet.

“This place is amazing!” Rossi nodded as he brought over a beer from where he had been standing at the bar, Derek followed after him.

“Pretty boy, tell your girlfriend she can invite us anytime, this is amazing.” He gushed slightly as he sipped the large glass of beer, hand patting against Spencer’s shoulder.

Spencer just smiled, “I think she’d like that actually” He said, looking at Derek for a moment before returning his gaze to outside the glass, not wanting to accidentally miss you.

They found good seats, getting comfortable but Spencer was leant forward — he knew any minute you would be out there, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off you.

Like he thought, the lights of the stadium dimmed a little before there were voices over the speakers introducing your cheer team. His eyes widened as people began cartwheeling and flipping their way out.

The minute his eyes fell on you, they stayed in place, never once leaving the way you flipped or smiled widely. He swore he could feel his heart palpitating when he made eye contact with you and you gave him that smile, the one that was reserved for him and only him.

“Oh shes good good” Emily muttered, poking Spencer’s arm teasingly. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull his eyes away for a split second as she spoke.

He nodded, eyes trapped on you filled with nothing less than pure admiration and love — everyone could see it. There was a certain glint in his eyes.

“Shes amazing.” He said quietly, almost a whisper.

“whipped” Derek muttered under his breath but passed off as a cough, only causing Spencer to raise his hand, flipping Derek off without even having to look at him.

“Spence!” He turned on his heels the minute he heard his favourite voice — yours. He and the team had walked down to the lower level on the floor after you sent him a message asking him to. He had spent the last few minutes looking around not quite sure where to go or where to find you.

Your face lit up entirely when he looked at you and it made his heart swarm, you were running towards him and there was merely seconds before his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, hoisting you up to spin you around.

“Hi!” You smiled, when he finally placed you back on the ground, hands staying on your waist. your face had a slight red tint and you were positive you were sweating, but to Spencer you looked stunning.

“Hi” He smiled back, the same look on his face as he raising one hand to brush hairs out of your eyes. “You were amazing, absolutely amazing.” He said, leaning down to place a quick gentle kiss on your lips before pulling away — he wasn’t one for pda, but he couldn’t help it when he was so insanely impressed by you.

“You enjoyed it?” You asked, your voice full of happiness and hope as you searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie on an exaggeration, but there was nothing but pure generosity and love in his eyes.

“We all did” Rossi said, before Spencer could reply. You pulled your eyes away from Spencer to look at the rest of the team, a wide smile on your face as you untangled yourself from Spencers arms to hug each of them.

“Thank you for coming” You said genuinely as you stepped back after hugging each of them and saying hi, the minute you stepped back, Spencer’s arms rewrapped around your waist from behind as he ducked down to rest his chin on your shoulders, you leant into his touch without a second thought.

“It was our pleasure. You all were amazing — you especially.” JJ said, smiling widely at you. You smiled back as your cheeks flushed at the compliment, “Thank you.”

“And it was fun watching Pretty boy here look all loved up” Derek mentioned, making your smile only grow impossibly wider.

“I’ve never seen him so quiet, I was expecting him to be spitting a hundred different cheerleading satistics every five minutes but he was just starstruck” Emily nodded as she spoke, smiling teasingly between you and Spencer.

You tilted your head to look up at Spencer who was already looking at you, cheeks flushed pink at all his friends teasing him on the spot. “Really?” You asked, a smile on your lips — it refused to leave.

He just hummed, smiling down at you as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“You really were amazing”

#criminal minds #criminal minds show #criminal minds x reader #criminalmindsfans #spencer criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #wattpad #criminal minds one shot

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hees-mine · 3 months

Text

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, stepson, stepmom, dirty talk, taboo relationship, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral, cum eating, cursing, mommy kink-ish, no plot.

Genre: 18+, step relationship, taboo. Not proofread.

WC: 3,534k

⟱⟱⟱

A lie is what you’d be telling if you said you didn’t think about feeling your stepson again the moment your eyes opened in the morning, but you were quick to push those thoughts far back to the recesses of your mind, hoping that they would never come forth again.

Even though the night spent with him was nothing short of mind blowing you had to do your best to forget it cause you couldn’t do that with him again especially after the guilt you felt when your husband came to bed last night.

Guilt.

Now, that was something you and heeseung didn’t have in common. What you did have in common was that you both most certainly enjoyed last night.

Fuck does he remember last night? It was so good that it’d be hard to forget, and what would he have to feel guilty for after fucking every single last one of your precious little holes.

Speaking of, he can’t decide which one he likes more. All of them brought him immense pleasure, so much pleasure that at ten in the morning, he’s as hard as a brick just thinking of you, but he’d just have to feel each of them again before he could really decide.

You’d already sent your husband off for the day with his lunch, and now you were busy cooking breakfast for yourself and, obviously, your stepson.

Who was now standing at the end of the stairs greeting you in nothing but his pajamas, and the large print between his legs was hard to miss. You clenched your thighs at the sight of your pussy already missing him. “Morning, Mommy,” he chuckled tiredly, slithering into the kitchen, and before you can even calm yourself, he’s got his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, his cheek pressed to your shoulder, and his groin nestled right against you. “Hmm,” he moans from the contact on his sensitive leaky tip.

You gasp, the feeling of him shocking you back to your senses. The knife you were using to cut fruit falls on the counter, and you flatten your palms, bracing yourself against the kitchen island.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbles as you go stiff in his hold. “You’re not gonna greet your stepson?” He pushes forward, leaving you no space, and now you’re trapped between the counter and his body just like yesterday, and just like yesterday, you feel the restraint quickly leaving your body.

How could you have any restraint when his dick was so hard against you and so close to where you needed him most.

Last night you told yourself never again would you let your stepson fuck you, but that was last night when he was in his room far away from you. That was when he wasn’t standing behind you shirtless that’s when his dick wasn’t nuzzled right up against your ass.

“H-heeseung, stop,” you tell him feebly, your voice trembling, and you would never willingly admit that you were already leaking for him.

“You really want me to?” He sneaks his hands under your sleepwear, cupping your breasts and squeezing them with his large hands. “Tell me again, and I will” he rolls his hips tracing the crease of your perfect ass with his long dick. “Just want you to be sure, that’s all.”

You do your best to hold in your whimpers. If you were being honest, you really wanted him to slip your sleep shorts off and take you from behind right then and there in the kitchen, but for a split second, you had an ounce of rationality. “S-stop,” you said with a shaky breath. “Y-you should take a shower. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“No,” he whines in protest but quickly obeys. “Fine, I’ll do as you say, Mommy.” You feel the warmth leave your back as he creates enough distance between you two, and for the first time since you saw him today, you feel like you can actually breathe.

“Looks good,” he spanks your bottom, and the sound echoes in the quiet kitchen. He grabs an orange slice and holds it to his mouth, slurping the juices provocatively; the scene looked all too familiar to the way he ate you out last night. You glued your eyes on him while he stared at you, flicking his tongue on the center of the orange and then sucking on just like he did your clit. “Tastes good, too,” he smirks at your dazed expression, walking past you to the trash bin to throw the peel in the garbage, purposefully brushing himself against you on his way upstairs.

Once he left, you stood there for a good minute. You tried to grab your knife to resume making breakfast, but your hands were literally shaking with need, and the guilt you once felt was pushed to the back of your mind as you climbed upstairs in search of your one and only stepson.

You knocked on the door right in the middle of him getting undressed, and him being him, didn’t think twice before answering the door fully nude, his cock still very much hard. He was going to take care of his problem himself, but now you’re standing outside the door, and you definitely look like a better option than his right hand.

He smiled, happy to see you standing there and shamelessly looking at his dick.

Your eyes are glued onto the one thing you need inside you the most. Your brows furrow together at the sight of your thighs shaking and your hole clenching around nothing, dripping with sticky arousal.

“Did you need som-“You step forward into the bathroom and, without a thought, slam the door shut before dropping to your knees in front of him and taking his stiff shaft in your hand, gently pumping it up and down. “Oh shit,” he groans. Your actions caught him totally off guard. He had to brace himself with his right hand against the bathroom sink. “I guess so,” he smirked down at you and placed his hand on top of your head, smoothing over your hair.

You’re too ashamed to respond, so instead, you put your mouth to use elsewhere and lap at his sticky tip, tasting the salty precum that oozed from it.

A taste you had already become addicted to.

You hungrily take more than half of him in your mouth, sucking his cock desperately.

The little sounds you made when his tip hit the back of your throat made his cock twitch, and you loved the feeling of his heavy length resting on your tongue as you gagged and slobbered all over his shaft.

He must have really got you worked in the kitchen for you to be sucking him off so eagerly like this. It has barely been a few minutes, and he could feel the need to cum. “You suck it like you need it, baby” he tilts his head to the side, lips pursed, as he gently bucks his hips and helps you take him impossibly deep.

The sight of you both in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he looked in the mirror watching from a different angle how you sucked him off. You looked so fucking good on your knees. “Yes, Mommy, just like that fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth already,” he breathes deeply, trying to hold off and enjoy the feeling of your wet mouth just a little longer. “Oh!” He lets out a strained moan when you cradle his balls. “Fuck it feels so good” he throws his head back, his hips moving on their own as he lightly fucks your throat, getting lost in the pleasure.

