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thechaoticcheese · 16 hours ago

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TW: Numbness, Mentions of Bruises, Yelling, Waterboarding, Torture, Lack of Care for the Reader

Wrongfully Accused - Chapter 4 - The Truth

Gaz had followed his lover and Price until the interrogation room. He watched the two enter and he stopped. His mind pounded with thoughts and his heart screaming at him that something wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. He cursed underneath his breath before he turned back and stalked his way to the barracks. His mind was milling on who would frame the person he loved so much. There was just no way you could do something like this. And god damnit he was going to prove you innocent, or do his best trying. First things first, he has to see who knows. Soap was first. He was the closest, or at least his room was and he’d assumed that Ghost was probably still in the commons room, or somewhere farther away from Soap’s location. Gaz noticed his Scottish friend starting to make his way towards the interrogation rooms and he interacted with the Brit first. Soap seemed a bit disheveled, his brows furrowing and a concerned look plastered on his face. “Aye, Gaz, ya’know wha’ happened b’tween Price an’ Y/N? He took’em away in cuffs.” Soap sounded distressed, in a friend kind of way, worried about your safety and whatever conflict the Captain had with you. “Yeah. He suspects ‘em of bein’ the spy on the base.” Gaz said with slightly gritted teeth, the thought made his fist tighten. “I don’t believe ‘im.” “You don’t believe the Cap’n?” Soap sounded a tad surprised, knowing that Gaz and Price went on a majority of missions together when it was just a two man job. Though he also knew Gaz’s unwavering loyalty to people he heavily cared about. There must’ve been a war inside Gaz, but to Gaz, the answer was clear who was on top. “Not with this. Somethin’ is up. Imma talk to Ghost next. Can you get in contact with Laswell for me?” Gaz requested from Soap, who nodded. “Aye. You think Simon knows som’tin’?” The Scotsman asked curiously. “No tellin’. If not, I have a few more people to ask.” Gaz said, crossing his arms over his chest. His mind flashing back to the burn that was on your face. He shivered as he watched the nurse start to carve out your flesh and you just didn’t move. Soap’s gentle pat on his shoulder brought Gaz back, the mohawked man offering a comforting smile. “Good luck.” “You too.” With that, the two headed in opposite directions. Gaz had a look of determination on his face as he marched through the halls towards the commons room. His mind whirled with what he’d say when he saw Ghost. A lot of it was yelling, but he knew he’d have to approach his friend carefully. The thought of Ghost doing nothing hurt more than he thinks it should’ve. Maybe because the team was so tight knit, hearing that one of his good friends did nothing to help his significant other boiled his blood. When he reached the room, it looked like Ghost had just finished cleaning up the table. He was now standing by the sink, rubbing his thumb back and forth against the mug you were drinking from. His eyes locked onto it before they glanced over at Gaz, who was beelining it towards the taller male. “Gaz.” Ghost gruffly greeted the male before putting the cup gently in the sink. “I should hit you. Ya know.” Gaz greeted back with a growl, taking in a deep breath to calm down the anger that had been bubbling inside him as Ghost glanced a humorous look at the shorter male. While Gaz was known to jump to the extremes quite quickly, the glare Gaz was returning to the masked soldier told Ghost how much he was willing to back up the claim.

Ghost leaned onto the counter, hands gripping the edge as his fingers went into the sink, along with his gaze. It was as if he was ashamed for doing nothing, refusing to look Gaz in his eyes again, or at least for now. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. “My significant other is being tortured by Price, got burned in front of you and you did nothing, and you’re ‘sorry’?” Gaz practically lectured the older male before he took another deep breath closing his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists. He so wanted to drill Ghost’s head into the sink with one blow, but he had to keep things professional, as professional it was to yell at your friend in the commons room where people could see the two of you arguing.

“Yeah.” Ghost replied, his monotonous voice not changing. This was the closest that Gaz was going to get to a proper apology and he knew it. Though the thought of Ghost doing nothing to stop Price didn’t stop itching at his brain. “Did… Did you even try?” Gaz spoke softer, a soft crack in his voice. He tried to figure out what Ghost did. The silence spoke volumes as Ghost recalled the incident from earlier this morning. Gaz had never seen the bloke wince, but he did, making the shorter soldier wonder if Ghost watched you get burned. “No… Price…” Ghost was trying to speak, trying to explain the situation, but anything past the ‘No’, Gaz didn’t register. “You watched Price burn my partner and dragged them away and you didn’t do anything!” Gaz was ready to explode, his voice indicating that he was already there at such a loud tone. “They were hurt and you couldn’t stand up to Price to get them any bloody treatment! Did his accusation of them being the spy really change your mind that much?!” He continued to spit fire at the tall man. Ghost’s hands gripped tighter against the counter and sink. Gaz swore if he gripped it any tighter it would break. The masked man sharply turned to Gaz and jabbed his finger into his chest, making him stumble back a bit. Ghost being quick wasn’t unheard of, but that didn’t make it any less shocking when it happened. “I do not have a soft spot for traitors. If they are proven innocent I will apologize. Until then they are the enemy.” Ghost growled. The two were ready to fight there in the commons. It was just up to who would swing first. “What ‘appened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” Gaz growled back, the air thickening as he leaned into the masked man’s finger. He was challenging the taller bloke. Ghost’s brown eyes flashed in some sort of angry emotion before he sighed and moved away. While Gaz knew it wasn’t because Ghost wanted to back down, he knew that Ghost knew that it would be the best move at this point. If the taller man swung, the commons room would quickly turn into a battle ground, and that would just make everything worse. “Nothin’.” He replied in a quieter tone. Hearing the reply made Gaz chuckle softly, a quip at the tip of his tongue, but he reminded himself to stay calm. Or well, to cool down to not have a fight in the commons room. He already made Ghost get close to boiling over. “Fuckin’ right. Now follow it. I have Soap contactin’ Laswell. I need to ask Price who he got ‘is information from. Though I have a feelin’ it’s one of the blokes that came in with Y/N when they first star’ed to work here. You wanna see what you can find out?” Gaz suggested, his voice determined and calm, but that was a contrast to how he felt. He’d definitely would need a round with Ghost in the ring after all of this is over. He knew he would more than likely lose, but a chance to hone skills and hopefully make some blows, would be worth it.

“Yea. I’ll make ‘em talk.” Ghost responded standing up fully now. “Good. Imma go talk to Price then. Meet ya back here later.” Gaz said with a small smile, gently punching Ghost’s arm, “You awe me a round after this blows over.” Ghost only replied with a half-amused grunt before going to talk to the other three. Gaz felt good about himself, puffing out his chest slightly in a mini victory before pivoting back to the interrogation room. He paused at your barrack’s door. Gaz’s mind filled with apologies that he could only wish to tell you at the moment. Price had to be wrong in this situation. He usually wasn’t, but everyone slips up sometimes. Then he felt bad for lashing out at Ghost, knowing his real anger wasn't at him, nor Price, but the asshole who accused you of being the spy. Whoever it was had to be the one that’s sabotaging everything. He must’ve been there for quite some time because a hand touched his shoulder. He glanced over to see Price. He seemed slightly defeated and tired, but still angry. The blood on his gloves made Gaz want to shiver, but he held his stance. “Gaz. This… This is a ‘ard ask… But Imma need you in a few hours to ‘elp with interrogation’ Y/N-” “You fuckin’ crazy, mate?” Gaz interrupted his Captain, absolutely shocked at how easily Price let the obscene request leave his mouth. Though part of him noticed how Price winced, as if he had known what Gaz’s reaction would be. How long had the Captain been stewing on the question? “They’ll crack faster seeing that there’s no hope.” Price responded coldly. Then Gaz realized something. Price had completely put on his mission mask. One of those masks that isn’t seen, but it’s like a mental block so they could do their work. This was too hard for him to mentally handle and so he hid instead of asking questions. Gaz’s blood started to boil again, but he silently started to reason with himself. This would for sure hurt your relationship, but if you don’t do it, the others would do it just as roughly as Price. At least in this way he could make sure you don’t get it too rough and keep Price from dishing out harder punishments. Though he wasn’t going to agree without bargaining. “Aight… On two conditions.” Gaz said, Prices seemed a bit surprised. “One, you get yourself a nap, you look worse for wear. Two, you tell me who informed ya.” Price’s eyes narrowed at the Sergeant, clearly seeing the bargain, but being too tired to argue he nodded and huffed, “Nikolai… and fine. No more than two hours. In the meantime fetch me a bucket. When I wake up, fill it up with ice cold water.” Gaz nodded, and as soon as Price turned around and sulked to his room to sleep, he shivered. His mind raced. Nikolai? Nik? No… Nikolai wouldn’t… Was… Was it written? There was no way Nikolai could be the spy, everyone knew the Russian too well. Something was amiss.

Gaz quickly jogged to the commons room, or well, he tried. He almost sprinted in, looking for Soap or Ghost, his mind whirling. He spotted the two quietly conversing in the corner. Soap was in front of Ghost, pressed up against him, teasing the Brit with something or other. Gaz couldn’t entirely care what it was at this moment. He quickly headed over, watching as Ghost’s eyes went from Soap’s to his, nodding slightly in a silent greeting. Soap, seeing the nod, shifted away and turned towards Gaz with a big smile, blue eyes shining happily before he caught Gaz’s furrowed brows. The two men knew something went amiss in the plan, or unexpected at least. “We have a problem.” Gaz breathed out as soon as he had both of their attention. “The intel is from Nikolai.” “No fukin’ way.” Soap whispered out. “Yea… I’m wondering if someone forged his handwriting… As illegible as it is…” Gaz put forth his thoughts, Ghost nodded in agreement. “Do we know if he was ‘ere today, or recently?”

“No…” Ghost shook his head slightly, the mask above his eyes moving, no doubt furrowing his brows. “No, he couldn’t be. ‘im an’ Laswell have been on a mission the pas’ few days.” Soap interjected, his eyes narrowing, “We go’ a right proper rat.” He growled out.

Gaz’s fists tightened again, he wanted to find who it was and put them in the dirt now, “What else did you find out?” “Well, Laswell an’ Nik will be ova’ere as soon as they can… Mission complications… Laswell an’ Nik don’t think Y/N is the spy, though they did warn me that they’d lose all communication soon so we’ll have ta wait wit’ baited breath for their return.” “Fuck. Ghost?” “Only one I could find was Tree… Drunk out of ‘is mind. Not suitable for interrogation.” The Brit gruffly responded, anger hinted at the edge of his tone. “God damnit.” Gaz cursed under his breath, despite how much he craved to yell it. “So we have someone framing Nik, who in turn is framing Y/N, and until Nik comes back we’re sitting ducks…” “Aye…” Soap confirmed softly, offering a gently squeeze of Gaz’s shoulder. “We will ge’em out, don’ worry Gaz.” “Yeah but how soon?” He grumbled. Gaz wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to feel his fist hit whoever got you in this situation. For now, he had about an hour and a half to figure things out.

