#like the kind that make me sick to my stomach when seeing it

[buckysgrace]

5. You Broke Me First

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

You enjoy your time with Steve.

Life without Patty was nice. Even if it had just been a few weeks. Two to be exact. Fourteen days with no drama, no petty arguments or feeling like you had to prove yourself to be something. It was nice, refreshing.

The realizations made you feel guilty, but your grandma had said it was probably for the best. You were allowed to feel thankful for Patty’s kindness at one time, but also able to move on from that point. You didn’t have to owe her for the rest of your life. 

Every single day was spent with Steve. You drove to work with him in the mornings, shared breaks with him, rode home with him at night. Usually you snuck over to his, as you were too afraid to have him over after the last conversation with your grandmother. But you feared she knew about your sneaking out as well. 

You felt comfortable, more relaxed than you had been in a long time. You had never felt so spoiled, so desirable. It was intense, but in the best sort of way. 

But now you were stuck. Technically you were still a part of Patty’s stupid idea despite her going silent on you some time ago. You had no way of confirming if she still wanted to do this. But most of all, you had no way of really telling her that this was off. That you weren’t sure if you wanted to do it.

You didn’t.

You supposed you could come clean, but the very thought of hurting Steve made you sick to your stomach. It was even worse when you looked at you with those big brown eyes, full of adoration and joy. You couldn’t be the one to break his heart. There was no way. 

“What are you thinking about?” Steve asked, breaking you from your thoughts of watching the water ripple against your fingers that were dipped into his pool water. His floaty was next to yours, bouncing against you gently with the drift of the wind. 

You turned towards him, breathing in the soft look in his eyes. You loved to stare at them, loved how big and gentle they were. You traced your eyes over the curve of his nose, then over his freshly tanned skin. You were close enough that you could see a few freckles across his skin. 

“Nothing.” You replied a second later, gulping harshly as you weren’t able to come up with an answer. You didn’t know what to tell him, how to explain the web that you had tangled yourself into. 

“Right,” He chuckled as he brought his thumb between your eyebrows, “You just had this intense look in your eyes for nothing.” He pointed out, as if he could see you behind your sunglasses. 

“My car,” You lied, swallowing roughly once again, “Just trying to think about how much more I need to save up.” You nodded your head quickly, not wanting to spoil the moment between the two of you. 

“Patty should pay for it.” He said as he turned away, pressing his sunglasses over his face once again. You blinked at him in surprise. 

“I let her in the driver’s seat.” You replied as you furrowed your eyebrows together, feeling like you’d been through this conversation many times.

“So?” He asked you seriously, leaving you a little surprised. Apparently he was the only one who didn’t think it was entirely your fault. 

“It’s my responsibility,” You grinned, mimicking your grandparents speech, “It’s fine. I just need one before you leave.” You teased him, dragging your foot off of your floaty to nudge your toe against his warm skin.

He was quiet for a moment, not at all phased at your antics as you stared at him in confusion. He hadn’t said a lot about college, but you figured he’d at least be gone by the beginning of the new year. 

“I think I’m going to quit my job. Family Video is hiring.” He said at last, making you blink in confusion. You tilted your head, not understanding where that was coming from. But perhaps he’d had enough of what his dad had said. 

“What do you mean?” You asked him, shifting on the rubber beneath you so you could look at him better. He exhaled roughly as he linked his fingers over his stomach. 

“Summer’s ending,” He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t think ice cream sells very well in the winter. Plus, I can finally get out of that stupid uniform.” He grumbled, racing his fingers through his hair as you thought about it. 

“I like the uniform.” You admitted, pulling a smile to your lips as he snapped his head towards you. You thought it was geeky, but it looked very good on him. You especially liked the tuft of hair that stuck out from his shirt. 

“You do?” He looked at you stunned, lips parted as you felt an amused grin forming on your lips. It felt wrong to admit that he looked attractive, but you weren’t going to think about that at the moment. 