You take deep, calculated breaths through your nose, never taking a break no matter how tired your jaw gets. The feel of him in your mouth was far too rewarding to stop from a little jaw soreness, especially with the way his needy moans were filling up the space of the bathroom. “Fuck” he groans out, abs tensing and sweat beading on his body. “I’m cumming” he holds his hips, still throbbing on your tongue as he releases his warm semen on your tastebuds. “Ah fuck oh shit,” he moans as the white creamy liquid trickles down your throat.

You moan in pleasure, the taste of him making your clit throb even harder with need. Your cunt was sore. That’s just how engorged it was, and you needed him so bad his mouth, his fingers, his cock, anything would suffice with the insatiable urge that was flowing through your veins right now. “Taste good?” He grins while gripping your chin and tilting your head up. You look so gorgeous with your mouth full of his cock.

“Yes,” you moan when he pulls out of your mouth, your lips swollen from taking his thick cock deep in your throat.

His eyes nearly roll back in his head at just the thought of bringing you pleasure and tasting your pussy. Without another word, he quickly joins you on the tile of the bathroom floor. “Up.” he holds your waist, helping you up and sitting you on the sink. “That’s it, Mommy.” he grabs the waist of your shorts, hooking his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts and yanking them off your hips with minimal effort.

He smiles as you spread your legs wide open for him, and it’s no secret what either of you wants. He places his hands on your knees, keeping you open for him as he presses his face in your cunt, inhaling your scent. “Hmm, smells so good.” he licks his lips. Just your scent has him getting hard all over again.

“Hee,” Throwing your head back, you whine, one hand on the sink, the other in his hair. He moans shamelessly as you call his name, his tongue falling out of his mouth and tracing the path of your swollen folds to your clit.

You sigh in pleasure when you get some type of relief from all the built-up tension down there.

He sucks nips and licks all over your vulva, covering it in a mixture of his spit and your juices that seem never-ending no matter how many times he gulps it down, but he doesn’t care. He could drink you forever.

“So good.” You massaged his scalp, and he looked at you, enjoying all the faces you made, from the small lip bites to the heavy sighs and labored breaths.

He closes his eyes, really devouring you now, nose rubbing your little clit as his tongue sinks inside your hole.

“Oh yes!” Your head cranes backward, your thighs tensing when you feel a certain pressure building slowly in your abdomen.

He flicks his tongue in and out, deliberately nudging your clit with his pointed nose, causing your toes to curl.

“Yeah? That feels good?” He spits on your core, licking it up and shoving it in your hole. Before it can leak out, he stuffs his tongue back in. You fucking it in and out.

“So fucking good,” you praise, and his cock is definitely fully hard now.

He feels your walls tighten, and he’s just waiting for you to cum all around his tongue. His wait isn’t too long, and before you know it, you're creaming on his warm tongue, giving him all the satisfaction of making you orgasm.

“Shit,” Your legs dangle over his shoulders, shaking and trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

Your moans grow louder the more intense the pleasure becomes, and he works his tongue carefully, giving you the most of your high without overstimulating you.

Your breath is uneven, and the tension is releasing from your body now that you got what you were craving so desperately.

He kisses your inner thighs and kneads the soft flesh.

You cup his cheeks, wiping the arousal from his chin, staring at his eyes with something more behind them.

Looking up at you, he sees the blown-out look in your eyes telling him exactly what you need.

He stands up, his knees aching slightly, but he can’t even be bothered right now, too distracted by the intense pulsing of his needy cock.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you towards him, his tip resting on your mound. “Been thinking about this pussy all morning” he rolls his hips painting your core with sticky strings of precum. His eyelids drop so low they’re barely even open.

You whimper, the sensitivity of your high making you feel him much more intensely.

He bites his lip, thrusting on your clit as if he was inside you. “Woke up harder than ever.” he lets out an airy laugh as you stare at him, your brows creasing, and you nibble on your lip, just waiting to feel him inside of you. “Feels so good.” he gives you a lazy smile and bends forward, kissing your forehead. The kiss is much softer and sweeter than what you two are about to do, and somehow, that settles the beating of your heart and braces you for what’s about to come.

You lift your hands from the sink stroking his toned chest, your other grabbing the base of his thick cock, covering him in your wetness. “Ah,” he moans softly, feeling much more sensitive from your touch than his own. “Please put it in, Mommy.” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you watching as you guide him inside you.

Shaky breaths are exchanged as he slips in you with one smooth glide, your hole stretched and ready to swallow up all his inches.

“Look at the way you suck me in” A low hum settles in his chest as he meets you halfway, thrusting his whole length inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs with the pleasurable stretch. “Fuck y/n” his mouth falls open from the way your silky walls feel wrapped so tightly around him.

“Hee,” whining his name, you can’t help but look into his eyes just to see him staring back at you, both of your expressions riddled with pleasure.

He pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, both of your bodies shuddering from the sensation. His cock slid in and out in a steady motion, your arousals mixing together, creating the dirtiest sounds and staining your pussy lips with creamy white.

“Faster.” You fall back against the wall mirror, and he holds you in place, going faster and deeper, so deep you can feel it in your stomach.

Your breasts jiggle with each one of his thrusts, and he stares at them, your perked nipples peeking through your shirt, looking so mesmerizing to his eyes. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking perfect” A chill runs up his spine every time his tip pushes past that little tight barrier on your opening, and he swears he sees stars. “It feels so fucking good.”

“Keep going” Your body shakes on the sink trusting him to hold you up, and he doesn’t even leave one doubt in your mind as his hold is firm on your waist, keeping you in place no matter how much you write and squirm on his dick. “Fuck yes, so good, so deep, mhhm” Your loud moans bounce off the walls, and your sounds entice him to go as hard as he possibly can.

“You like that, huh? You fucking want me so bad, don’t you?” You shake your head no despite you loving the way his inches fill you up. You know in your right mind you would never say yes to him. You were already committed to another man. You only wanted his dick, not him. “Is that so? Your cunt is saying otherwise, squeezing me so tight I can barely move” he digs his fingers into your skin, his hold on you growing harsher from the force he uses on your body. “Just look at you, spread open, taking it so good.”

“N-no,” you babble out despite rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“No? So why are you so wet, hmm? So tight,” he grunts, growing flushed with how much energy he exerts. “Fucking back on me like that.”

You grab onto his shoulders when it becomes too much for you, and he handles you with ease as your body goes limp, completely wrecked by his cock plugging in and out of you so fast and deep.

“See, Mommy? Knew you wanted it,” he smirks, going at an animalistic speed, his balls smacking your ass as his abdomen gets coated in a thin layer of your guy's mixed arousal.

“Oh heeseung!” You moan out loud, wrapping your arms around his neck as he plows you into oblivion.

“Yeah, say my name, Mommy, just like fucking that” he drags his hand down to play with your clit as you cling to him. You’re so so close.

“Yes, yes, yes fuck me,” you squeal out. You can’t help but say the words even though your mind is conflicted. You know it’s wrong to fuck your stepson, but you can’t stop cause it just feels way too good. You’ve never felt anyone like him before.

“Uh uh uh,” he grunts, giving you everything you need and so much more. “Cum on your stepson's dick, Mommy.”

His filthy words put you right on the edge, but you both stop immediately when you hear the front door shut downstairs. “Honey, I’m home early!” You hear your husband’s voice looking at heeseung with fear in your eyes, afraid of being caught, but he doesn’t seem to even care and begins to roll his hips, picking up the pace cause he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to come on his dick.

You shake your head back and forth. “N-no heeseung, what if he-” he cups your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“Shh, just let me make you feel good promise we won’t get caught” It was risky, and you knew it, but at this point, you needed to cum on his dick so bad that you’re not even sure if you’d stop if your husband walked right through that door and saw you getting absolutely pounded like a whore by his son.

He drops his hand from your mouth and kisses you to keep you quiet, his other one playing with your clit and winding up your orgasm again.

“Close,” you whimper, clenching around his cock repeatedly.

“I know I can feel you, baby. Keep squeezing on my cock. Keep going cum, and make a fucking mess on me. Mommy want it so bad,” he moans lowly into your mouth.

“Cum inside me,” you whisper to him in your lust-filled daze.

He whines into the kiss, obeying your command. “Yes, Mommy” With three more quick snaps of his hips, you come undone, moaning out loud, but he quickly muffles it with his mouth sloppily kissing you as he stills in your pussy. Those three words instantly made him shoot his thick, creamy load into your walls, filling you up to the absolute brim.

Moaning into each other's mouths, he stroked through your highs, so lost in pleasure and not the slightest bit worried about getting caught.

He leans back, smiling at your exhausted face, and slowly pulls out his load spilling from your pulsing hole and down your ass.

He bends down eagerly, licking it all up, cleaning every single last drop of your combined releases, and then pressing his lips to yours so you both can taste each other.

The taste is something that has you wanting more as you deepen the kiss and lick inside his mouth, not leaving one inch uncovered.

You both finally part for air, and he pats your thigh, grabbing some tissue to wipe you off with. He helps you stand and step back into your shorts while you adjust your shirt and run your fingers through your hair to make yourself presentable.