…

Now here he is. Gripping your hair and forcing you into the water that felt cold. He had iced it earlier, but then scrapped the ice and put some hotter water in so it wouldn’t be freezing like Price wanted. He wasn’t about to confront his Captain in these circumstances. He gently pulled your head out of the water as you gasped for air, spitting water out of your mouth as your lungs demanded air. “You gon’ talk now? Or are we gonna take it up a notch?” Price asked, his face getting close to yours as his eyes narrowed. You looked at Price through somewhat closed eyes. “Fuck off.” You manage to murmur out through your sore throat. “Dunk ‘em.”

…

It’s been weeks. You’re weaker than you’ve ever felt in your life. Between being beaten and starved, your will to even consider forgiving anyone on 141 was slipping. The last thread that you held onto tightly was Gaz’s. You wrapped his thread around your hand tightly until it started to cut your fingers, your blood making the thread slippery, each drop from when he’d hurt you. Eventually. He did stop coming. Your grip on his thread was slowly loosening. It had been 21 days, 3 weeks, since you were brought here. You’ve gone numb to so many things, Price’s words, the cold cement, the aches and pains in your body. The way Gaz would sneak you small rations. It hurt you. Having to be secretly fed and begging every single time Gaz had to leave you to not go.

Three weeks of being interrogated to the point that it didn’t matter what happened after this. You were resigning. You wouldn’t sue, though the thought has crossed your mind multiple times. Worst part is, you found who it was. Price just wouldn’t believe you. By day 15, you shut up. Not a word had left your mouth for 6 days. Gaz had been gone for a day and that’s when you found out. It was Quail. Fucking Tree. He let you in on all of his little secrets as he toyed with you, adding to the bruises that decorated your skin as he tried to ‘beat the information’ out of you. You hope he’d burn in hell. You now knew, or well, used to know what was happening. He planted a letter for Price, claiming it to be Nik, but due to the secrecy had to use newspaper clippings, and it was because he and Laswell found sensitive information on their mission about said spy. They just sent Tree to collect it after they sent it to a burner address that everyone knew of, it was just his day to check it. And Price fell for the bait. You couldn’t say a damn thing about their plans though. If you did, you’d be the spy, but if you didn’t, you’d be a traitor after being proven innocent. It fits in your mind, a traitor in a group of traitors.

Soon, someone gripped by your hair, your eyes focusing on the oh so familiar boots of your beloved Captain. Your weak body was limp as Price pulled you from the corner he left you in just hours before, dragging your body across the floor. He then set you up in the chair in the center of the room. “I got a real treat for ya later. Someone’s coming to visit.” Price growled out, looking into your defeated eyes, “You best hope they don’t keep this up.”

You refused to respond. He huffed, gripping the chair and staring into you with hatred, “You’ve been a thorn in my side these past few weeks.If you weren’t so damn important, you would be dead by now” The words were supposed to phase you. They did, but only a little, mainly because being dead sounded like a nice relief. Seeing how ineffective his words were, he growled, winding his arm back to punch you square in the jaw before the door busted open, causing both you and Price to look at the open door that swung open with so much force that it bounced off of the wall it hit. “Enough, John.” Laswell’s voice loudly cracked through the room, seeing Laswell holding Tree by his hair and wrist. “We’ve got the actual traitor, release them.” Your heart fluttered, seeing Nikolai and Gaz right behind her, as if two guards guiding someone, who didn’t need to be guarded mind you, and their dangerous captive. Though, you were only glad to see Nikolai and Laswell. Your heart couldn’t decide if Gaz earned that right in the fuzziness in your chest after everything. After all, your limp hand barely held the string.

Price’s eyes widened, stepping away as his mind turned. You could tell that he was processing the information as Laswell pushed Tree inside the room, Gaz and Nikolai both following immediately. Nik went straight for Price, consoling the man and quickly ushering out of the room. His voice was too soft for you to pick up any semblance of words, that, and you were barely paying attention. You knew Price’s world must’ve been rocked considering what Tree had already told you. You could barely register Gaz taking off your cuffs and tightening around the traitorous male’s wrist, not caring if he complained that it was too tight.

Good. You sickly thought as you heard the clicking of the cuffs.

Gaz brought you up off of the chair, wrapping your arm around his shoulders in an attempt to let you walk, but your body refused. Your mind was still numb to everything, trying to figure out if it could even walk. When you crumbled towards the floor, Gaz scooped you up in his arms. Gaz’s soft and sweet voice softly murmuring apologies. How he tried to get there sooner, but they were waiting on Nikolai and Laswell, but they had to be rescued after weeks of no contact. Price was stuck here and just took his anger out on you since he assumed you were a part of it. You didn’t respond. Part of you didn’t believe him.

The look of dread was sinking into Gaz as he made glances down to your body. While Price didn’t break anything, he dislocated so many things, only relocating them when he got pissed enough. It felt like some might’ve been broken then, but you weren’t sure. Gaz had sped up his walk as you barely recognize Soap’s worried blue eyes as Gaz bulldozed past the Scot.

The amount of care you felt for the world around you was non-existence and it worried Gaz. Every fiber of his being convinced that he was way too late, but he’d try. He’d try so damn hard to get his little angel back.

You heard words exchanged between a different medic than the one before and Gaz. Though as soon as your body felt the softer feeling of the cot, you passed out. Welcoming any softer feeling of an object compared to the cold feeling of the concrete you’d spent the previous nights on. When you woke up, you were covered in bandaids, wrappings, and a few splints on your fingers. You glanced down to see an IV in your arm, and, moving past your better judgement, you ripped it out with nothing more than a soft grunt. It alerted the new medic who swiftly came over, mumbling to themself as you stood up on shaky legs. “Hey! Hey! Sit back down. You need to rest.” He instructed, gently trying to keep you on the bed, but you refused. You still had strength in your body, more than you realized. Perhaps it was just your mental will power that was dead. “No…” Your raspy voice spoke, startling the medic. “I want to return to my room.” He hesitated, glancing away for a moment. “If you let me and my colleagues check in on you every hour on the hour… F-Fine.” You knew this wasn’t allowed, but the lacking care in your body showed, cause the medic seemed absolutely scared shitless by your gaze. You must’ve given him one hell of a glare.

He helped you to your room, always there for your stumbles as you partly wondered where the hell Gaz was. You would’ve sworn he’d be by your side after all of this, but he wasn’t there when you woke. The question soon answered itself as the medic flicked on the light to your room. Your bed was covered with new bedding, stuffed animals, flowers, pillows, anything and everything a lover could do to comfy up the military beds. Though no Gaz. Was he hoping to do a big reveal once you were better? It didn’t matter now. The surprise was ruined and you couldn’t care how nice it looked. Not like you’d choose to remember.

The scene in front of you didn’t affect the deadness in your heart. You just wanted to sleep somewhere more familiar than the medical bay. You stumbled over with the medic’s help. He was about to help you to the side of the bed before you took your arm and wiped off as much as you could, dumping a good chunk of it onto the floor. The only thing that remained was a brown stuffed teddy bear and the new pillows. The teddy bear was holding a heart that you only noticed after grabbing it to huck it onto the ground. You assumed that what it said on the heart was something cheap, before you paused. You noticed how the message was hand-sewn into a heart, that was a bit-lopsided, but also hand made. ‘To my Angel. You will forever be in my heart. No matter where we are.’ It read. Was it still sappy? Sewn in a bit sloppily? Absolutely, but you settled into bed with it. The stuffed bear held tightly against your chest as the medic carefully tucked you in.

“See you in an hour.” He said softly, carefully nudging the gifts on the ground towards the wall to be picked up later, before turning off the light to the room and leaving you alone. The darkness made your mind scream in fear, but the tiredness in your body gagged it as you finally closed your eyes to sleep against the mattress that felt so soft. Your arms had a death grip on the teddy bear. Its soft fur brushed against the bandages on your arms and chest. You wish you could feel how soft its fur was, but your body was being held together by the medical fabric. Soon, you were able to drift off to sleep with a soft warmness towards Gaz once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y'all enjoyed glances at word count 4,027 words of this! I was debating on putting it in two parts, but.... Nah. You guys just get one BIG chapter. Y'all get two more chapters of angst and fluff until it ends. Not sure when it'll be posted cause my mind be everywhere lol. Inspire by this post.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

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rat6ix · 21 hours ago

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So what?

Nam-gyu x reader

Summary: you are horrible for each other but neither of you are gonna do anything about it.

Warnings: smut, toxic!nam-gyu AND reader, neither of them are good people dont be like them, degrading from both parties, switch!nam-gyu and reader, biting, doesn’t take place in squid game, talk of drugs; no description of either doing them but yall high as shit, reader and nam-gyu love each other in some kind of fucked up way…i think, reader is highkey a freak and not in a good way, choking but not the sexy kind reader is tryna kill him, but then again he finds it hot so maybe it is sexy..?, no aftercare.

Porn with no plot 😇

—

Wc: 1.1k

— 🐀

At this point you’re not sure nam-gyu remembers why you were fighting, the drugs in your system combined with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you making both of your brains fuzzy, you could tell he was getting antsy —impatient even. You hadn’t moved since his cock had slipped inside of you, he didnt deserve it, Not until he apologized. His hands away from any part of you, you made it very clear you would have no problem kicking him out of your apartment , it wouldn’t be the first time he was on your doorstep begging for you to let him in.

You heard him whine from under you, obviously trying to keep himself from squirming. You could feel his cock twitch every time you shifted a certain way, you wanted to roll your eyes at how pathetic he was. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his eyes squeezed shut trying not to fall apart but you knew he would sooner than later.

“Don’t be like that, stop being a cunt nam-gyu look at me.” You teased.

Bringing your hand up to his jaw. You chuckled as he glared at you, his hands twitching by his sides. You know how much he wanted to flip you over and fuck your brains out but you also knew he wouldn’t cause his ego means too much to him.

“Fuck you.” Nam-gyu growled, his jaw clenched his eyes still glaring. You stared down at him blankly before you started laughing, you’d might as well have tears in your eyes at this point.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you.” you joked.