“It’s very sexy,” You teased, “I enjoy it quite a lot.” You grinned, reaching across to press your fingers gently against his shoulder. His skin felt warm against yours. 

“Oh.” He flushed for a moment before his lips curled into a grin, smiling brightly like you had just made his whole year. 

“But if you want to sell movies, I won’t mind that either. You can pick out the best ones for us to watch.” You added as you thought about it, tilting your head as you tried to remember all of the new movies you had missed recently. 

“I can do that,” He grinned, looking flattered by the suggestion, “What’s your favorite movie?” He asked you curiously, gripping the arm of your floaty and pulling you closer to him. You wrinkled your nose at the sound of plastic rubbing together. 

“Hm,” You thought about it for a moment, racing through your options, “What was the one we saw together? You know, when you got all frisky at the movie theater?” You grinned mischievously as you thought about it, not missing his little gasp. 

“Ha,” He chuckled, cheeks burning as he looked at you, “You’re funny.” He shook his head, his laughter mixing with yours as electricity settled over your body as you thought about that event. He hadn’t failed to make you feel fiery since then. 

You both settled into a comfortable silence after that, your fingers linking with his over the water as your floaties continued to bump against one another. You crossed your ankles, the area between your thighs still sore from earlier today. 

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” You asked him suddenly, turning to face him as he snapped his head towards you so quickly that his sunglasses nearly toppled off. 

“Tonight?” He asked you for clarity, making you press your lips into a smile as you nodded. You figured it was about time. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to sneak around as much. 

“My grandma always makes something,” You told him, “And your fridge is bare.” You reminded him, thinking of the very bare sandwich the two of you had shared earlier. You were getting hungry and you figured he must be too as he was always snacking. 

“I need to go shopping,” He admitted, nodding his head in agreement. He hadn’t once mentioned where his parents had been since you’d been coming over, “Sure. That sounds like fun.” You wiggled your way out of the floaty, gasping as the cold water hit your skin before you made your way to the ladder. He followed closely behind. 

“Just don’t let them be weird,” You told him quickly, “Because they like to embarrass everyone.” You pouted as you thought about it, hoping they wouldn’t pull any embarrassing stories out. Although Steve probably knew them all. 

“Or you just don’t like being teased.” He told you, passing you a towel as you began to dry yourself off. You stared at your pile of dry clothes, hoping they’d feel good from where the sun had been roasting them. 

“That too,” You agreed with him, “I’ve never brought a boy over before.” You told him playfully, taking a quick glance around before you shifted your swimsuit off your body. You no longer felt embarrassed about being naked in front of him. 

“I’ve been the only one?” He asked, grinning at the subtle way you nodded your head, “I’m flattered.” He told you, eyes lingering against your body for a second too long before you shoved your wet swimming suit at him. 

You headed down the familiar path once you were both dried and dressed, trying not to fall to your knees as Steve linked his fingers with yours. You liked the feeling of his skin against yours, how large his hand was in comparison to your own. 

“Steve,” Your grandpa nodded at him once you had made your way inside, “Good to see your face. I’m used to seeing your back as you leave.” He grumbled, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the TV. 

“Grandpa.” You hissed, eyes wide in fear as you felt your insides warming in embarrassment. You wished they could just act casual for once. 

“Just saying,” He held his hands up innocently, “I hope you like meatloaf.” He replied, grinning as he sent him a little wave. 

“I do,” Steve nodded his head along, cheeks still flushed, “Thank you.” He nodded as he glanced around, brown eyes breathing in the new decorations within the house. Nothing special, just the occasional item your gran found at garage sales. 

“Hi,” Your gran piped up, moving forward to give him a big squeeze as you tried not to hide your face in embarrassment, “It’s been so long.” She rocked him back and forth for a minute, leaving you with a smile on your lips. 