He peels the shower curtain back, smirking and getting in the shower like you told him to, and when you step out of the bathroom, your husband is standing right outside the door.

“Oh honey, I was looking for you,” he chuckles.

“Oh, I was just getting heeseung his towel. He left it in his room,” you quickly come up with a lie, trying your best to wipe the look of fear off your face with a nervous smile.

“Can’t that boy do anything on his own?” your husband sighs. “Well anyway, what’s for dinner? I’m hungry.”

You close the bathroom door and walk downstairs in front of your husband, discreetly rolling your eyes.

All he ever did was demand you make meals for him and talk down about his son which was admittedly very annoying he talks about his son not doing anything meanwhile all he does is work and laze about all day long waiting on you to do everything for him.

“I’m making your favorite.” You turn to him with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“Well, hurry up.”

You closed your eyes, releasing a deep, and maybe you didn’t feel that guilty after all for fucking his stepson more than just one time.

⟱⟱⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback🩵

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen lee heeseung smut #enhypen lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #enhypen hyung line #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic

704 notes · View notes

madhattervanessa · 3 months

Text

Crush

Summary: Your hot neighbor, Simon Riley, has returned from abroad again and this time, you decide to be brave and confess your feelings to him.

Warnings: Porn WITH Plot I guess lmao, some spanking, hair pulling, but nothing actually heavy, mutual masturbation, nipple play, fingering, p in v, creampie

Words: 3698

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

next Part

It’s absolutely stupid.

You twiddle your thumbs before planting both hands on the counter again.

Stupid.

Crushing on your neighbor? Forgivable.

Crushing on a hulking man like that, with those soft brown eyes, his stupidly beautiful blonde lashes around them, his deep baritone, his strong hands-

Totally forgivable.

Crushing on a military man who is barely home and barely talks to you?

That should be where the line starts.

Still.

Your cheeks warm immediately when you hear the familiar heavy footsteps coming down the hall towards your door.

Maybe the note had been stupid.

Oh god.

What if he thought it was stupid?

The knock on your door doesn’t leave you much room to think.

You do know him. So this shouldn’t be too awkward.

It’s just Simon.

So, you open the door, chin already tilted up to adjust to his height.

“Hello, love.”

“Hi”, you breathe out, already nervous.

“You mind if I come in?”

You step aside for him, eyes never leaving him as he gets inside.

He mutters a thanks, slowly making his way inside. When you shut the apartment door, he is already turning towards you.

“I-”, he starts and you look down to the scar splitting his lip when he licks over it. “-I didn’t know you uh-” he furrows his brows before starting over. “I like you like that as well.” He scratches the back of his neck and meets your eyes again. “Bloody childish way to say that, huh?”

You smile at him, suddenly feeling very warm and gooey inside, at the sight of this intimidating man looking like a boy talking to his school crush.

“I did leave a note so- I guess we’re kinda even on that.”

“Right.” He sighs.

“So… Coffee?”

“Yeah, that would be nice, I- I brought those croissants you like.”

“So you were coming to confess anyways?”, you tease. You win a little chuckle.

“Just a thank you for keeping the landlord off my ass, love.”

You hum and watch as he opens the door again.

“You comin’, then?”

“Yeah, just, one second. I got a new roast at the shop that you will like.”

“Alright. I’ll leave the door open.”

“Okay.”

He is looming over you as you switch out the beans in his grinder before you pull the espresso shots for your coffees.

“You alright?”, you murmur, not looking up as you fill the metal pitcher with milk.

“Yeah. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“I know you can handle a broken bone with a smile, Simon. The bar is in hell.”

He huffs. You glance at him to find him leaning against the corner of the kitchen counter, still watching you intently.

“So it is.”

You steam the milk for his latte in comfortable silence.

“Why me?”

You smile and set the pitcher down, briefly knocking some air out of the foam before you continue assembling your drinks.

You can hear the rest of the question he has in his head.

It’s not that Simon is a particularly nice man, nor was he in town for long since he had moved into the building 2 years ago.

“I’m pretty self-sufficient, you know.”

You’re met with silence again. He is watching your hands as you pour pretty patterns into the coffee.

“I like spending time with you when you’re here. I miss you when you leave.” You shrug, keeping your question of, is that not enough? to yourself.

“You know I’m not…” A good man. Enough. Loveable. Able to love anyone.

You’d heard the line often, especially on the veteran’s evenings in the small community you had amassed.

You just hum and turn around. You blow over the hot coffee in your hands and take a first sip.

Your eyes meet his again and just like with the grumpy, scared cat in the alley a street over, you blink slowly, trying to communicate that this is enough, it’s okay.

He pushes off the counter and carefully takes the cup out of your hands. He holds onto one of them as he sets the cup down on the counter behind you.

You are holding your breath, startled and hopeful as he stares down at you.

You don’t dare blink as he leans in closer, and just barely tilt your chin up to his. His hand feels clammy as it holds onto yours.

Your eyes close and you wait, your heartbeat quick in your chest as you feel his breath on your mouth.

Soft, dry lips meet yours in a peck, a shy press of lips against lips.

You inhale shakily through your nose and grip his hand harder as you pull back a little.

You wet your lips and carefully sneak another look.

Simon’s eyes are still closed and you watch, transfixed, as he rolls his lips, as if to taste you again, before he opens his eyes, too.

You grab his shirt and tug, silently demanding another.

He hums and dips his head for another kiss, this one more insistent.

You let your tongue lick over his lip. It makes him grunt and pull at you, forcing you on your tiptoes as you keep kissing, slowly working each other’s mouths open in an unhurried exchange.

When you part, you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s pretty.

His thin lips are slick and shiny with your combined spit, his brows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

“Can we fuck?”

You bite your lip at him, waiting for his answer as you watch the words wash over him. There’s just a minimal pulse of his pupils and a barely-there intake of breath.

“Thought I was going to take you out a few times, first.”

“I think the brunches and buying me coffee counts.”

“Tha’s different, love.”

“Is it?”

You fiddle with the hem of his shirt, still looking at him.

He doesn’t answer, just keeps looking.

“So, that’s a definite no?”, you murmur. He takes a deep breath.

“Let me ease into it.”

You smile at him and nod.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

His gaze lowers to your lips.

You stop yourself from leaning up towards him, simply tilting your chin up a little.

You wait for him to close the gap.

You don’t have to wait long.

He bumps into your chest with his, his head tilted as he kisses you again, carefully pecking at your lips with his, once, twice, then three times, before he licks your bottom lip.

The pressure makes you walk back a little until you bump against the kitchen counter.

His hand that has been holding yours moves to hold on to your hip instead. His other is moving your face to his liking. You let yourself be guided, losing yourself in the sensual kiss you share, the movement of your tongues against each other.

You let the hand that was holding on to his shirt wander up, over his hard stomach to his chest, until you reach his neck. You gently hold on to him, struggling to breathe before he finally pulls back again.

You’re panting slightly as you open your eyes again.

He groans, closing his eyes again and pushing his forehead to rest against yours.

“Fuck”, he murmurs, his nose nudging against yours, lips brushing slightly before he puts a little distance between the two of you.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Feels like you’re testing me.”

“I’m not. Just… letting you go as far as you like. I just-” You exhale shakily, looking at him, again. “I just want to be close to you, Simon.”

He nods and bends towards you to kiss you again. His hands wander down to your thighs. You gasp into his mouth as he lifts you onto the counter.

He steps forward, between your legs, before pulling you flush to him. You can feel him straining against his jeans, his hard cock pressing offensively against your sweatpant-covered center.

“Close ‘nough?”, he murmurs against your lips and you hum out a soft sound. You let your feet tangle behind his legs, urging him closer until he presses up hard against your clit.

“Mhm”, you moan. He looks at you, his breath stopped, before kissing you again- this time he’s rougher and the way his hips move up against you has you moaning into his mouth.

“I want you”, he groans, grinding his cock into you a little harder. “Want to do right by you.”

“Shut-”

He kisses you, again, silencing your protests. His hands are holding your hips, helping him grind against you. You are fisting the collar of his shirt, tugging him towards you as you nip at his bottom lip with your teeth.

He grunts and there’s an aborted moan that slips from his mouth into yours.

You grin and go to do it again but he holds you back by your throat, a gentle but warning touch. It makes you look up at him, mouth still open with a smile stretching your cheeks.

“Careful.”

“Or what?”

“You don’t want to get into a game of escalation with me, lovie”, he rumbles, his hand dropping. His thumb rasps over the seam of your pants and you gasp into his mouth.

“Don’t want to escalate just- mhn- just want you to stop treating me like glass, Simon.”

He hums and presses another short kiss to your lips before pushing his thumb down against your clit.

“‘m treating you like something precious, love, not like glass.” He watches, eyelids low as you strain against him, already dizzy with the pleasure shooting up your spine from watching him rut against your thigh while he slowly pleasures you through your thin sweatpants.

“I know you’re a tough birdie. Don’t ‘ave to prove it to me.”

“Don’t have to prove anything to me, either”, you challenge.

He grunts wordlessly before pulling you forward again, your ass almost slipping off of the counter. You hold on to his shoulders in shock as the room spins around you.

“Bedroom”, he just murmurs and you nod before cradling his head, and kissing him.

He only drops you when you have finally arrived in his bedroom.