You rolled your hips, a smile still on your face as nam-gyu let out a strangled noise. You moved your upper body closer to his, your hand leaving his jaw finally. Leaning to whisper in his ear.

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll fuck you.”

He made a noise of defiance, jerking his head away from your’s. You leaned back up and frowned, reaching down and gripping his hair. He winced at the feeling, your grip tight as you pulled his face towards yours.

“Don’t do that nam-gyu, you owe me an apology for what you did.” You insisted.

When He didn’t answer your grip on his hair got tighter until he broke.

“Fuck—fine! Im sorry.” He pleaded tears gathering in his eyes from the pain.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You chuckled.

You knew he didn’t and you were right, the look on his face gave him away. It was the face he always made when he was about to lie himself out of trouble. You knew him far too well for far too long for that to work on you. He didn’t know but you didn’t mind reminding him, your hands moving to his chest.

“Remember when you left me high off my ass on the bathroom floor of club pentagon tonight because you had “better things to do than babysit someone who cant handle their drugs”, hm?” You tilted your head as you spoke.

You were tempted to get off his dick kick him out right now just because he didn’t remember, luckily a nice girl stayed with you until you were sober enough to walk and he’s lucky you’re somewhat sober now or else you’re sure you’d be throwing his shit out of your bedroom window; you probably still will if he pisses you off again.

“You’re still mad about that?” Nam-gyu laughed.

His laughter didnt last long as you brought your hands to his throat and fucking squeezed. His eyes widened as you smiled down at him, his fingers trying to pry your hands off of him.

“C’mon say sorry.” You chuckled, doing your best to keep your hands where they were.

“Fuck— im— sor—sorry.” He tried his best to wheeze out.

Satisfied with his shitty apology you release your grip on his neck leaving him sputtering for breath and coughing. You looked down at him with disinterest, your fingers drawing shapes into his stomach. It took him a little bit to get back to normal, his eyes still wide looking at you. He opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off before he even began.

“I could feel your dick twitching the entire time i dont wanna hear anything you fucking slut.” You rolled your eyes.

You barely had time to register him flipping the both of you over, his hands on your wrists keeping you still. His face was unreadable but you could tell he was fucking pissed. It didn’t take long for him to start fucking his cock in you at a brutal pace, his ringed fingers moving to to dig into your thighs, You were definitely going to have bruises on them in the morning.

Your fingers digging into his shoulders kept you grounded, your jaw dropped a bit has he fucked you into your mattress. He was breathing heavy above you, his head hung with hair framing his face. You could hear him curse under his breath a few times before raising his head back up and flipping his hair back to where it wouldn’t obscure his vision.

“Looking a little tired nam-gyu—“ you laughed.

You were cut off by a particularly rough thrust, jolting you backward. You could nam-gyu had enough if your bullshit but that only made you smile harder as he got angrier.

“Stupid fucking bitch, always running your mouth.” Nam-gyu retorted, gripping your jaw.

It hurt to keep smiling, his fingers digging into your face, but you didn’t care. Your mouth open now as you drool all over his hand. He looks at you disgusted before letting go to wiping the drool all over your face. You laughed as best as you could with his cock still being shoved into you at an alarming pace. Your breathing was as labored as nam-gyus at this point, you could tell he was as close to cumming as you were.

Your hands went to the hair on his neck, he probably wasnt even feeling anything but you wrapped around his cock as you tugged at it. His eyes were trained on where your bodies met, occasionally looking up at your face. His hips were stuttering now, the way you were squeezing his cock not making it any easier. For the first time that night he leaned down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss, you decided to take pity on him and return it. After the kiss was broken you took advantage of the position you were in, digging your teeth into his shoulder smiling up at him when he pushed you back with a glare.

It wasnt long after that you both came, nam-gyu pulling out to cum on your stomach. The room was still, the only sound being both of your loud breathing. He rolled off of you a minute later, taking his place on your other side. You stared up at the ceiling for a while before getting up and making your way to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Nam-gyu asked out of breath.

“Shower.”

—

Belongs to rat6ix

#sixfics!#squid game x reader #nam gyu x reader smut #nam gyu smut #nam gyu x reader #squid game smut #toxic!reader #tw toxic relationship

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linics · 1 day ago

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comforting bllk characters

featuring : i. rin, m. reo, m. kaiser

a/n : hi so ummm im back .!!! did you guys miss me ?? anyways my writers block was HORRIBLE but im recovered now i think. let’s ignore how ooc kaisers probably is because its based off of fics ive seen + edits. i’ll redo it later.

i. rin

as i referenced in the one where they comfort you, rin would be very closed off emotionally. even so, he’s like a fucking book with how he behaves.

it doesn’t take you long to realize just how much the u-20 game affected him. as much as he tried to turn his annoyance into motivation and actually doing something with it, sometimes it would become too much. whether that looks like him overworking himself or lashing out, it’ll always show through.

the most you could do is make sure he stays safe during it. showing up to the field at weird hours, ruining your sleep schedule, just to give him more water and a ride home considering he ran all the way there.

“why’re you here?” he’d scoff, panting slightly from all the work.

“woke up early, thought i’d stop by,” you lied, yes, but it was fine. he didn’t need to know you’d set at least 10 alarms to make sure you’d wake up and stay up.

he didn’t respond, so you just handed him a large water bottle. it was a spare, but it also was the biggest you’d had, so it’d have to make do.

“thanks.” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. the cold barrier that’d been there slowly flexing and melting away.

he wasn’t someone that you could just befriend instantly. every time the two of you hung out, you’d have to prove to him that you were there to stay. it was gradual.

most people gave up after the first couple of times when they realized they were practically back to where they started. that was except for you.

after taking a few sips of the water, he hands it back to you, not wanting it to interfere with his training. you grabbed it from him, then wandered over to the sidelines.

“where are you going?” he asked, though, if you paid enough attention, you’d notice he was anxious. very anxious.

“just over here, i don’t want you to hit me..” you said calmly, trying to lighten it slightly. you were careful to not wander too far from him.

he didn’t say anything to you afterwards, but you noticed the tension loosened again.

even though he wouldn’t let you interfere — which you have tried — he’d still let you care for him. maybe he knew it was because you’d get anxious and blame yourself if he didn’t let you help in some way.

m. reo

he would be anxious. i don’t care if this is ‘out of character’. for the most part, yeah he doesn’t stress much because he hasn’t had much to worry about. but the second he gets stressed out, he stresses, a lot. and because he hasn’t been exposed to much stress, he’s absolutely clueless on how to cope.

he’d be laying in bed — at his desk now? nope, he’s pacing. point being, he just can’t sit still, and god, he won’t stop babbling about nonsense.

“reo.” for the hundredth time, he’d cut you off completely. this was coming from the guy who felt it was rude to type when other people were typing, so you let it slide.

“and then — oh yeah, did you say something?” finally, some recognition.

“come sit down in front of me,” you pat the bed, clearing off the blankets so he could just crawl in. he did just that, sitting in front of you, his back facing you.

“like this?” he was always so hesitant with you. but you just responded in a hum of approval. you carefully started combing through his hair with your fingers, occasionally grazing his scalp and briefly massaging it. his hair was silky and clean.

he became quieter, his muscles slowly relaxing and calming.

“so, you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” you spoke quietly, careful to not ruin the calmness of the moment.

“it’s nothing big—” you stopped in your movements as he said that, and he knew that meant you were displeased.

“okay, okay, fine..” he mumbled.

m. kaiser

okay so.. i feel like now’s the perfect time for me to say i have not gotten to where he is in the manga. um! so what i planned to do for this is write how i think he acts, then correct it later on whenever i do catch up. i think i get him a bit though ?? currently i see him as a self destructive possibly alcoholic man. who takes after his dad who was abusive and an alcoholic, mom wasn’t in the picture. no clue how any of that relates to soccer but sure! i’ve heard a lot that he hits himself / chokes himself as a way of coping (after doing some research it’s for ideas. okay.) so that’s the route we’re gonna take with that. no clue if it’s true or not.

he really didn’t get it. no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t figure himself out. how was he supposed to understand others and beat others if he couldn’t even understand himself? he needed ideas—

was it illogical? yes, absolutely. did it work? also yes.

adrenaline from anything could be put to use to benefit. so, he did the thing he’s done for ages. maybe he’s began to rely on it for too long so he reached to it for the smallest things, he didn’t really care, though.

it worked, and until it stopped working, he wouldn’t stop abusing his body for his brain. it was nothing more than a vessel, anyways.

“kaiser.” even through your voice, his choking movements didn’t falter.

“just fuckin’ stop for a moment-” you were the only person he really let talk to him like that, even though it wasn’t often that you took advantage of it.

it worked enough for him to stop, just for a moment and catch his breath. it’s not like he wanted to pass out, anyways. the second he let go, you grabbed his hands.

“what is it?” he huffed, his voice groggy and rough.

“don’t do that. ‘what is it?’, you know exactly what it is.” it wasn’t uncommon for you to be mad at him or mildly rude, but even keeping it up for this long was abnormal.

“it works, well, it would’ve, if you didn’t disrupt me.” he rolled his eyes.

“that’s not the point and you know it.”

“then what is it?”

there was a silence for a few moments before you just decided to ask outright.

“what do you need help with this time?” you were still a bit petty, but you just hoped he wouldn’t pay too much attention to it.

“doesn’t concern you.”

“i’ll make it concern me. tell me.”

“why would i do that?”

god, was he always this annoying?

“okay, fine, whatever it is, i won’t interfere. how about you tell me, and if i can’t think of a solution by tomorrow, you can do whatever this is.”

there was another long silence as he considered it. it was appealing — all he had to do was tell you, and you could do all the work. the backup was there and it was exactly what he wanted. there wasn’t much time left in the day anyways.

“fine. tomorrow first thing.”

#bllk #rin bllk #rin itoshi #blue lock #reo bllk #reo mikage #comfort #fluff #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #kaiser bllk #micheal kaiser #bllk x reader

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seokmn · 2 days ago

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chapter 11.

wc: 1.7k words

another rock was thrown in the lake as you sighed. “i cant believe he did that to me, and i cant believe they hid that from me!”

keeho rubbed your back and listened to you quietly, knowing that all you needed at that moment was someone to listen to you. “he couldve talked to me! he knows im a good listener! it shouldnt need to end up like this…” you looked at your hands that were resting on your lap while your fingers were playing with the little rocks you were holding. you let out a frustrated sigh and looked at the lake that reflected the moons light. “ah, i dont know,” you threw a rock far away in the lake. the rock jumping a few times before finally leaving your eyesight as it fell down into the water.