“Yeah, it’s been a few years since I’ve been here.” He said seriously, lips curling into a polite smile once she released him. She gave his cheek a little pat, making you roll your eyes at the way she doted on him. 

“Well, since you’ve been in this kitchen,” She clarified, making the two of you gape in horror at her casual revelation, “But you can tell me how well you like the touch ups.” She said in a sing-song way before she shouted at your grandfather to join them at the table. 

“They’re great,” He squeaked out, “Really nice.”  He ran his hands through his damp hair a few times, eyes flittering towards you for a brief second. 

“Food looks amazing,” You said next, trying not to die as you sat down across from him, “Thank you.” You told her honestly, glad there was no tension despite their teasings. 

“We should pray,” Your grandpa muttered as he held his hands out, one for you to grab and the other for Steve to take. It was the same routine every night. You clasped your gran’s hand next, nodding your head toward Steve, “Any requests? Maybe no early pregnancies?”

“Grandpa!”

Dinner was surprisingly well, despite the little digs they kept making at the two of you. You huffed underneath your breath the entire time, wondering why they wanted to torture you in such a way. 

“I was so upset you stopped being friends in high school,” Your gran started as she scooped another plate out for Steve. His eyes widened, apparently not planning on three servings, “But people do grow apart. And then back together.” She added, smiling sweetly at you. 

“Yep,” You agreed, feeling the embarrassment sinking into your bones, “That happened.” You weren’t sure why you invited him here in the first place, but it wasn’t so they could act like you were going to marry him. You weren’t even really dating. The whole thought process made your stomach twist and churn. 

“She’s pretty special,” Steve spoke up, making you jerk your gaze towards him once again, “I was dumb to let her go before.” He added, eyes locking onto yours as your throat suddenly felt too dry to speak. You didn’t know what to say, or what to do. You forced a smile, suddenly filled with guilt all over again.

You both took the role of cleaning the dishes while your grandparents retreated towards the living room after dinner, discussing something that one of the church leaders had said today. Their gossip was something you didn’t care to hear about at the moment. 

“Why are you still friends with Patty?” He asked you suddenly, eyebrows furrowing together as soap leaked off of his fingertips. You blinked in confusion, unsure of where that had come from. 

“She’s not that bad,” You said softly, “She took me in at school.” You shrugged your shoulders, supposing that a bad friend was better than none at all. She knew all of your secrets too, so she couldn’t be that bad. Maybe just whiny, but you still cared about her. 

“Yeah for her own selfish reasons,” He shook his head, “She’s kind of a bitch.” He mumbled underneath his breath, leaving you stunned. You hadn’t heard him ever say that before. 

“You weren’t the nicest either.” You reminded him gently, not trying to start an argument but wanting him to understand where you were coming from. He jolted at your response. 

“I’ve changed,” He defended himself, cheeks reddening, “She’s still the same. I don’t want her to hurt you.” He mumbled, fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a plate to dry. You felt a bit better suddenly, getting down to what he was upset about. But he didn’t need to worry about her hurting you. He needed to care for himself. 

“I haven’t spoken to her in a while anyways,” You told him honestly, “Why did you break up with her?” You asked softly, even though you had heard the story a hundred different times. 

“What did she tell you?” He asked suddenly, making you pause your motions for a second. You chewed on your bottom lip. 

“That you had gotten tired of her,” You started, trying to word it as carefully as you could, “Basically you dumped her for someone else.” Nancy Wheeler to be exact. And that was the nicest way you could explain it. 

“Yeah,” He laughed, “I caught her in between fourth period with her hand down Carl Johnson’s pants. It wasn’t working out anyways.” He said with a little shrug, smiling at you as you thought about her story once again. Perhaps a few pieces were off. 

“Oh,” You blinked slowly, “She never told me that.” You muttered, furrowing your eyebrows together as you wondered what else she had lied about. Hopefully not anything. But it didn’t make you feel very ecstatic about your situation. 