It’s an awkward scramble once he has set you down.

You’ve just flung your panties off when he is on you again, his stubbled face rubbing against your chest. He scratches his teeth over your skin, following it up with a lick over it. He is smearing the width of his tongue up over your breast until he reaches your jaw. The filthy gesture makes you gasp.

He tastes the sound with his mouth, leaning down into you, his hands on the headboard behind you. You have to hook your legs over his thighs to make room for the hulking man.

He blocks out the window behind him and you can’t help but stare at him as he licks his lips before spitting in his hand. You follow his hand down to his cock and swallow hard as you watch him stroke himself, coating himself with spit.

“Want you to touch yourself”, he whispers, so quiet, yoou almost don’t hear him.

He tugs your hand down to his mouth. He doesn’t look away from your eyes as he pushes two of your fingers inside his mouth, then guides them down to lay atop your pussy.

“Show me what you like.”

Your gaze drops down to his cock and you start rubbing your clit without a single thought. He watches intently and you see his hand squeeze a little tighter around his cock.

“Simon.”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to play with my tits”, you breathe out.

“Fuck.” He stops stroking himself, immediately. “You want me to suck on your pretty tits, love? Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He leans in and licks at your nipple, his other, still slick hand, roughly grabs the other to let your nipple roll under his thumb. Your eyes roll back at the feeling.

It’s perfect.

You slide two of your fingers inside of your pussy and Simon does something magnificent with his tongue on your breast. It makes you cum- quick and easy. Simon stays right where he is, continuing to lick and suck at your nipples as you whine and ride out your orgasm.

You jump when one of his broad thumbs nudges against your clit.

“Simon-!”

“I want to see you cum again”, he groans. You barely lift your hand away from your pussy when he speaks up again. “Put your fingers back inside your wet little pussy.”

“Si-”

He groans and there’s that glint in his eye, like the one you saw when you bit his lip in the kitchen.

“Simon, I want you to fuck me, please.”

He lifts his thumb to his mouth, sucking your slick off of it.

You reach out to stroke his cock and he makes a small sound as you stroke him with your slick hand.

He presses closer. You guide his cock until the tip of it nudges your pussy.

“Wait, are you- don't we need a condom?”

“I have an IUD and I got tested last month, it’s fine”, you whisper.

You know Simon doesn’t fool around when he is away but he says it anyway.

“I want you to fuck me bare, Simon. Want you to come inside of me”, you add, your hand still stroking him.

He groans again and his hips rock forward. You gasp as he leans forward, covering you with his body. He moves you, angling your hips up before he pushes another inch inside.

His lips swallow your moan.

He is big- you saw, but now that he is pushing his hard cock inside of you, you feel like he is splitting you apart.

He stops halfway and you release a breath into the small space between your mouths. He gently strokes your hip and nudges his nose against yours before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

He rocks his hips back and forth, slowly pushing another few inches into you. It makes you gasp into his ear- the sound results in a strong thrust that rocks you up the mattress.

“Fuck, Simon-”

You look down to where he is fucking into you, hypnotized as he stops about halfway, every time.

He sits back, his eyes trained on you as he fucks into you a little harder. His hands wander over the sides of your body until he stops at your hips. He pulls you into his thrusts, fucking you hard but slow. It makes you mewl and you blush at the unfamiliar sound escaping you.

“Simon”, you whimper and he furrows his brow. “Come here”, you sigh.

He wraps his body around you, using his other arm to pull you closer. It pushes your tits up into reach for his mouth. You whimper and arch into him more as he greedily licks at your nipple again, repeating what he had done earlier.

He folds you up further until your thighs are completely resting on his waist, his legs basically underneath your ass. It makes him stroke against something delicious inside of you. You don’t even get to say anything before you��re already coming again.

And then, he starts to fuck you. It’s a chaotic shift, the way he suddenly starts using his grip on your hips as a counterweight to thrust into you, mercilessly giving you the rest of his cock.

You can hear how wet your pussy is and the way it parts for Simon as he fucks into you. The wet, rhythmic squelch seems embarrassingly loud in the room.

“Fuck, love- feel so good-”

You hear the sounds coming from your mouth as if they weren’t your own- hoarse, high-pitched mewls, breathy uh-uh-uh’s, as he ruts into you. When you clamp down on the meat of his shoulders with your nails, you hear him groan.

“That’s it-”

You’re overstimulated at this point but the friction is making you see stars in the best way. When Simon slows down, you sob with relief.

“Made a right mess, didn’t you, love”, he breathes, his own breathing barely stunted while yours is ragged. When he leans back, you open your eyes only to find your legs shaking without his waist to cling onto.

He ushers you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

You grumble, barely any strength in your body left to keep it tensed enough to follow him.

You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your nose pressed into his neck.

“You need to come-”, you slur.

“‘m letting you catch your breath first. Y’alright?”

“Yeah. Great, actually.”

He hums, obviously not believing you, and the suspicious sound makes you giggle.

You let your hands wander, admiring the broad plane of his chest, the scars crossing it.

He tilts your chin up to his again. His kiss is gentle, barely making your lips part. You can feel one of his hands stroking down your back until he can grasp one of your asscheeks in his hand, kneading the soft skin as he keeps kissing you. You gasp and bite at his bottom lip, smiling as you wait for his reaction- only for a loud smack to reverberate through the room. Your ass burns from his hand and you groan, pushing your forehead against his as you grind your cunt against his cock.

“You like that?”

“Yeah”, you breathe, chest already heaving from the excitement of making Simon use his strength against you. “, do it again.”

He growls and kisses you, his broad palm rubbing over your reddened ass cheek before smacking it again. You gasp into his mouth and lean in closer, rubbing your tits against his chest. Your whole body suddenly feels restless, your cunt rubbing up against his cock while your hands roam over his body, feeling up his arms, his shoulders, his chest.

Simon bodily hauls you up and pushes his cock inside you again. Your legs shake as you try to control how quickly you sink down on him.

Another smack to your skin makes you whimper and collapse onto him, his cock bottoming out inside of you. He grabs your thighs and you barely manage to lift yourself enough to start to ride his cock.

The sound Simon whimpers into your mouth as you roll your hips is worth ignoring the growing soreness in your muscles.

“Fuck, that feels good”, he groans. It makes liquid heat shoot through you and you double your efforts, folding your legs over his thighs. Your eyes snap open as he rests his forehead against your collarbone, his hands losing their tight grip on you.

You reach up to cup the back of his head, fisting his hair as you try to concentrate on setting a good rhythm for him. But the way his cock fills you out is starting to make you quiver, the pleasure already mounting up to being overstimulating again.

You’re gasping into each other’s open mouths as you ride him.

You can feel him tightening his grip on you before he starts to meet your thrusts, effectively bouncing you up and down in his lap. It makes you shake, the angle hitting something disastrous.

“Fuck, Simon- I can’t- I’m going to cum- a-again”, you whimper. It makes him moan into your mouth and you stutter in your motion as you feel him get even harder, his thrusts short, aborted. You mewl at the feeling and dig your nails into his scalp and his shoulder.

He growls and sinks his teeth into the skin of your breast as he cums. You clench around them and feel a few tears slip over your cheeks as the last few thrusts make you cum one final time.

You collapse into each other and you let your lips brush over his temple before resting your head on his shoulder again.

He is gently stroking your back, not even minding the sweat clinging to your skin.

When he wraps his other arm around your hip and lifts the two of you, you just sigh into his skin. He gently lays you down on his bed.

“Going to be right back, love,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss against your temple. You just sigh and nod.

As soon as he isn’t covering your body anymore, you can feel yourself shivering from the sudden cold. You huff before grabbing the comforter to cover yourself. The faint sound of a window cracking open makes you bury even deeper into the blankets.

“Hey. Eyes open for me”, he grumbles and you startle awake with a confused “huh?”.

Simon is sitting on the bed, holding out a glass.

“Drink something.”

You groan and bat at his hand but he just wraps it around the cool bottle of water.

“Brat”, he murmurs and you open one eye to glare at him before popping the lid open and gulping down some water. After handing him the leftovers, you watch as he immediately downs it all in one go. He sets the bottle down on the nightstand and just looks at you for a moment.

“Come on. Gotta go shower.”

You close your eye again.

“I’m cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm. Come on. Up.”

You go willingly into his arms.

He is still naked, still warm, and you sigh as you get up into his warm embrace. You stumble towards the shower together. He makes you check the temperature and adjusts it until it’s boiling hot and just to your liking.

When you return from your shower, the afternoon sun bathes the bedroom in warm light.

“You still want your coffee and croissant? Or d’you want to take a nap first, princess?”

You grab the shirt he'd discarded and throw it on before turning towards him.

“Maybe we can… do coffee and croissants on your couch?”

“Yeah, alright. You mind if we catch up on some shows I've missed out on?”

“I’ll probably fall asleep.”

“Alright love”, he murmurs, before pressing another kiss to your temple and wrapping his arm around your waist to lead you towards the couch. Halfway there, he just picks you up bridal style, letting your snuggle into his shoulder while he presses another kiss to your forehead.

Thanks for reading!

Requests are open and always appreciated

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #CoD

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slayfics · 4 months

Text

You tend to Katsuki.