“wanna know the worst part?” you chuckled bitterly and didnt even give keeho time to answer, you were already talking again. “i love him way too much to even say that i hate him or wish him the worst. id probably break up with him either way… i just didnt want things to end like this.”

“youd break up with him either way?”

“keeho, i love chan too much to let him keep me by his side after i become a burden for him. ive already met him when he had his dream of becoming an idol clear as day, how would i let him give up on his dream just for the sake of a relationship? he can get over me, but he cant get over his dream,” you said as you looked at keeho with so much sadness in your eyes. you knew that what you were saying was the most rational and right thing to think, say, and do, but deep down, your heart is broken, and you are screaming to have chan back deep inside.

“so, you want my opinion on this, or do you want me to just listen to you?”

“no, you can speak up.”

“first of all, you have all the right to be mad and upset at him, yeri and sieun, but you have to understand their sides as well. about sieun and yeri, they knew about this, but should they really tell you? some people would say yes, some people would say they did the right thing because this is between you and chan and they found out without wanting to. chan didnt tell them, he has no clue that they know,” keeho took a rock out of your hands and threw it in the lake. “now, about chan… he was an asshole, yes. he shouldve never treated you like that. but hes torn between you or his career, and that shows how much he loves you, dont you agree? imagine having someone loving you so much to the point of not knowing if they should choose you or pursue the dream they have had since they were a little kid.”

listening to keeho’s words made your eyes tear up and your lips tremble. he was right, chan loves you that much. “i think you should listen to what he has to say, but not right now. do that when youre feeling ready, okay? and dont be mad at sieun and yeri, they did what they thought was the best for you, and by sieuns message she was feeling really bad from hiding that from you, and you know how yeri is, i bet she was feeling bad as well.”

keeho patted your back and gave you a small and reassuring smile. you studied his face, and you saw nothing but love and empathy in his eyes, not a single hint of pity. he didnt pity you for being lied to and having to break up with the love of your life, he never once pitied you, and thats one of the countless reasons that you love about keeho. he loves you for who you are and always showed you how theres no one better to be your best friend but him.

you closed the distance between you by pulling him into a tight hug. the way he hugged you back immediately made you finally break down into tears.

you knew that even if it hurt and it would take a while to heal from this, everything would be fine because you have the best friendship ever and because you were making the right choice for the guy you romantically love more than anything.

the ride home just wasnt silent because keeho knows how to crack a joke and light up your mood. a part of you was almost forgetting about chan for the moment until your eyes landed on him sitting on the ground outside your house. the boy who was looking down at his own feet immediately looked up when he heard your laugh—your laugh that died once you noticed him—and felt his heart beat faster. he stood up while you stayed still with keeho beside you.

“do you want me to tell him to go away?” keehos question came out as a whisper. its not easy to tell that keeho adores chan, but he would fight him if you asked him to. even tho youre older than him, keeho thinks that he has to protect you just like an older brother would protect his little sister. “no, its fine. you should go tho.. see you at school, and thank you for today.”

keeho nodded and pat your shoulder before glancing at chan and flashing him a smile as he walked away, leaving you and chan alone.

“what are you doing here and how long were you waiting for me?” you made your way to the front door while taking your keys out of your pocket. “i wanted to talk... if youre up to, of course. ive been waiting not for much time,” chan lied. he went to your house a few minutes after you left with keeho. “when i came i saw that the lights of your room were off and supposed you were out. i didnt want to bother your parents by asking for you and waiting inside in case you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“what do you even want to talk about, chan?” your voice showed a hint of frustration, which didnt go unnoticed by chan, making him frown a little bit. “i want to apologize, yn. i shouldnt have acted like that, i recognize my mistake. i dont know what i was thinking… i was under do much pressure yesterday and- and…” his eyes started to be filled with tears, and his voice started to crack, he was trying his best to hold back his tears, but was failing miserably. “and i love you so much, i dont want this to be the end. i just dont know what to do. im so sorry.”

chan started to cry for real, sobs coming out from his mouth as he fell on his knees and looked up at you with a hopeless and extremely hurt expression. “i was supposed to show you every single day how much i love you and never be the reason of your worries, insecurities, and tears from sadness or anger. gosh-“ he choked on his own sob before continuing. “im so sorry. i dont know what to do. this is killing me.”

it was impossible to see that sight of him and not start to cry as well. it hurt you more seeing him like that than the whole situation itself that led you to this. “chan… stand up, please.” he shook his head and stayed on his knees. he tried to speak, but his sobs interrupted him, and his voice didnt even need to threaten him to fail, it was already a fact that if he tried to speak, his voice wouldnt go out. chan’s throat was tensioned, it was like there was something huge and painful stuck in it, and that feeling was more than agonizing.

you took a few steps closer to him and gently wrapped your arms around his head, which made him instantly lean into your touch and hug your hips as he mumbled countless im sorry against the beginning of your thigh.

you let him be as you waited for him to calm down and took the opportunity to calm down as well, trying your best to stop crying and ease the pain in your chest.

“i… i know why you were acting like that. its better for us to break up, chan.” as soon as the words came out of your lips, chan immediately looked at you. his expression showing a hint of shock, confusion, and horror. “w-what? how..? why?”

“dont ask me how, just be aware that i know the reason,” you sighed, ran your fingers through your hair, bit your lower lip, and looked at chan while he slowly started to stand up. “this is your dream, chan. why would you throw that away?”

“because you also became my dream, yn! i mean- fuck! im so in love with you, ever since we started dating, my dream is to see you walking down the aisle in your wedding dress and saying yes to me! i want you and you only! dont do this to me, dont do this to us.”

you clenched your fist. why is he making everything more complicated? all you wanted to do was kiss him until you lost your breath, but you couldnt. you had to stay strong and not back down.

“dont make this difficult. the decision has been made, chan. i dont want to keep in this relationship anymore. you should go after your real dream, not your little fantasy.”

“yn, please-“

“enough, chan,” you cut him off. “stop embarrassing yourself and go home.”

you opened the front door and went inside without even glancing at chan. you knew that if you looked at him one more time, youd give up, and you couldnt risk.

once the door was closed, all your walls were destroyed. you sat down on the floor with your head in your hands and started to cry as hard as possible, even losing your breath.

on the other side of the door, there was chan staring at it with no expression or thoughts. he had cried so much before that there were no tears left to cry, he just stayed there staring at the door for a few minutes before slowly turning around and making his way to his house with his heart broken.

if humans had seven hearts, chan was sure that all of his seven heart would be absolutely destroyed

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

yn and chan date since their freshman year and are truly high school sweethearts, but will chan’s dream of becoming an idol get between their relationship?

masterlist — prev — next

taglist: @ivehypnosis @wonkierideul @ateez-atiny380 @noircheols @222brainrot @odxrilove @vixensss @starshuas

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daenysthedreamersblog · 3 days ago

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SECRET OF US - VIII

i told you things

i told you things that i never said to anybody else, i regret them but I'll pack it up and practice leaving you were all at once 'til the fade to black 'til the yellow glow turned a little sad you were in my hands, but you're good at leaving

masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

summary: you head into the viper's den of your father's household with coriolanus snow

pairings: modern!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: MDNI! swearing, drinking, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

notes: rip tiktok also sorry im a slow writer ya'll im a perfectionist to my core

The sun didn't fit. It should be dark, gloomy depressing outside to follow the tone for today, rain and storms hiding away any chance of joy...instead the sky was clear, a bright yellow ray beaming down into you face making you look away.

His hand is resting on your thigh, you watch his finger tap along the meat of you leg. You think of a time when you glared daggers at a boy's head as he sat in front of you in some class. You follow his arm up until your looking at said boy's head watching the road. What force led you here to this moment in time? You knew what force back then, what stern hand had guided you, the voice incessantly in your head sounded too much like your father's.

You sighed staring back out into the road ahead, "Do you remember back then?" He makes a noise to question you. "School, when we first met."

He shuffles his hand around the steering wheel eyes focused on the distant road. "Um I guess, why?"

"No reason." You chew on the side of your finger and wonder how different your lives could have been if you hadn't given into your father's anger, a senseless competition. Would a hand be resting on your thigh still? "Do you think we would have been friends?"

He finally glanced over at you, "If you hadn't been such a raging bi-!" You whack his arm, "I'm kidding! Probably, who knows...and anyways its over now no use dwelling on it."

You watch his knuckle tighten slowly on the wheel and you feel like he's not telling the truth about something, but you don't push. He's right, the past was the past. "You were so cute in school I hated hating you."

"Figured." He smirked over at you. "And what about now?"

You cross your arms, "No comment."

"Spoken like a true politician." He chuckled. "Got to keep the cards close huh?"

"It's where they belong." You glance out the window.

His hand lands back on your thigh, "Maybe they belong to the wind." You wanted to, for him, for yourself, but trusting him was too hard despite trying. You had tried for years with Coriolanus Snow, years of blood, sweat and tears to ruin each other. That creeping fear that he was out to get you didn't go away within one sweet kiss.

You chew on your finger until the skin bleeds.

Your parents had lived close to the academy where you had went to high school, still owned the home where they frequently stayed. They also owned property away from the city, where the traffic was light and the stars were visible.

The house was right off the beach, overlooking the water with plenty of space to accommodate you and your friends, but you had no intention of actually staying there, trapping yourself in with your parents.

Instead, you followed Coriolanus into the elevator of the hotel you were choosing for lodging. "Do they know you're in yet?"

"No." You shook your head toying with the handle of your suitcase. "Few more hours of peace right?" You glance up at him, "Did you come up here with..."

The Plinths.

He nodded, "Yeah." You knew they owned property across town, had went to a party with Arachne and Clem there when you were younger. You figured he hadn't come back since Sejanus had died.

"Isn't it crazy we've been so involved in each other lives, yet we don't seem to really know each other." The elevator dings and you lead the way out and down the hall.

The students you had went to high school with you had been going to school with since you were a child. Your families grew up together, you had the same circle, and hung around the same people. Yet, he sometimes felt like a stranger to you. "Probably because we never really knew anything, just the surface layer."

You slide the key into the door and push it open rolling your suitcase off to the side and flopping down across the king bed. "Aren't you just a giant onion Coriolanus Snow?"

"An onion." He laughs the bed dipping as he crawled next to you.

"Let me peel you." You drew circles into his wrist as he stared down at you. Gosh he was beautiful, you had shied away from that, denied that but now you can't stop admiring it.

He smiles, "Tell me something real."

You let him brush hair away from your face, "You have such pretty eyes."