“Why would she?” He asked as he brushed his fingers across your palm, “It doesn’t make her sound very appealing.” You nodded your head in agreement, figuring that you owed her a call. 

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[thatawesomenerdygirl]

I like you too if you hadn’t noticed | Tim Drake

**

oh my god I’m posting again 😆 then proceeds to disappear for years.

Friends to lovers. Batmom mentioned.

**

The first time you realised that you were falling for your best friend it felt like being hit with a brick, like one of  Two-face's thugs punched you right in the gut, you did not expect that. You and Tim had always been so close ever since you met him at school, now the two of you are in the University together, despite taking different majors you still made time for each other.

Innocent touches that meant nothing more than friendly gestures were starting to get you all flustered. He started to appear in your dreams, he'd kiss you in those dreams, looked at you right in the eyes and told you how much he adored you, cradled you against his chest.

"You are spacing out," Tim's voice cut through your racing thoughts, your eyes flick towards him, wide and then you blush. He was so close.

The two of you were currently sitting on the picnic blanket in the Wayne manor's garden, doing your own respective homework. Mrs. Wayne had kindly prepared some snacks and drinks for the two of you, she was such a kind woman.

His brows furrow, worry clear in eyes and he leaned closer.

Gosh, he is handsome.

"Are you sick?"

"No," you shook your head, you cannot look away because he'd notice a shift in your attitude and because you cannot stop looking into those pretty blue eyes.

"You are red," he pressed a palm against your forehead to try and get a feel of your temperature, "warm as well, are you sure you're ok?"

Because of you, you thought. "I'm fine, Tim," you gently pulled his hand of your forehead.

You didn't notice but Tim took a quick glance at your lips when you spoke, fixated at the way your tongue flick out to wet them.

He leaned back, observing you, "whatever is in your mind right now, you can tell me, you know that, right?"

"I know," you sighed, closing your book. There was no way you could concentrate now, your feelings for him had ran too deep. "But not this one."

Tim didn't push, that was one of the traits that drew you to him, he was an absolute nerd and he could ramble about anything that peaked his interest for hours, you always listened to him even though you didn't understand what he was saying most of the time, pleading him to translate it in English which always made him apologize shyly and rephrase what he had told you using words you could understand.

You laid down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky. Everything reminded you of him now, you'd done so many things together after all.

He laid down on his side beside you, propped up on his elbow so he could look at you. "Is it about me?" He asked, his fingers were rough compared to yours but they were gentle as he brushed some strands of hair off your face.

"Huh? What makes you think that?"

"I noticed, you know," he had this really cute, really attractive, amused smile that made your stupid heart beat faster, the butterflies in your stomach flutter and your lips part to let out a shaky breath.

You didn't speak so he continued, "the way your gaze linger at me, the way you take a deep, deep breath when I'm around, the way your eyes brighten whenever you see me," he hooked a finger under your chin to tilt your head up so you'd look at him again. "You are not very subtle."

"Nerd," was all you could manage. You were going to have a mini heart attack with the way he looked right through you. You often forgot that he was pretty much a detective. Yes, you knew about his late night activities—if you could call it that.

"Very creative, I'll take it," he laughed.

You loved the sound of his laughter—you were so infatuated with him. "Don't laugh like that," you were just so flustered.

Your little protests only made him laugh a little more. "I like you too, if you hadn't noticed," he finally said. "I have liked you since you spilled your coffee all over me."

"I-it was an accident!" You stuttered, giving his arm a whack. It was so embarrassing that you ruined his expensive shirt but he wasn't mad.

"Sure, it was," he grinned.

A pause between the two of you, neither of you said a thing, just stared at each other, your gazes locked, his thumb brushed over your lips, then he spoke again.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," you bit your lower lip, "please."

He leaned down then, his hand moved to cup your face. It was a feather light touch, a hesitant kiss despite his teasing earlier, just a soft press of his lips against yours but it ignited your entire body, almost toe curling. Then his kiss shifted, his lips moved to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek and lastly your forehead.