1k words

You sat in the common room of the dorms making yourself busy at one of the tables studying. Absentmindedly you turned the pages of your book and scanned the materials, not actually digesting any of the information.

Secretly, you weren't concerned with studying. Your actual reason for hanging around the common room was to wait for Katsuki to come back. It was Saturday, which meant he was with Shoto at their supplemental classes to make up for not passing the provisional licensing exam.

Finally, after what seemed like too long, Katsuki came bursting through the door. An annoyed expression on his face as he turned to yell some obscenities back at Shoto.

Shoto followed him through the front door and Katsuki turned sharply away from him. It was apparent that Katsuki was eager to get away from the two-toned-haired boy.

Katsuki glanced over at you briefly but kept making his way through the common room. His cheek had a large bandage that was already turning crimson from whatever wound was on the other side.

You watched as the two boys split ways, Shoto made his way over to talk to Hanta and Katsuki vanished into the elevators to go up to his room.

You waited a moment before texting Katsuki.

[You]: That looks like a nasty cut. What happened?

[Katsuki]: I hate texting. Just come up.

You happily shut your book and rushed over to his dorm.

Knocking gently, you heard Katsuki's irritated yell on the other side, "Told ya already- just come in."

You opened the door and were met with the sight of him putting away the belongings he brought to the extra classes today. The bandage on his cheek being in better view, you could see that it was in desperate need of being tended to.

"That looks even worse up close," You stated.

"Tch- It's not even a big deal," he replied, downplaying the injury.

"How did it happen?" You asked.

Katsuki grunted as he finished putting away his stuff and sat down on the edge of his bed, "Some dumb ass training where we couldn't use our quirks. What the fuck is the point of that?!" He said irritated.

"Sounds like your worst nightmare," you laughed trying to lighten his mood. You fixated your eyes back on the bandage and the blood stain that now soaked through. "Why don't you let me change that for you?" You offered.

"HAH? I can do that myself idiot," he said being stubborn.

"I know you can but- I need practice. Tending to wounds is a part of hero work too, right? So- let me practice on you," you suggested, hoping that excuse would change his mind.

Katsuki thought for a moment before shrugging his shoulders in agreement, "First aid is in the bathroom cabinet," he said gesturing to the bathroom.

You rummaged through his cabinet to find another bandage and antiseptic ointment. "I don't think I've ever done this for someone else before," you stated as you came back into the room and sat next to him on the bed.

"It isn't hard," Katsuki huffed. Resting his elbows on his thighs as he kept his gaze straight forward giving you better access to his cheek.

You scooted closer and crossed your legs onto the bed to tend to his wound. "These classes have really been a pain for you, hu?" You asked, gently peeling away the soiled badge on his cheek.

Katsuki clicked his tongue annoyed by your comment, "It's nothing I can't handle!" He barked, eyebrows furrowed, and nose scrunched.

You giggled at his response, "Such a tough guy," you teased and squeezed some of the antiseptic ointment onto your finger. "You know- it can be both things. Something you can handle and a pain at the same time."

Katsuki opened his mouth ready to make another snarky comment when your finger met his wound. Any snide remark he had ready, vanished at the gentle way your finger grazed over his cut. Eyebrows softened, and shoulders dropped he let out a sigh.

The ointment stung, but he wasn't focused on that at all. Instead, he was focused on the way his heart rate increased the second you made contact with him. He hated it- but wanted more at the same time.

"What? Going speechless on me now?" You asked teasing his sudden muteness. You prepared the new bandage and got it ready to place over his wound.

"No," he grunted, voice lower than before. Another moment passed before he spoke, "The classes are a pain. God dam Icy Hot gets on my nerves. Acting like we're friends now just because we're in these shitty classes together. He makes everything a hundred times worse." Katsuki explained as you gently pressed the new bandage on to his cheek.

You smiled at Katsuki's honesty and decided to tease him further. "Wait- you mean he isn't your best friend? That's strange he's been telling everyone that."

"The fuck? Are you serious?" Katsuki asked, turning to you, his eyes catching yours. Noticing for the first time how close you really were to him, his cheeks flushed.

You smiled and a giggle escaped you. Immediately he recognized the amusement on your face. If it was anyone else, he'd blow a fuse but- with you, he was distracted by the way your smile lit up your eyes and the way your laughter forced him to smile too.

"Tch- brat. Don't mess with me like that," he said and playfully shoved your shoulder, causing you to laugh even harder.

"I'm sorry- I couldn't help it," you said in between giggles.

If you weren't laughing so hard maybe you would have noticed the soft smile Katsuki had or the way his cheeks warmed slightly.

"Whatever-," he said brushing off his emotions. "You eat yet?" He asked.

"Nope," you answered laughter subsiding.

"Good- let's go downstairs I'll make us something." He offered.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99

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norrizzandpia · 6 months

Note

i think this would suit lando but you being down and lando comes over later at night and takes you the park like two little kids, i can just imagine lando being a big kid at the park lmao

I’m going to need someone to love me like the fictional lando i write abt 24/7

We Can Be Kids For Right Now (LN4)

Summary: When her week has tried to suffocate her, Lando turns up at her door and forces her to remember just how worthy she truly is.

Warnings: mentions of heavy anxiety attacks, anxiety in general, language

Note: a draft bc im wrecked rn from this trip im on im so tried lol… I hate that I have to start saying this but I do not condone the reposting of my work without proper crediting or permission. If you wish to post my works elsewhere, it needs to be ran by me first by messages over Tumblr. If found that you have taken my works without my knowledge, I will report you and get my posts taken down from your blog.

Y/n never truly realized she did it until Lando, but when the man started to get close to her, he brought it to her attention that she so easily isolated herself when she started struggling. Even the smallest inconvenience and she shut down, something that irritated the hell out of Lando. Nevertheless, he loved her and the way she dealt with her emotions was something he knew she just needed to work on.

However, the problem they couldn’t get past was her ability to tell him when she was struggling. There were only so many times when he could see it written all over her face.

His comments urging her to open up to him when she was having a hard time dealing with it on her own bounced around in her head as she clutched her phone in her hands, his contact picture brightening her screen. His smile beamed back at her, almost coaxing her into tapping the call button, but her thumb hesitated. It wasn’t that she was afraid of telling him, it was that she was uncomfortable with her own emotions. Uncomfortable of leaning into them. Growing up, she was never given that ability, her parents not having the full capacity to address them head on. She never thought it truly affected her until Lando. She started realizing that he never gave her a problem to be scared, but she still was.

Her thumb had a mind of its own, though. Thankfully. And the ringing tone met her ears before she could even know what was happening. His picking up happened before she could even begin to think about hanging up the phone.

“Baby!” His cheery voice rang through the quiet room and warmed her tender heart. “What’s up? Why are you up so late? Do you want a sweet treat again?” He giggled, his TV pausing in the background.

She was silent. Her mind raced as she tried to make the split second decision of telling him or not. Though, in her silence, he began formulating an answer.

“Y/n…” He whispered, blankets rustling as she imagined him sitting up on his couch.

“Lan,” She said brokenly, albeit with an effort of trying to sound strong.

Keys rustling and his rushed, “I’m on my way, baby,” were her response.

—

Lando knew where the spare key was. It was one of the first things he asked the location of after they first said I love you. Y/n would always laugh at that memory. What she was expecting after the three words were shared was a small kiss or a hug maybe, but no, he had asked her where her spare key was. When she showed him and he very clearly took a mental note of it, she asked him what was so important about it.

“I’m your boyfriend and we’re in love. I should know where the spare key is, baby.” He had said to her so nonchalantly, as if it was societally normal to have that thought process. She just shook her head at him and took the kiss she wanted for herself. He wasn’t going to do it anyway, too entranced in the image of her spare key under her doormat. He was shenanigans bundled into one person. She loved it.

His rapping on the door pulled her from her memories. She drudged over, taking a deep breath before opening the door. He stood there in his pajamas, puffer coat thrown over haphazardly, and stared at her sympathetically. He shuffled in, arm rounding around her shoulders as he kissed her head, “Hard day?”

She sighed, “Hard week.”

He led her to the couch. The layout of her apartment was memorized in his head. “What happened?”

“I just-” She picked at her fingernails and the anxiety she usually felt when Lando asked about her worries began bubbling up. Maybe it was growth, but she thought he’s already here, isn’t he? Might as well lean on him.

So, she did. Literally and figuratively.

Lando squeezed her body as her side laid on his and she started reliving the low moments of the past few days. “Everything has gone wrong this week. I just can’t seem to win and I can’t make anyone happy.”

Tears filled her eyes and a frown appeared on her face. She cried into his shoulder when he pushed her body further into it.

Lando sat with her for a moment, rubbing her back. “That’s not true, Y/n. You make a lot of people happy. You make me really happy.”

For some reason, his comment shot fear through her body and she pulled from him. Her eyes looked anywhere other than his and the irrational idea of an expectation Lando had set for her that she did not believe in herself to meet took control of whatever plan she had to open up to him.

Lando saw it in her eyes, how distant they got. He knew this was bound to happen. It had been too easy. She had opened up to him without that much restraint and he expected a moment to come where her walls rebuilt themselves.

He just wanted her to let him in.

His hands took her face, “You deserve me. You will not let me down. You could never let me down.” He said, knowing exactly what was running through her mind.