"What a cop out." He rolled those pretty eyes, "Too easy."

"Doesn't make it any less true."

He leans down and kisses the side of your mouth, "True." You waited for him to speak his truth, "I'm worried about tonight." You pulled back confusion written on every feature. Coriolanus sighed, "He-Your father...he-well you know what he's like."

You sat up, "I don't understand."

"I just...he's not going to like that you and I are..." You sucked in a breath. Say it, define this, make it real. "Not trying to kill each other." Disappointment settled in your stomach. "I have a feeling he's going to try and change that."

You furrow your brows, "Why?"

He ran a hand over his face, "He wants whats best for you, and that doesn't include anyone but him."

"He doesn't get to decide that." You climbed on top of him cupping his face. "I'm done letting him control me."

His hands slid around your waist, "I know."

You kiss him words being too raw to tell him you thought he was the best thing you had right now. He swings you around until your back hits the bed, until he’s hovering over you, kissing down your neck, collarbones pulling your shirt over your head to continue trailing his mouth down the center of your breast.

Your fingers work his belt open to allow him the space to push his pants down his legs and onto the floor. He's kissing down your stomach, kissing your hips as he inches off your underwear and pants laying you naked before him. He kisses your inner thigh, kisses the heat pulsating from your between your legs, and then he plants the gentle kiss to your clit as your back arches in anticipatory pleasure. He worships you, he glides his tongue along your clit, swirling and teasing the bud as your claws dig into his scalp. He presses down hard, moving his mouth in delicate motions that draws sweat to your hairline as two finger push inside of you. Your back arches even further, your hips tilting upward as his mouth wraps around your clit, stars peppering your vision. "Coryo," You moan for him feeling his smile deep within your cunt. His tongue slides over your clit one last time, fingers curling deep inside of you the pleasure incinerating you before you orgasm. You turn your face as you whine out into the air feeling him lap up every ounce of you until your withering under his mouth.

He's off the next second flipping you onto your stomach and hoisting you up onto all fours. You have one moment to grip the sheets before he pushes his cock inside of you. You groan from your throat as he grabs onto your hips to slam in and out of you and all you can do is arch for him to slide him deeper, slide him to that spot you like all too well. "So good," he pants out. "So good to me." You flatten your chest to the bed, bitting onto your knuckle as your body bends even further for him.

"Mhm," Is all you can whimper out as he thrust hard and fast into every inch of you. Your body is clenching down around him, the pressure building up too fast already. He was right, it was so good, how could it be this good between you two. You had been with other people, he no doubt had as well, but this...this was a different plane of existance. "You feel so good." You tell him the same.

He lets out a breathy laugh, his strokes slow and deep. "Do I?" He reaches around your body fingers pressing into your clit, drawing circles into it. "Tell me baby girl, tell me how good it feels." You do. You're a blubbering whining mess for him, mewling for more as you scream into those stupid hotel sheets. "Cum on my cock then, show me how good it feels." You do that too twisting your fingers into the bed as your body clamps down around him. He grips onto you hips again moving at a rabid pace to chase his own pleasure, spilling inside of you with your name on his lips.

You lay like that for a while, bent over, him inside of you until it didn't seem reasonable anymore. He reluctantly pulled out, you reluctantly let him, and then he's pulling your sweating bodies together across messy sheets. You need to shower, you need to get ready, prepare for this disastrous event.

But you close you eyes, and revel in the warmth of his skin a little longer.

You smooth down the black dress, fidgeting with the jewelry littering your fingers. "Hey." His warm hand slides into yours. "We don't have to go." He comes in close tucking hair behind your ear as he trails a finger down your cheek. "We can go back, spend the whole night in that hotel room." You sucked in a breath cheeks heating despite the slight chill in the air. He smirked, "Spend it having you spread open beneath me."

You leaned into his hand, "As nice as that sounds..." You tugged his hand down from your face your fingers tangled in an intricate web of connection. "I have to face him."

The door opens and you find yourself dropping his hand taking the slight sidestep away from him. You catch it, he catches it, but you avoid looking at him. "Mother." You rush into her arms the only comfort you had ever found growing up.

"My darling girl." She kisses your cheeks and peers at Coriolanus Snow. "Mr. Snow, what a surprise." She holds out her hand allowing him to press a respectable kiss to it before ushering everyone inside to avoid awkward conversations.

You stand there in the foyer awkwardly anyways. "You have a lovely home." He tells your mother.

She waves his flattery away, "She's not in her prime, only had the dust shook off for this pointless party." She eyed you tenderly, "Come by our building when we all get back to the city, now that is a lovely home."

"I'm sure he has better things to do that admire your paint choices." You fought to not roll your eyes as worlds incessantly collided in front of you. Coriolanus had always been overly cordial with the elite set of parents your fellow students had, smoozing them at various events...even yours.

He smiled down at you, "I'm a avid paint admirer." He runs a hand down the sleeve of your coat. "Let me hang this up for you."

Your mother motions down the hall, "Coat check is right through there." You shrug out of your coat and watch him disappear with it, "I thought we hated him?" She whispers in your ear.

"We do-we did...I did." You glance at her. "I don't hate him anymore, at least I don't think I do."

She studied your face, "No you don't hmm." You had your father's eyes, cold, hard eyes chased away by all the warmth in your mother's who's softness always enveloped you, a softness you searched endless inside of yourself. She gave you life, she knew your soul even if you didn't. "I meant what I said, have him come by when you get back."

"No." You scoffed.

Her eyes narrowed, "You're as difficult as your father, your own worst enemy." You hear his footsteps returning, "Why don't you give him a tour?" She runs a hand down your arm before walking away.

He smirked down at you, "Absolutely not," You pointed at him.

His hands grabbed onto your waist pulling you in, "Show me you room kitten."

"You're as bad as her." You groaned shoving past him and up the stairs. You walk him into the house showing him various offices and rooms and bathrooms. He's not interested in it, he knows you're stalling as you approach the last door. "This is my room." You grimace as you open the door letting him walk inside.

He flips on the light glancing around at your bedroom as if he never been in one before. It was different than you room in the city, the one you chose, you decorated and lived in. This one was a view into your adolescents, the version he never got to see behind closed doors. He peers at your bare desk, littered with random pictures of Arachne and Clemensia. He slowly gazes at the walls covered in various awards and degrees, the small book shelf with childish fiction books hidden beside literature your father planted. Then his fingers are trailing along the white floral detailing on your powder blue bedspread.

"Roses," He traces the stem off of one.

"I guess." You were picking at your nails waiting for the snap of judgement.

He finally meets your eyes, "It's cute." You don't respond as he starts digging through your bedside table. "Your mother seemed okay with me being here."

"She knows how to bite her tongue." You step inward, "Been hiding her opinions for years now."

He sighs sitting on your cushioned perfectly made bed, "And what are her true opinions of me then kitten?"

You come around the bed, fingers trailing along the white wooden bedpost until you're in front of him. "I'm sure nothing appropriate." You smirk down at him as hands ghost the back of your thighs until his palms are pressed into your backside.

"What are your opinions?"

You straddle him, his hard cock digging into you. "Nothing appropriate."

His mouth hovers along yours, "Tell me something real."

I need you. "I need you inside of me."

He kisses you hard as you grind your body down onto his. It's fast and heated and you're fighting with his pants as he hikes up you dress to dig his fingers into your soaked cunt. "So needy for me." He smiles along your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before sprawling you out on your old bed.

"Always," You don't let him go far. You keep your arms around his neck allowing him to spread you open, to push inside of you slowly, inch by inch, letting him envelope you inside out. When he's filled you completley you let your legs wrap around him gently, letting him rock his hips against yours. You felt every inch of his body, every inch of his soul consuming you with every long slow stoke of his cock. He kisses you again, tongues melding together as your bodies had done, until every part of you seems attached to his.

Your hands trail down his back, feeling every muscle rippling under his dress shirt as he thrust into you. You're never sated, never full enough of him and you think you may never be and the idea terrifies you. So you tuck your face into his neck and kiss him, kiss his pulse and hold onto him before he slips through your fingertips, before you let him.

In the end you know it would be your fault, it had always been your fault.

You feel heat filling your veins, his fire engulfing you in it's blue flame raging against your amber glow. "My girl," He groans against your face, the words branding on your skin. "My pretty girl." In some other version of this you would ask him if he means it, if he could ever want you that way, and maybe he would, but not here, not now. You relish in the delusion of simplicity of being his.

You tilt your hips, you take him deeper, you close your eyes and feel every shock of pleasure shooting across your body. You clamp down around him, like you always would, and orgasm tangled up in everything that was him. His hips stutter as he cums soon after open mouth breathing against your hair. You feel the tightness in your throat, the realization of the serene bubble you made hidden under sexual desire. There was so much more, so much, and you could never look it in the face.

He kisses your forehead, and you wonder if he feels it too.

He stares down at you gentle fingers brush hair out of your face, "I may have smudged your makeup a little."

You chuckle at the break in tension, "That's alright."

"You're still beautiful." Your cheeks burn, "You've always been beautiful."

"Even back then?" You wince when he pulls out, as he helps you sit up to collect yourself.

He nods as he adjust his pants. "Then, now." He smirks up at you, "You've aged like an expensive wine."

"Your favorite flavor I assume?" You pull your dress down into place.

He watches you, "You are exquisitely delicious kitten."

You smile to yourself as you use the small vanity to fix yourself back up, cover up marks and smudges, straighten out your dress. “I see why now.” He says and you look at him through the mirror as he stares out of your bedroom window. “Why you like to go there..” The docks in the city.

You walk over to him taking in the same view he was; the dark water lapping on a cold beach. The lone boats still sitting along the nearly empty dock of people waiting for spring to break through finally. “It’s nice to always imagine the escape, picture a different life, romanticize the little things.” You sighed, “I spent a lot of time in here; needed to pass the time, wondered if I could float away too.”

“So philosophic.” He smirks.

You gaze up at him, “Just a depressed teenager actually.”

He chuckles, “No wonder you grew teeth and claws.” You turn to face him as he creeps closer to you, slowly like he might spook you, and he could because he was right. You always thought you were born with fangs, poison laced in your gums from who you were always meant to be, but really it had been a defensive measure. Now it seemed to difficult to put them away after so long, all the raw, jagged parts of you and he still chose to come closer. Your heart flips in relief, in some sort of confirmation, that he could see you, but it's falling just as quick with fear, with a need hide from his scrutinizing gaze. You've spent years honing this craft, tucking the monster quietly inside, trying to make it small enough to fit into a life that wasn't yours. He cups your face anyways forcing you to burn underneath its intensity.