“Y/n, look at me.” He tilted his head to meet her eyes and forced her to keep his stare, “I love you. That will never change.”

She cried harder, “I can’t even open up to you, Lan. I’m not even a good employee at a job I’m overqualified for. Yesterday, I handed in that presentation to my boss that I had been working on for weeks and when I presented it to the board of all fucking people, there was a grammatical error on one of the slides. I had confused ‘your’ and ‘you are’, Lan. It was embarrassing. They laughed and joked about it after. I can’t even fucking do my job. And I upset my mum on Wednesday. I hung up on her during an argument and now she isn’t talking to me. I’m being condemned, Lan. I can’t fucking breathe. My dad’s texting me, telling me how disrespectful I had been, but nobody hears about the parts where she called me an irresponsible adult and ridiculed me for taking a job that didn’t make me that much. Nobody wants to hear my side of the story, the part where she was so grossly unsupportive. Then, I had to cancel on Cameron on Tuesday again because I’m so fucking tired and so fucking busy. She got mad at me and now we’re in this fight because I’ve neglected our friendship. I’m a shit friend, a shit daughter, a shit worker, and it’s so obvious I’m a shit girlfriend. I can’t fucking do anything right.”

By the end of her rant, she was breathless and Lando could see she was talking herself into an anxiety attack. Her hurtful words toward herself needed to be dealt with, but he needed to stop the panic seeping into her skin.

He took her hand and kissed her head, “Come with me, my love.”

She kept crying as he led her to his car, his arm wrapped around her body securely as he whispered words of reassurance in her ear. He reminded her of how strong she was, of how much he loved her and admired her for everything she was. How wrong she was about everything she had convinced herself of.

When he softly laid her in the passenger seat, he kneeled down and kissed her shoulder, brushing her hair off the skin lightly. He looked up at her with deep green eyes filled with safety, “Don’t listen to your mind right now, baby. It’s only telling you lies.”

He lightly closed the door, running around the car to slip into the driver’s seat. When he turned the engine on, his hand settled on her thigh and began rubbing softly. He backed down and drove down the road, toward a small park at the end of her street. It was quick, maybe a minute or two, and Y/n was still crying when they parked, but it subsided momentarily when she saw where they were.

“Why are we at the park?” Lando grabbed her hand and kissed the knuckles.

He laid his cheek down on the back of her palm, murmuring, “Because it’ll be fun to be kids for right now. Not have to think about what you’re going through. We can address that later.”

A sigh of relief left her chest. The moment he had given her an opportunity to run away from it all, even for a few minutes, she almost began to feel as though she would find peace.

He always knew exactly what to do.

She gathered herself, wiping away the tears and smoothing down her hair as Lando walked back to her door, opening it and offering his hand as help for her to get out of the car. She took it. She always would. The cold air hit her body and she shivered. Lando was immediate in offering her his coat.

She shook her head, “No, I’m okay for right now.” She was just now realizing how she hadn’t gone outside in days. The cold air made her feel alive again.

Lando’s hand continued to clutch hers as they took steps toward the large structure. When she let go of his, he tensed, but he relaxed when he saw her wandering over to the slides.

She climbed up the ladder, him following behind, and found herself sat in the entryway of the whirling slide.

“Wait, wait!” Lando yelped before she could push herself down. Her head whipped around to meet his eyes.

She smiled and her body warmed when his found a seat behind her, his body consuming her and his hands wrapping around the low point of her waist. His ear right beside her ear, he kissed the top of the skin, “Now, you can go. We can go down faster, no? Seeing as I go fast for a living.”

His questionable logic made her laugh before he was pushing them off and the two were turning fast around the corner of the yellow tube. Her giggling ensued with the way he jostled them around on purpose to make the slide more exhilarating for two twenty-four year olds. And in the heat of the moment, seeing her hair float in the air and a carefree smile on her face, Lando wished she could see herself the way he did. She was superb, unbelievable. She held the strength and courage of someone so commendable. She was kind even when she had seen things and experienced trauma so young that should’ve, understandably so, made her bitter. She was merciful even when she shouldn’t be and she loved Lando in a way he had only ever dreamed of. The way she treated him, the gentleness she approached him with, was something he knew he could never let go of. She was beautiful in so many other ways than just her appearance. She was deeply beautiful and he wished she could just understand that.

When they reached the end, their bodies stopping abruptly right at the edge, Y/n laid her head back against his shoulder. He kissed her temple, “Fun?”

She nodded with a smile, “Somehow, you did make it faster.”

He shot her a look, as if to question why she didn’t believe him in the first place. He pushed her off him, sprinting to the swings and screaming for her to follow him.

“Lando! Be quiet! You’ll wake up the entire neighborhood!” She whisper-yelled at him, laughing as she ran after him.

He threw himself in the seat and began swinging his legs, no doubt gaining momentum but beckoning her over for help nonetheless.

She stood behind him, bracing herself firmly on the ground as she pushed his heavy body up off the ground. When he would meet her back on the ground, he’d lean back so his back would almost come crashing into her front. It made her laugh.

“Lando!” He couldn’t see her, but he knew how radiant she must’ve been looking. Even in his head, he continued to fall in love with her.

She kept pushing him until her arms got tired and she flopped away from him, onto the ground, in a heap of heavy breaths. When he didn’t feel her small hands on his back anymore, he jumped off the swing and joined her on the ground.

It didn’t matter how cold it was or how dirty it inevitably was, they were together and Y/n’s smile lingered on her pretty face.

Lando’s hand laced with hers in between their bodies as he softly whispered, “You’re not a shit daughter, your parents don’t know what they have and they’re too emotionally immature to realize that. You’re not a shit friend, Cameron knows that, you’re just struggling and that’s okay. You’re not a shit worker, you’re actually heavily valuable to your boss and the people around you. They’ve all told you that. And Y/n, look at me,” She turned her head to meet his meaningful ones, “You are not a shit girlfriend. You are the complete opposite. You are everything I’ve ever wanted and could ever ask for. You have no idea how in love with you I am. It’s even hard for me to understand sometimes. There is no one I have ever loved, love, or will love more than you. You are the most important thing to me, so please stop talking about yourself in this way and believing in something that has never been true.”

Everything about the moment is gentle. From the way his thumb caressed her skin to the enunciation of every word that came from his mouth, he made it clear how much love prospers for her within him every day and every minute.

She turned on her side and took his cheek in her hand, “Thank you for helping me, Lan.”

His hand squeezed her waist, “Of course, my love. You’re my favorite.”

She felt her heart blush, if that’s even possible. Maybe her face was the one blushing? She didn’t know. The way Lando looked at her as if she started life itself made her mind feel fuzzy.

Fuzzy enough to realize he was right. She wasn’t a failure or a horrible person. She was a human who made mistakes and many people loved her in spite of it. Lando being one of them.

He loved her in a way she had always craved. She both needed and wanted him. So did he. They were the beginning and end of everything for the other. It showed well that night as they held each other on the concrete of that park. It showed well because, at one am on a random Saturday, Lando had dropped everything he has doing the moment he heard the anguish in her voice. It showed well because Lando’s clear words made Y/n realize he wanted her and no one else. There was no one else like her, no one to ever replace her. Not that he would ever want that anyway. She was completely unique in the most precious way and maybe… just maybe… she was beginning to realize that too.

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

Text

clouded judgment / clear mind

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: it was a long time since Joel had felt a maddening rage like this, but he weren't about to let anyone who dares to hurt you get away with it (based on this ask)

Tags: Joel goes apeshit, angst, a bit of comfort at the end, established relationship, protective Joel (REALLY protective lmao), basically he goes feral

Warnings: uh. VERY graphic descriptions of violence (I'm not good at writing action sequences but it is graphic), swearing, kinda torturing 😬

Word count: 4.5K

A/N: this one was really challenging, but i hope yall will like what i came up with :) i really didn't expect it to be so difficult to write buuut i tried to focus on the "giving-his-brother-nightmares" side of Joel and i think i succeeded. anyway !!! happy reading ❤️

He should have never left you alone.

Which was a ridiculous thought, of course, because how are you supposed to patrol efficiently if the other person refuses to leave your side even for a moment? Besides, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you – he saw multiple times what you were capable of first-hand and he knew you were able to take care of yourself.

He put it forward once – to not split up and patrol the same area within the eyeshot of each other. You sent him a crooked smile at that, saying something about him being a little too overprotective before you gave him a kiss and went on your merry way, leaving him alone and slightly annoyed (but with a faint, stupid grin on his face).

So he tried to rein in this ‘overprotectiveness’ you mentioned. He never brought it up again, even though a cold shiver ran up his spine every time he lost sight of you beyond the safe walls of Jackson. Each time you two went on a patrol, he had to take a second to calm down and remind himself this is not one of his dreams when he loses you.

That’s why at first, when he heard your voice screaming his name from a distance, he wasn’t sure if it was really happening.

The instinct, however, kicked in the next second and he rushed back to where he saw you last, to the interior of a resort around which he was scouting. This was supposed to be one of the safest options for patrolling – no one ever saw any signs of life here besides occasional infected, and Joel was never that worried when you went inside alone to check the place.