Your brows crease, "Coriolanus." He kisses you, softly, like you were made of precious glass, melted and woven to fit within his palm. It's too much, too much emotion is pouring into your chest that you need to pull away. As if you could let it all come to the surface, as if you could believe the walls you had spent years building could be let go.

He sighs through his nostrils as he opens his eyes to stare down at you disappointment in his gaze, "You dropped my hand."

You played dumb, "What?"

"You dropped my hand."

You scoff, "What did you expect me to do, to say? 'Hey mom here's this guy I'm fucking?' Doesn't really roll off the tongue."

He rolled his eyes, "She knows who I am."

"That's not the point."

He narrowed in on you, "Then what is the point?"

"You tell me!" You snap like the viper buried deep down inside of you, the wild snake your father had forced you to be, the creature within your soul Coriolanus had always seen. You're breathing heavy watching him study every expression hidden under false anger.

"You always go on the offensive when you're avoiding questions." He reminds you after he had spent years observing you to dissect your soul. He takes a slow step forward, his middle finger twisting around your own, "I get it, truly more than you know. I just wish you knew. Is it so hard to trust me?"

"Yes." You breath.

His eyebrows furrow, "Why?"

"I spent my whole life mistrusting you, how do you unlearn a behavior." You feel your fingers tugging away from him. "Do you even trust me?"

He's pulling your hand back to him, to hold against his heart; steady and strong beneath his sternum. "More than I should." And he was right to, you were never able to offer him any security back in regards to whatever this was. You had always had to strike deeper, more lethally. ”Change, you change, that's how you unlearn things...I changed."

"Not much."

He playfully glares, "Just enough."

Maybe you had misjudged him, maybe you had always misjudged him. “What do you want?” It wasn’t accusatory, but the honest question.

“What do you want?” There is was, the stalemate, the cold war of neither of you wanting to admit the ever consuming truth. No, he would never admit defeat first. He wanted to pummel you beneath his iron fist first, or did he? You weren't sure you knew anything anymore. You knew you wanted to hear the words from his mouth, words you know you may never hear at all, pathetic words you're sure were just your own.

I care about you. I want you. I'm falling in love with you.

"Come on." You struggle to step away fully so your hand comes up to interlock with his. "We're already late.”

So, no you may never hear them because even you weren’t willing to reveal the soft parts of yourself, so why should he? Everyone had always controlled you, used you, and even when you tried to make your own choices it was thwarted by your father. It was difficult to relent that feeling, that fear; it was difficult to push the fangs back up into your gums and give in to those things you truly wanted.

You let him walk slightly behind you as you head back into the party, as you head right for the open bar needing to dull the feelings swarming your head. But now that your here, downing a glass of champagne where everyone can see your father's heir, the anxiety sets in. Your skin was crawling, you felt everyone staring at you as you drained a flute quickly grabbing another one. This was stupid, this was your dumb idea and you wanted to peel off your own fingernails to claw your way out of this pit of snakes.

"There she is." Your father's voice sends oily sludge down your spine as he speaks your name, demanding you to turn and look at him. You do. He's the same as ever, more gray hair popping up on his head than last time, his clean shaven face, dark soulless eyes peering into the depths of yours. He's quick to take your hand, pull you in close pretending to kiss your cheek. "What is Coriolanus Snow doing at my party?"

"I invited him." You're firm.

"Stupid girl." You quickly search the party finding him speaking with your father's business partners...networking. You should have felt unease at the sight, but you had stopped competing with him long ago and who cares if he networked for his own career. "Highbottom." Your father turned to the man next to him, "My daughter had told me her email was hacked a few months back, she never got your message for her to apply."

His fingers dug into your shoulder forcing you to respond, to grovel. "I'm so sorry Mr. Highbottom, I know how amazing of an opportunity that internship would be at your company. I would love to still apply if you are open to more candidates."

He didn't care, he had always been going to give you the position due to your father. "Technology is a fickle thing hmm...Come by my office when you get back to the city, we'll set something up for you."

You shake his hand. "Thank you sir."

"Good job." Your father had whispered once Highbottom had disappeared from view. "Now get that fucking leech out of here."

You glared; you’re glad he’s upset, you’re glad he didn’t plan for this. It didn’t make his disappointment easier to withstand, "It's not like that anymore."

Your father ordered a glass of brown liquor sneering into the cup. "Oh really. Tell me how many kisses did it take for you to forget who he is.” You don’t answer only take another long, slow drink. “Not much I suppose since he’s here no doubt whispering into everyone’s ear about how he’s the better option than you.” He watched you set the empty glass down before you looked at him. “The funny thing is…he is.”

It hurts. It had always hurt, you don't let on. “Then let him be better.” You narrow your eyes, “I’ll go where I’m wanted not where you’re wanted.”

Your father sighed, “Then go nowhere I guess.” He shakes his head, “Who would want you? A love sick withering woman who would rather wander aimlessly then stake her claim at what is so rightfully hers.” Your eyes quiver, “You’ve brought yourself so low, and for what? That bottom feeder?”

The sound of Coriolanus saying you father’s name snaps you out of it. “Mind if I borrow your daughter?”

He gives you a tight lipped smile. “We’re not done with this conversation.” Your father finished his drink and walked away without even acknowledging Coriolanus.

You stared up at him your insides steeling up. “Come dance.” He pulls you by the hand towards the middle of the room, you can’t even hear the sound of the slow music playing over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. You can’t even hear him ask his questions until he says your name multiple times. You look up at him, "How did it go?"

You laughed sarcastically into the air. "I am a coward. It's like the minute I'm around him I'm just a little girl again scared to disappoint her father."

"What does he want anyways?" He asked his hand sliding down the length of your spine, like his touch was the only thing holding you together.

"Money, power, glory." You watch the back of his head leaving the room. "He wants his empire, he wants me right there beside him so even when he's forced to step down he'll always be my shadow, he'll always be in control." Your eyes meet Coriolanus’s once more, "I think most of all, he wants me to want it."

"And you don't."

"And I don't." Then you’re looking at his chest, feeling the warmth of his palm within your own, and once again wonder how you found yourself here; finding comfort with him, finding security with him. "I don't know what I want, who I am...I just know I don't want to be controlled."

"When did you realize that?" He asked simply.

It wasn't simple, and you sighed. "Arachne had just come out." The air feels tight as you recount. "Her parents weren't happy, and she had come over with Clem for comfort, for reassurance. My father..." You swallow hard. "My father wanted me to convince her to lie, to pretend to be someone she wasn't, to take it back., and I almost did it. I almost agreed to do it."

You look up at his gaze; he wasn't judging you like you had judged yourself. He had always seen the worst parts of you and never looked away. "What made you decide not to?"

"I got back to my room, and I saw her laughing with Clem and I realized I never wanted my friend to not smile like that." You blink remembering the brightness in her eyes, "If she had to be pretend to be someone she wasn't...she never would have been able to be happy. I couldn't do that to her." His hand soothes the small of your back, "If I was more like him, if I wanted to be like him, I would have been completely okay with ruining her life."

He stilled. "You aren't like him."

Couples are spinning around you, laughter rings out in distant areas of the room, you feel your mother watching you somehow, or maybe that was something only mother’s could make their child feel. “I always felt too much, too keenly; hatred and worry and…love.” His blue eyes twinkle in the golden chandelier light. “Hatred is easier to admit than love.” Too much, too much, you’re revealing too much… "It's easy, but his…disappointment, his disgrace, it’s too much to bear. I have no more room for it, and it disgust me how much I allow him to bend me.”

His hand strokes your cheek forcing you to tilt your face up for him, “The wind kitten.” He repeats, “The only way to make room is to let some of it go. You can’t change him, you cant let him change you.” Another brush of his thumb, “I see you…I’ve always seen you. I know who you are, who you harbor, the bad and…the good.” He's kissing you then, cupping your face up to his as you hold onto his wrist savoring the taste of him. ”Let’s get out of here."

“Okay.”

Soon enough your rushing back though the party trying to find coats and purses to leave in a mad dash. Your father couldn't be too mad, you had come, made amends with his friend, would maybe try for that job...probably not. "I can't find my phone.” You cursed your dress, you wished you gave it to him instead but your searching ever nook for that stupid device, and then you remember. “My room, I-I must have left it up there earlier.”

Your room is dark once more as you push the door open seeing the screen light up on a slightly rumpled comforter. You scoop it up into your hands before turning and coming face to face with your father. “Did you really think you could leave without finishing our conversation?”

“Yes, I’m leaving.” You held your chin high trying to draw from Coriolanus’s strength.

His eyes narrowed, ”Before you go..." You’re mid trying to open your phone to text Coriolanus when you look up at him. "Did he ever mention his father to you?"

"What? No? Why would he?" Crassus Snow had died many years ago, before you had even went to school with his son. He had worked with your father for some time but nothing noteworthy.

Your father shrugged. "Interesting."

You cross your arms. "Spit it out already."

"Crassus Snow and I were friends." He said the air growing heavy, thick with the weight of his words; they hung in the space between you, suffocating, pressing against your chest. "I was making huge success, he wasn't, invested into the wrong places and he was jealous, hungry for more, for what I had." Your hand covered your mouth as your father stood up straighter. "He was never able to recoup what he lost. He died knowing his fortune was in ashes, his only saving grace would have been his son, so I couldn't have that. No, he would not haunt me any longer."

So he had sent you to destroy that last living memory of an old friend, an old enemy. You remember the lecture, the hatred your father had instilled in your for that boy.

Your father smirked, "And I knew he would have left his son the same task."

"He's not like his father." You shook your head, you never knew the man, but if he was anything like your father...

"Isn't he? Just as cruel and manipulative and power hungry with an ambition like a knife." He laughed at you, "Do you truly think he cares for you? Come on darling I know I raised you to be smarter than that."

Your heart froze up, "Maybe he changed after the accident, maybe he realized theres more important things in life."

Another cruel laugh, "He realized he's nothing without The Plinths and he's lucky they never pressed charges for him getting their son killed."

"He-He..." You're spinning out words hitting you like bullets.

Your father struck his final blow, "He's using you." A cold whisper. "You don't think I've been watching him all night, networking, scheming his way into places meant for you. He's using you like he used that Plinth boy and you are falling into the same little trap that will get you cast out or worse..." Two hands ran down your arms, a father's comfort. "You're faltering, you're letting opportunity pass you by, giving up power for a silly boy who could never love you."

"That's not true." Your nails dig deep into your palms.

"Is that all it took for you to give up? A sweet kiss, the moon on a string?" He tsked at you like a child. "I would pity you if I wasn't so disappointed, but then again you are just a woman.”

Anger flared within you steel locking around every wall. “Woman? Is that meant to be an insult?”

“Of course it is.” He scoffs. “If you were a man he wouldn’t have been able to weasel his way close to you. He knew all the tricks to emotionally manipulate you.” He laughed at you, “He’s probably down there right now sealing a deal meant for you because you let him pass you by, you let him make you weak.” You want him to stop, to shut up, to leave you alone, so you slip into the only version of you he adored.

You smirk, fangs slipping down the lie burning hotter than the poison dripping out. “You don’t think I know that. You don’t think I can see through his little tricks.” You tilted your head to the side hair spilling onto your shoulder. “Oh father, you should know me better, you raised me.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow urging you to continue.

“I’ve been planning it for months, the moment I knew we were going to be scene partners.” You gaze at your nails as if destroying a life was boring. “It’s my final move, my checkmate to say. I’ve gotten him right where I want him and he believes he can see some version of good inside me to soften up.” Your smile feels evil, vile. “You wanted me to hate him, but I hate him so much more on my own. I can’t wait to send him out with nothing, to destroy him one last time, to be rid of him forever.”

Your father actually smiles at you, “I’m impressed. He does seem rather smitten with you.”

“He's a leech as you've always said father.” You hold your head with putrid pride. “And he’s hooked on tight.”

The floorboard creaks your bedroom door opening wider as your infected heart plummets to your stomach, the ground feels like it had fallen out from beneath you.

“Coriolanus.” His blue eyes are dark with anger, with pain, with-with… “Coriolanus.” You go to chase after him but your father’s grip wraps tight around your arm.

Your father's mouth curved into a wicked smile,”If only all of that were true hmm?”

“You knew.” You’re hyperventilating, heaving heavy breaths. “You knew-He…” You think to your phone open on your bed. “You texted him to come up here…you knew he would be standing there…you egged me on to say all of that, to hurt him.”

His grip squeezes on your bicep. “I know what’s best for you, and Coriolanus Snow is not that.” You try to move but he's latched on tight, "You think I would let that boy, with his father's blood, take anything that was mine?"

“You’re wrong.” You seethe getting in close knowing everything you felt for him was the opposite of hatred. “He’s better than both of us.” You wrangle out of his grasp, and then you’re running after Coriolanus Snow. “Corio!” You watch him throw his coat on, storming out of the front door. “Coriolanus!” You’re sprinting down the steps. “Snow!” He stills on the same porch you had arrived together on, in the same place you had dropped his hand. “I-I didn’t mean what I said.”

He doesn’t even turn to look at you. “He raised you as vicious as him, power hungry and armed to the teeth.” The same words he had said to you on that concrete sidewalk. "Don't waste your breath, you'll just embarrass yourself."

“Please.” You feel tears brimming in your eyes, ‘Please just…look at me.” He won’t and you go to reach for him, but you hand falls back to your side. “You asked me what I wanted earlier.” You swallow back fear. You were tired of lying, pretending to be strong, pretending to not care when all you cared about was him. Screw the past, screw the feud and your father, you wanted Coriolanus Snow, you wanted to love him. “I want you.”

You can’t see his face, but you know he’s glaring. “I don’t care.” You can't see straight, your vision is spotty. “I don’t care about you. I never did.” Your knee buckles, “You were just something to pass the time, to see if I could use you all the same.”

You reach out finally but his coat slides past your fingertips as he walks away from you, as he disappears into the night.

You don't go back inside. Instead you drown yourself in a bottle of champagne on a frozen beach, watching boats sit stagnant when you’re stupid enough to text him.

Please Coriolanus…talk to me.

The text never gets delivered.

It hits you then.

He blocked you. He left you.

He left.

big yikes

next chapter coming soon

#daenysthedreamersblog #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coryo smut #coryo snow #president coriolanus snow #the hunger games #smutty fanfiction #coryo x you #fanfic

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bearprofessorr · 3 days ago

Text

chasing the stars.

being kind costs nothing, but earns you so much more than you could ever imagine.

ship: bfd!declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: slow burn, alcohol mentions, panic attacks, fluff/comfort, no y/n. word count: 2.5k.

--- a/n: i've already written p2 and i'm just saying it is way slower development wise than i'm used to writing - however, it'll get there i promise <333. I'll edit it and get it up probably when im part way through p3 just to keep the flow of posts decently consistent (famous last words). enjoy <3

---

Declan was, as ever, stressed as fuck when he came back from work - barely stopping for a quick 'hello' before heading into his office and slamming the door shut behind him. You, as had become habit on a Friday night, were two glasses of white wine deep, cooking some new recipe with Taggie in the kitchen as a new years resolution the pair of you had made to broaden your taste palettes. Taggie was busy being a perfectionist measuring out the dough into the tray, and you - with no real intention one way or another - took the chance to peek your head around to check in on your best friend's dad. You disappeared from the kitchen with a quick, "Be right back, Tag." that was quietly acknowledged before she went back to adjusting the balls of dough. You lingered outside of the door, hearing the frustrated mutterings of the Corinium show host, hesitating before knocking lightly on the hardwood. The mutterings paused, and you heard the scratch of wood against wood, then heavy footfall until the door clicked open. Declan, expecting it to be his daughter, started to speak as the door opened, "Tag, look I'm - oh-" He paused, gathering himself in a fraction of a second, "Hey love, are you alright?" His voice softened from the slightly accusative tone he started with, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to read your neutral expression.

"Yeah no, I'm okay." You started, with Declan nodding along with a tired expression in his gaze. Your eyes dropped from his as you admitted, "I was actually coming to check in on you."

"There's no need for that, love." The nickname slipped so easily as he spoke to you, and you gathered he had no idea how close you held the endearment to your heart. "I'm alright, but thank you."

He stepped back from the doorway, going to close the door, and in a moment of confidence, you pressed your hand against it to stop the movement. "Are you sure? You don't look fine, if I must say, Mr. O'Hara."

Declan took a deep breath in at that, he had been caught, it seemed. He clicked his tongue before conceding, stepping back again to open the door of his office to you. "If you insist, I'll regale my troubles."

"Oh, I insist, I wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing what ails your soul." You joked as you walked into his office - the one place in the house that was wholly Declan. His books adorned the grand bookshelves on each wall, his work was stacked into haphazard but organised looking piles with sticky notes plastered over them, the whole room was quintessentially him. Even the scents of whiskey and lingering smoke made the room more like his. You almost felt like the room would start to push you out, with your flour covered skirt and light perfume made of peonies and vanilla acting like a magnet to repulse you from the space. Except, it drew you in, the one place in your best friend's house that it made sense you never spent any time in - apart from the obvious personal bedrooms of the house's other inhabitants.

"Make yourself comfortable, we might be here for a while." He smiled to himself, the weight on his shoulders lifting slightly with the mere concept of someone to share the burden with. Someone who he had never really spoken to in much depth - not counting the drunken talk of philosophy that he often fell into with whoever would listen. The door clicked shut behind him, walking past your to sit behind his desk, where he was already part way through a glass of whiskey - which if Taggie knew she would chastise him for, but she wasn't here.

"So, what's got you in more of a huff than usual?"

"What do you know about what's usual for me?"

"If I hadn't heard all of it from Taggie when I haven't been here, the past 3 weeks that I have been here when you come back from Corinium you've been in varying states of joy or outright despair." You shot back, which Declan silently responded with his tongue running along the the backs of his teeth, "Do you need me to repeat the question?"

"No, no, heard you loud and clear." Declan put a hand up in mock defeat, "I don't know how much has gotten to you about Tony Baddingham, but he was being even more of an arsehole than usual." He spat his bosses name out like it was rotten, even with the conversational tone of his words, "Gave the Thatcher interview to Veriker."

"James Veriker? The daytime show guy?" Your jaw dropped a fraction, enough for Declan to pick up on the visceral reaction it caused within you, "He could barely interview a chatterbox never mind the fucking PM."

"You're telling me." Declan bit back a scowl, feeling the tension rise in his jaw, reaching instinctively for the whiskey glass and taking a long sip. "Baddingham saw me as too much of a flight risk for 'handling' the woman 'cause I didn't want to ask about her fucking kids."

Declan took a deeper breath at that, the embers of his anger being sparked from where they had previously settled. You took that as your moment to comment, "He's not going to outshine what you could - and have done. It'll be considered monumental because it's independent TV, not because she got the true 'Declan' treatment - like she deserves."

"Right." The older man shook his head at the thought of James Veriker opposite the PM on his stage. "He won't stray from what's asked of him 'cause at the end of the day, he's Tony's lapdog."

"Didn't take you for being a gossip, Mr. O'Hara." You accused playfully at the insinuation, finally getting comfortable in your seat.

"Please, love, you can call me Declan. No need for the respectful parent shit around here, alright?" Again with the endearment, you could at least write off the smile that immediately plastered across your features as being from getting to first name basis with your friend's dad.

"Noted, Declan." To stop the fluttering in your chest, you tried your best to steer the conversation back to why you came here in the first place, "Is that really all it takes to get you in such a storm? Correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but there has to be something else."

"Well then, you should consider journalism with an instinct like that." Declan deflected, looking from you to the swirl of amber liquid in the centre of his glass, hesitating to even form the next sentence in his head - since then he would have to acknowledge it's truth. Regardless, you were ruthless, poking him again.

"So there is something?" You assumed it was some secondary work troubles, something else infuriating about another one of his co-workers that lingered in the after hours of his workday. What you didn't immediately catch onto was how he had nearly frozen on the other side of the desk, biting the inside of his cheek, breathing deep to hold back the emotion that had bubbled to the surface.

As soon as you did, though, you stood from your chair, raced around the other side of the desk to try and comfort him, unsure entirely of how to proceed, what was appropriate to do when your best friend's dad was close to breaking down in front of you. "Hey, hey," You tried to get his attention, his eyes flickered to the sound of your voice but he was still frozen, "Look, I get that you might not want to tell me - is there someone I can call? Maybe Rupert? I know he lives just across the field-"

"It's alright, love, I-" His voice choked up, jaw tensing his mouth shut as his lip quivered. Now that you were closer you could see the tears pilling up on his waterline, threatening to break the barrier and fall down his cheek. The gloss of his eyes only made them look younger, his deep brown irises reflecting the golden light of the room.

"Declan?" Your voice was quiet, having lost all power and confidence it had when you walked into the room compared to now, "If you need me to go, I can. I'm sorry if I overstepped at all."