He had a feeling his cautious (he really didn’t want to call it ‘overprotective’) nature was gonna become a nuisance again after this incident.

The goddamn downpour outside made listening for any noises aggravatingly difficult. Joel yelled for you, but he didn’t hear any answer and the driving rain beating against the windows of the resort absorbed all the sounds.

He made his way inside the building and up the stairs when he noticed your hat lying discarded against the wall. A wave of ice-cold dread washed over him. The stairway was dark but even with the little light he had he could see a couple of wet, almost black droplets on the dirty floor.

What he felt next reminded him of falling asleep – his shoulders relaxed and from head to toe a cool, silent equilibrium crept over him. Joel gripped his rifle firmly and pushed on soundlessly. It didn’t seem like you were stabbed or shot – there would be much more blood present – but you were hurt. Someone must’ve laid in wait to ambush you, and now…

It didn’t matter. Whoever it was, they made a grave mistake.

Joel reached the second floor, listening intently for any clues as to where you might be or how many people are in the building with him, but he didn’t even have to check the rooms one by one. A faint light, which couldn't have been left by the previous patrol, was spilling out from underneath the doors at the far end of the corridor . He did consider the possibility that it was a decoy and your attacker was hiding in one of the other rooms, but the closer he got to the sliver of light on the dusty floor, and the more doors he passed, it became clear that whoever got you, they weren’t that cunning.

And then he heard it. A sound of a blow from the other side of the door, and then a strangled cry.

It was you. Your voice.

Joel took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and kicked the door open, bursting into the room with his rifle held high – only to find himself surrounded by six men, five of whom were holding him at gunpoint.

The sixth one, a ragged-looking blond, stood over you and the second he saw Joel, he grabbed you by the hair and pressed a knife against your neck, making both you and Joel freeze.

“You’re from this town nearby, right?” asked the man with a heavy accent Joel couldn’t place. “The one that fucking shoots off any newcomers.”

Joel didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at this man. All he could see was your bruised and battered face and the blood running freely from your – probably broken – nose and down your chin. You had a black eye and a split brow, but your gaze was sharp and alert when you looked back at him.

He felt like his insides were boiling.

“Hey, dickhead!” the leader of the group yelled, gripping your hair tighter and making you hiss in pain. “You deaf or something?”

Joel finally managed to take his eyes off you – your blood and your bruises, and the concealed fear on your face – and glared at the man standing over you. His jaw was clenched and nostrils flaring, but he quickly collected himself. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him when you were in danger.

He lifted his hands slowly, showing that he was no threat to them. The thug tilted his head at one of his friends.

“Put down your gun and slide it over.”

Joel watched you following his movements with your eyes as he carefully put his rifle down and kicked it in the direction of one of the men. The blond holding the knife nodded twice.

“Now. You two are from the town, aren’tcha?”

“Let her go,” said Joel, trying to remain calm and not use – quoting Ellie – his ‘asshole voice’. “Then we’ll talk.”

The man shook his head and chuckled.

“Oh, no, no.” He pressed the blade harder against your throat. “We have the upper hand here. You understand?”

The man was looking at him expectantly but Joel’s eyes were nailed on the trickle of blood now running down the column of your neck. He remembered kissing that same neck this morning and tickling it with his nose, and the thought of this fucking bastard cutting your soft skin and leaving such a mark on it made him feel like he was about to burst.

“Fine,” he ground out with his jaw set. He looked over at the leader of the group. “What do you want?”

Had any of them been smarter, they would have picked up a dangerous note in his voice. But just like he suspected, they weren’t that bright.

“You go back to your town and bring five more horses here,” said the blond. “And ammo. My buddy here,” he used his chin to point at another guy, standing behind Joel, “will tell you what kind. You try anything or come back with someone else, and I’ll slit her throat right open.”

“She will go get that shit for you and I will stay,” Joel negotiated strongly, but the leader of the group shook his head again.

“No. No way. You go and bring back everything we ask for, and I’ll let your little friend go.”

Joel’s eyes once again shifted to your form and something inside his chest twitched. You noticed it – of course you did, you were always able to read him like no one else – and tried to offer him a half smile.

“I’ll be fine, Joel,” you reassured him. “Nothing I haven’t–”

“Shut your trap!” The shorter man standing to your right yelled and raised his hand, making you flinch.

Joel could almost feel fire burning in his veins and through his skin, peeling it off his bones.

“Hey! There’s no need for that!” he said louder, taking a step forward, but the gang lifted their guns higher. He stopped and spread his arms wider. “I’ll get you the stuff you want. Just leave her alone.”

“You better hurry, then,” said the blond with a nasty smile, and Joel nodded while trying not to look too desperate. He looked at his friend. “Tell him what we need.”

Joel didn’t give a shit what they were saying – it was him who needed to think of something, and fast. He had a suspicion as to who these men were – he heard from Tommy about a larger group trying to gain entry to Jackson several times. Apparently they threatened the patrol which found them when they were denied permission to join their community. It was before Joel came to the small town for the first time with you and Ellie, but the word around was that any rogue group around this terrains wasn’t to be trusted.

And everything from the description Tommy gave him fit: ragged looks, traveling on foot, low on ammunition.

While one of the men listed what kind of guns they had and how much supplies they wanted, a motion in Joel’s field of vision caught his attention and his eyes darted to you – or more specifically, to your left hand.

You stared right back at him, moving your fingers slightly so the others didn’t notice.

N… O… A… M…

No ammo.

None? That’s probably why the one standing next to you wasn’t holding you at gunpoint but with a knife to the throat. The rest of them must’ve had their pistols drawn just for show. Joel had no idea how you figured it out, but a thought struck him and he surveyed the members of the group. He remembered which one held onto his rifle, but you were armed, too…

As if reading his mind, your fingers started to twitch again the second he looked back at you.

U... Left… B, E, H, I…

Suddenly the man to your right bowed over you again and punched you square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled with contempt and glared back at Joel. “No funny games, you hear me? You come back with a gun or anyone else, and I won’t hesitate to fucking kill her, man.”

Joel’s heart was pounding in his chest. All he could see was your face contorted in pain, all he could hear were your coughs and grunts.

Two of the men came forward – the one on his left had a loaded gun from what you managed to convey to him in sign language – and pushed him towards the exit. Joel shifted his icy stare at the man standing next to him, and then at the two situated near you.

They were all going to die.

When he gets back, he’s going to kill every one last of them, and he’s going to enjoy it immensely.

Joel sent you one last look before turning around and slowly walking out of the room with both men close behind, pointing their guns (and only one of them loaded) at him.

It was going to be alright. He had a stirring of a plan and when he comes back, maybe with Tommy or someone else…

You gasped and coughed again behind his back after the sound of another punch.

Joel came to a dead stop, not registering the gun barrel digging into his back, and he felt like his jaw was going to snap if he kept clenching it like that.

You murmured something he didn’t quite catch and Joel turned his head slightly just in time to see the short man kicking you in the ribs and your form lying on the wooden floor, spitting out blood…

“You think you’re so clever, huh? I swear to fucking god, if you pull something like that again…”

Joel didn’t even let the man finish.

In a split second he elbowed the man behind him, grabbing his hand holding the gun – the one they took from you – and shooting the blond standing over you. He fell backwards and the knife fell out of his grip. Taking out the guy Joel grappled with was embarrassingly easy, and once he had a good grip on the pistol belonging to you, he spun around to face the other thug with his gun, standing on the opposite side of the room.

The ragged man fired at him, but Joel didn’t even need to duck, for the bullet missed him by half a meter at least. The man was lying dead soon after, shot twice in the head, and the remaining three took out their weapons, ready for a fight.

None of them reached for Joel’s rifle, lying under their friend’s corpse.

“That’s even better,” he murmured to himself, unloading the gun and throwing it against the far wall.

If looks could kill, they’d already be lying on the ground and writhing in agony. But Joel was more than happy to do it himself. And with his bare hands.

He strode with confidence to the nearest man who swung a machete at him. Joel avoided the attack and pushed him back, quickly darting to the side and decking the other man coming at him.

A sharp pain ripped through his body from the back of his arm when the third thug cut through his clothes. Joel blocked the second strike and twisted the opponent's arm, applying so much pressure that the bone in the forearm snapped and the man’s scream pierced the air.

He lurched back to dodge the machete aimed at his neck and picked up a knife dropped by the previous guy. He surged forward, driving the blade into the thigh of his current attacker, which made the other man lose his balance. Their friend, the last one still unharmed, managed to punch Joel’s jaw, making something crack and reverberate inside his skull, but he only wiped the blood from his face.

When the last thug came closer, Joel used his own momentum and grabbed the back of his skull, bringing the guy's face down onto his own knee. After that his movements were practically automatic when he grabbed the dazed man from behind and broke his neck in a swift motion.

Breathing heavily, he made his way to the first man he knocked out and took your gun from, picking up the machete en route. That son of a bitch wasn’t even conscious, but it didn’t stop Joel from bringing the weapon down and through his head.

The next one was the bastard with the broken arm, but his screams quickly died away when he, too, received a deep and lethal wound from Joel – this time aimed at his chest, almost cutting it open.

Your yelp ripped through the roar of blood in his ears and Joel turned around just in time to see the blond he shot in the shoulder sitting on top of you, trying to stab you with his knife. You managed to dodge it and before that idiot could try again, Joel came up to you both, grabbed the man’s hair and all but threw him off of you and onto the floor.

The blond was still holding the weapon in his hand, but didn’t get another chance to use it – with all his strength Joel brought the heel of his heavy boot down on the injured man's fingers. The man screamed when the satisfying crunch of the bones in his hand breaking echoed throughout the room and Joel couldn't hide a smirk.

He deserved it. All of them deserved it.

He again saw before his eyes the way this motherfucker kicked you and how his friend threatened to cut your throat. Again he saw red.

“You piece of shit,” Joel whispered, still blinded by rage, and gave the man a taste of his own medicine by kicking him in the stomach as hard as he could. The bastard coughed and yelled in pain but it wasn’t enough.

Joel’s focus was sharp and clear when he stood over the battered and bleeding man, staring down at him with hatred. He thought the blond tried to say something – his lips were certainly moving – but he didn’t concern himself with any begging or threats the thug had to offer. Instead he gripped the front of his sweater and punched him in the jaw, letting the limp body fall to the floor and relishing in the sounds of his curses, his grunts of pain, his blood dripping onto the floor…

Not enough.

Joel did that several more times – grabbing the idiot’s clothes, hair, whatever – to pull him up and hit him in the jaw, temple, nose and wherever else his fist landed. The face of the man was bloodied and he was barely conscious at this point and still all Joel could see was the look of sadistic glee on this man's face after finding an excuse to hurt you.

Joel didn’t have much strength anymore, but he ignored the biting pain from the cut on his arm and the raw wounds on his bloody knuckles, and straddled the lying man. The survival instinct must've kicked in and the blond started to tussle, reaching with his not-broken fingers to Joel’s face, scratching his brow and cheek.

And just like the glee he saw in the thug’s eyes earlier, Joel was more than happy that he gave him an excuse – and an idea – how to hurt him more.

“I saw how you looked at her,” he said in a low tone to the unlucky man, holding his left arm in place with his knee and pressing his own thumb to that fucker's swollen eye. “You like hearin’ people screamin’ in pain? Because I just know this is going to bring me great joy.”

Blood was flowing from under Joel’s finger and down his hand when he gouged the blond’s eye out and the man was shrieking. He was writhing and struggling under Joel's weight, and his voice became guttural and hoarse soon after when the dark blood started to flood his mouth. Joel pulled his hand away, panting heavily, and soaked in the suffering of that bastard whose face now resembled a smashed, bloody goo.

Not enough.

It was unfortunate that the blond was the only one left Joel could take it out on, but he couldn’t find any compassion in himself at the moment. So he punched him again, staining the floor with the scumbug's blood.

And again.

“Joel.”

Joel turned around sharply, grasping the thug’s knife. He could still feel rage churning inside of him and he was breathing heavily, trying to contain the fury filling him without screaming out loud. His hands were covered in blood – not his – and he subconsciously knew that the man lying motionlessly under him was long since dead, his face completely destroyed, but he wished that son of a bitch was still alive so that he could feel the suffering Joel longed to inflict upon him.

Everything because he hurt you.

You…

The ringing in his ears stopped suddenly and the knife fell out of his hand when he ran up to where you were still lying on the floor. You were curled up on your side with your arms wrapped protectively around your stomach and your face twisted in pain.

Joel’s breathing got quicker, now for an entirely different reason, when he noticed that the cut on your neck was bigger than he originally thought, and still bleeding. Your face was bruised and he knew your whole torso will probably turn green and purple soon, too.

“Oh, babygirl,” he whispered tenderly, his trembling hands hovering above your body, but not touching it. “It’s…” It’s alright, he wanted to say. Or maybe, where does it hurt the most?

He had trouble finding his voice, though. In his fury he completely forgot that you were still here and in need of his help.

You took a deep breath and turned your head ever so slightly to look at him in the corner of your eye. A sad smile appeared on your face.

“Hi, Joel.”

Joel breathed in. Out. In again.

For fuck’s sake, what was he thinking?

He quickly wiped the blood of the people he killed on his pants and cursed at himself mentally.

“Hi, darlin’,” he murmured in response, focusing back on you. “You’re gonna be alright. How are you feeling?”

“I think I might have a broken rib or two,” you breathed while Joel pulled out a clean piece of cloth he carried in his jacket for cases like this one and pressed it against the cut on the side of your neck. You winced and he felt a pang of pain in his own chest.

“Can I check?”

You let go of your stomach with a strangled gasp. Joel started to gently feel your torso, trying to discern if he could feel any broken bones or signs of internal bleeding. He kept his touch as delicate as he could, not wanting to hurt you even more, or worse – scare you.

He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, though, no matter how much he tried to calm his breathing. He wished he could hold you as securely as he held his gun, with a quiet heart and sharp focus, but the fear of accidentally hurting you made his fingertips recoil at times.

Although you two knew each other for years now, you were never a witness to this cruel side of him. You knew about it, of course, of horrible things he’s done before he got to Boston and met you. A couple of times you even saw with your own eyes snippets of these primary emotions of fear or anger overtaking Joel’s mind and body.

But never like that. Never with such ferocity, hatred and satisfaction from hurting those who did the same to you.

He just really didn’t want you to be afraid of him. You were so precious to him and often he thought those brutal hands of his, which he knew were guilty of inflicting unimaginable pain and suffering, weren't worthy of touching someone who in his eyes was so delicate and pure.

But it never stopped you from seeking his touch, and although Joel could be stubborn and tough at times, he didn’t have it in himself to ever refuse you anything – even when he knew better.

That was always the case. His judgment and mind were clouded when it came to you.

“I don’t think anythin’ is broken,” he finally said in a quiet voice, cupping your cheek gingerly and turning your head to look at it better. “But the nose probably is. How did it happen?”

“They jumped out on me in the hallway,” you answered, not meeting his eyes while he gently touched the base of your nose. Then you looked to the window against which the still pouring rain was beating. “One of them punched me when I shouted for you. I thought you might have not heard me.”

“I heard you,” he murmured and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You came for me pretty quickly, so–”

“Not that. M’sorry you had to see… this.”

To that, you didn't say anything. Joel felt his heart clenching on itself and almost stopping from the wave of terror that washed over him.

His treacherous mind was rushing him to defend his actions or make excuses – because if he doesn’t, if it turns out you’re scared of him and the things he’s capable of…

You might leave him. And if you leave, Joel won’t survive that.

But he didn’t give in to those cruel thoughts and silenced the voice in his head.

“I’d do it again,” he said quietly, making you lift your head. “In a heartbeat. I’m really sorry you had to see that, darlin’, but I… just know I’d never hurt you. And if I can help it, no one else will either.”

“Hey.” Your knuckles brushed his cheek and you looked at him with sad eyes. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I know you did it to protect me.”

“I wanted them to suffer,” he continued as if you didn’t say anything, but at the same time he soaked in the feeling of your soft touch on his face. “I don’t know how much you saw–”

“Joel.” You sat up with a wince after interrupting him, and your gaze turned sharp. “Why are you telling me this?”

Even though the bloody, battered mess that he made of the blond man seemed to push itself into Joel’s field of vision, he refused to look away from you.

“‘Cause you need to know. I feel like I’d be lyin’ to you if I didn’t explain that it wasn’t an accident or a one-time thing,” he answered, his eyes flickering from your neck to your face, and down to his own stained hands. “Couldn’t think of anythin’ else after I saw you like that, on the ground and…”

“Listen to me.” You took his head firmly in your hands and your gaze was unwavering – like you wanted to make sure that your every word will reach the depths of his soul. “I’ll say it again: you don’t need to explain. I get why you did that. And don’t even think you’re gonna drive me away because of that.”

You knew him too well. Sometimes it was slightly annoying, sometimes even scary.

This time, however, it felt reassuring.

You looked to the side where the body of his last victim lay, and Joel grimaced, gently touching the edge of your jaw and tilting it back to him. “Don’t look,” he whispered, realizing with surprise, as well as a horrible lump in his throat, that he felt almost ashamed.

Your bright eyes met his again and he briefly wondered if your gaze always was so scrutinizing.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said sternly, like always knowing what was going on in his head. “I'm not, so stop thinking that.” You shook him by the arm a little and when he didn’t answer, the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a teasing manner. “I’ve seen you multiple times in the morning. I know you’re secretly a big softie.”

Joel really didn’t deserve this kind of kindness and understanding from you. That didn’t stop him from craving it, though.

He didn't say anything – just leaned in and kissed your cheek tenderly, lingering there for a moment but paying attention not to brush your nose. You exhaled and closed your eyes, your eyelashes tickling his skin, and he decided not to drag this conversation on any longer.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart. I’ll help you up.”

He stood up and held out his hand. It was rough and covered in blood, but even after you saw what he did to those men and heard their screams, you didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Joel,” you said gravely after standing up. There was no trace of your previous smile on your face. “If you were the one in danger, I’d do the same thing.”

You were looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer, and after a couple of seconds he nodded slightly. Apparently it was good enough for you, because you just squeezed his hand and tugged him after you and out of the room.

Joel didn’t know if he believed you.

But your words made him feel calmer and cleared his clouded mind nonetheless.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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