You waited a moment for a response, but as you leant yourself off of his desk, his hand came out to reach for your arm, his hold noncommittal. The silent agreement between you was clear, even if he didn't want to speak, he really did not want to be alone. He still didn't say a word to you, but he turned his head to meet your gaze, looking up at you with his doe-like eyes. That was enough for you to rest back on the edge of his desk, adjusting your own arm so his hand slid into yours. It wasn't meant as a romantic gesture, your fingers weren't intertwined at all, it was just for the reassurance that you were here, and you cared for him. You squeezed his hand once, a sympathetic look in your eyes matched with an upside-down smile.

The soundscape of the outdoors replaced your conversation, the archetypal noise of the countryside, the rustling of leaves and choirs of chirps as the sun dipped below the horizon, coating the sky in shades of pink and orange. You both stayed as you were for minutes, until Declan broke the silence with a quiet admission, "I- you can't tell Tag about this," He prefaced, waiting for you to acknowledge it, as much as it would hurt your to hide anything from your best friend, it was necessary in the moment. He took a purposeful breath, "Her mother and I, you probably know from Tag it's not been the best as of recent."

You nodded, still holding his hand.

"I have a feeling, that if nothing changes, it won't get any better - if you catch my meaning." His voice was solemn, one admitting defeat in a war instead of the typical talk of a long-term relationship like his with Maud. "And, I don't think I can change anymore."

It was your turn to sit and process, as Declan stared into the middle distance, loosely focused on the door; While his other hand came up to cover the bottom half of his face, realisation settling in. Your gaze was set out of the window behind the desk, in front of you, watching the world pass by as your mind raced. You couldn't tell Taggie, never mind if Declan hadn't made you promise not to, it simply wasn't your place to break that type of news to her, no matter how close you two were. The only other thought at the forefront of your mind was how to help Declan relax, how to calm him down, get him out of the spiral he was at the precipice of throwing himself into the centre of. If it was anyone else, you would take them out on the town, forget over a bottle of wine and music loud enough to drown out their thoughts. Although, you assumed from Declan's general introverted personal life that a rowdy club would be the last place he wanted to be in this kind of state. Instead, you did the logical thing, since your own mind had run dry of ideas.

"How can I help?" You suggested, not realising that at some point, Declan's gaze had moved from the door to you, for long enough that when you looked down to get his attention, it was already fixed on you.

"A distraction would be nice."

"Like a story?"

"If you've got one."

"Yeah, it's probably all going to seem petty to you, but they're the only ones I've got of any interest, unfortunately."

"Go ahead."

You regaled some bygone tale of a schoolfriend's suspension, all the way from your young teen days but still fresh in your mind and still just as scandalous. You became more animated the more you got into the story, your hand slipping away from his to gesture excitedly about the chase around the school grounds that your friend was involved in, with teachers and students trailing behind to watch as it all unfolded. Your eyes were rushing around the room, never settling, so you couldn't see the fondness in Declan's eyes as he watched you speak, and how quickly it helped him forget about his own troubles simply by the guidance of your voice. "And then," You paused, overcome with laughter at the memory. "Then," you gathered yourself, looking to Declan to reach the apex of the story, "She got stuck on the fence while she tried to climb over it, and had to get the fire brigade in to cut her out!"

"That's…" Declan chuckled alongside you, "And you said you went to an all girl's school?"

"Mhm!" you agreed, "The amount of crazy stuff that went down in that place, you'd think it was a TV show sometimes."

"If what you've just told me is anything to go by, I might just have to agree with you there, love." He paused, thinking on the details of the story, "Are you still friends with this girl?"

"No, no not really," You shook your head, appreciating the last warm embers of the sun as it fully disappeared out of view, "I hear about her and her lot every so often, some new escapade they've gotten wrapped up in, or old stories that finally get all the details filled in."

Declan nodded along as you spoke, his voice softer but with a clearer tiredness underneath, "Like a cold case, then? Those always fascinated me, keeping tabs on seemingly dead ends just for the hope of a revitalisation."

You made an affirmative sound, letting the conversation fall into a lull as you took in a deeper breath, appreciating the serenity of the moment, breaking the silence with a quiet, "Are you feeling better?"

He muttered a small 'yeah' following it up with a sincere, "Thank you, love."

"It's no worry, you needed it, and it cost me nothing to help - so why wouldn't I?"

"You're a selfless girl, honestly." He smiled to himself, the pull on his heartstrings a problem to deal with later, "Tag is lucky to have you."

"Speaking of!" The time had been lost on you, a part of you was sad to have to leave, but there was only so long before Taggie would get concerned of your absence, "I should go check if she needs any help finishing off the food."

Declan gave a polite smile as you got up from the desk, brushed off your skirt, leaving a small puff of flour in it's wake and rushed off to the kitchen, not before pausing at the door for a moment, turning back to Declan and letting him know, "I'll poke my head round once they're ready, if you're still here."

"I will be, thank you."

#declan o’hara x reader #rivals x reader #declan o'hara #rivals #rivals 2024 #rivals fanfiction

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chiacanwritesometimes · 2 days ago

Text

casual (part 1)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

ship: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1.2k

authors note: this was a little hard to write, as i had to delve into the reserves of my own experiences, so this hits a little close to home. i will be updating soon! unedited. there is soft smut and mentions of homophobia. this whole series is about situationships, so dni if this triggers anything or makes you uncomfortable. please do not get into anything you do not feel comfortable doing, and know that you are loved and should not settle for less. my dm’s are always open. much love, and enjoy.

===========

your pov

you didn’t blame him. he wasn’t really in the best of mentalities for a relationship, so it must’ve meant a lot for him to choose you. or, at least, not push you away.

after losing his best friend, he decided he should lay low. if he didn’t get close with anyone, he would get hurt. except you. always, except you.

you would come over to his bleak apartment, and chat for a bit. occasionally, you’d bring him some food. you’d write down the events in your journal, rereading them time and time again to feel closer to him. you knew he didn’t want you, or rather, want you the way you needed him to. he was still stuck, mourning the loss of his best friend, and…lover. but he was gone, and you were right here. why wouldn’t he pick you? you weren’t terrible looking, and you weren’t … terrible in bed either. what was so utterly unappealing in you? you wrote in your journal. maybe in your thoughts, you’d find the answer.

entry 1:

it was 2 in the morning when i came over. the clock keeps ticking longer each time i go, and im hoping that one of these nights you’ll ask me to stay. you never do. i dont like the way i manage to say everything that’s on my mind when im with you. i think that one day, ill let you read all this, but for now, its just mine. i want to not like you, so badly. i get so nervous around you, my chest tightens, my lips curl inward, my eyes dodge yours, my hands are occupied with my sweater, and my heart beats speeding up by the second. i usually am more eloquent and organized with my words and feelings, but today was so frustrating. i can’t look into your eyes when we fuck, because i know that through mine you look for him. your eyes attack mine. your eyes are unkind, your eyes are bitter. your hands hold me, wishing i was someone else. your lips softly graze against mine, hoping that you’d catch a glimpse of what it would be like if it was him instead.

you picked up your pen, and sighed. that was enough angst for tonight. you still had his sweat on your skin to wash off.

he wasn’t evil, just in a confusing situation. you convinced yourself that if you were in his shoes, you would probably do the same. it still didn’t take away from the pain, though. you liked him best when you were the sole focus on his attention, and when he told you pretty things. you got a sick sense of comfort when he squirmed under your gaze. he knew what he was doing wasn’t right, but cmon. he must have had some sort of clue if he felt guilty.

his pov

you had just left his apartment on a sour note. it wasn’t uncommon for that to happen. he would send you a text, saying he was sorry, you’d respond, and the cycle would repeat again. it was almost comical how long it has been since you two had been at this. he had put himself in an awkward situation again, but he wasn’t sure if it was an uncomfortable one. the last time he was in a one sided relationship was with… it wasn’t a relationship, at least not by technicality. sure, they slept together, spent time together, cried together, but he knew deep down his heart belonged to peggy. he wasn’t jealous, but a part of him wondered what would have happened if he was honest with his feelings. hes sure nothing would have changed, as it would have been extremely controversial for america’s sweetheart to have a sweetheart of his own, let alone a male one. he felt like a kept secret, a promise that one day, things will be different. they never were.

now, with you, things were different. he felt the need to shield himself from the world, but it wasn’t because homosexuality wasn’t accepted, rather because he wasn’t. his mere existence was hated by many, for who he was, who he hurt. the winter soldier, although gone, still haunted him.

he didn’t want to hurt you. being close with you would mean that you’d have to take care of him, something he hardly ever did, so why should you? other than aftercare, he wouldn’t let his guard down when you were near. he was afraid that he would be right, and you wouldn’t give a shit about him, worried that you just wanted him for his body, like them. he didn’t like thinking of you that lowly, but after a life like his, it was bound to happen.

he sighed, and grabbed his phone. he texted you a small apology, silently cursing himself for continuing this cycle. he threw his phone on the couch and sighed. he got up, walked to the kitchen and made himself a small breakfast. the morning didn’t start just yet, but might as well start the day now.

your pov

you couldnt hate him. you loved the way he loved you, the way you came undone with his touch. his scent was addicting, and you were obsessed with the way he tucked your hair behind your ear, the way he breathed heavily under the sheets, the way he held you so gently when pumping inside you. you thought of this morning, and sighed.

you got his text, and smiled. “miss you. door’s open. bb.” you found it adorable how he typed in short sentences, and finished each message in “bb”, for “bucky barnes”, as if you didn’t know it was him. you dressed yourself casually. nothing too fancy, nothing too drab. you wore a small amount of perfume, just enough so his bedsheets smelled like you. you wore your favorite lingerie, knowing that romance was out of the picture. this was just a fuck, a quick connection between two people before the knowledge of knowing you will never be his overcame you. you showed up to his apartment, and he opened the door. you didn’t even need to knock, he knew you were there. he smiled.

“you look beautiful.”

you walked in, and he started kissing you. you always wore a low cut tank top, and he always lingered on the straps of your shirt. he’d bite it, almost whining that the small piece of fabric was in between him and your body. he led you to the couch, and let you straddle him. he removed your pants, complimenting the way they hugged your hips while doing so. you got on top of him, loving how almost natural it felt, how perfectly you fit on top of him. his favorite part to leave hickeys was in the sweet spot of your neck. he kissed over the healed bruise, evidence of the last time you came over to his place.

you went to bed. might as well catch some sleep before the morning came.

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