When he pulled back, he had a shy smile on his face as he looked at you again. His pupils were dilated, yours were probably the same too.

"Do that again, please?" You tugged him down by the collar of his shirt.

He breathed out a chuckle but he leaned down once more, "you're going to be the death of me." He kissed you.

[mitskiluvr]

that body never belonged to you in the first place

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[medicinemane]

Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood

Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something

"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"

Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay

Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do

Murderer

[wxlfbrxthers]

not me reblogging sean and daniel fanart to then just a few minutes later see a post showing that the artist is a diazcest shipper 💀

[ladysophiebeckett]

now that it's the next day and im less annoyed, two things i thought was interesting in the mexican adaptation--

when the gaslighting arc starts, lety's like 'yeah we should go back to omar's place' and fernando, instead of being excited about it, he's scared bc she had told him various times she didn't want to bc of 'guilt'. so he's in the bathroom pacing, worried bc 'this isn't like her'. which i thought was funny.

when they go to the event and she tells him she needs to leave bc someone came to get her, he assumes its her dad and he immediately is like 'i'll talk to him' and she says 'no , it's tomas' and he grabs her hands and she pulls back and says 'ppl can see' and he says 'i dont care'. she insists she's leaving and he can't make her stay bc they're not at work. but he doesn't care and drags her away.

that is as 'dark' as the scene gets. bc the next scene its back to light hearted comedy where he's flirting with her again. they really don't want to go there with him (making him crazy), which is disappointing.

[seonghwasblr-moved]

Goodnight friends aka moots I’ve probably never talked to! Remember you are loved and beautiful and the world is a better place with you in it! ♡

[hifumi-gigolo]

. Vent??m

[mejomonster]

Realized im now afraid of dating

[malaierba]

Looks at the clock. Time to feel so so ill over stolitz so so ill.

[hysteria-things]

CANNN YOU MAKE A CHRIS FIC LIKE THISSS

ENEMIES WITH BENEFITS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the hatred you have for chris sturniolo is ungodly… well; until you guys are alone, at least.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, p in v, hair pulling, spanking, orgasm denial, dumbification, fingering, semi-public, stomach bulge, breeding, praising, low key toxic

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,475

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i kind of want to make an enemies with benefits chris universe… like not a series but some more fics in the same timeline/backstory does that make sense😪

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… you've hated since childhood.

"i hate you, chris." you whimper, wiggling in his gamer chair that you’ve been sitting in since you got here. “i hate you! i hate you!”

while repeating your hateful words, you tried your best to push his head away that was feasting on your insides. he doesn’t budge, his tongue flicking rapidly against your puffy cunt. legs draped over his shoulders, he eats you out so good that your toes curl. it’s like you’re the best meal he’s ever eaten, arousal coating your inner thighs and around his mouth. some even drip down his chin, the squelching sound turning you on even more.

blabbering out bits and pieces, you finally find words to let out a coherent sentence. “i-i wish i never met you. you— f-fuck.” slouching more into the seat, chris sucks on your clit, your eyes fluttering and mouth wide open with whines leaving it. you tug on his messy hair, letting out a cry when he sticks a pointer finger into your drenched hole to stretch you out more.

“i’m gonna cum!” you sob, a tear trickling down your cheek. he hums, intensifying the way he’s suckling at your swollen bud. shaking from the pure overwhelming sensation, your cum leaks beautifully onto his tongue.

“such a pretty pussy.” he whispers, collecting the sticky mess. “tastes so fucking good.”

all you do is sit there. panting with your eyes crossed, twitching when you try to get back to your senses, and nothing more.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… would pull your ponytail every chance he got.

FUCK FACE

you’re fucking irritating

i’m a big girl and you’re not the boss of me

i don’t even know why i do what i do with you

is that right?

yeah, asshole

fuck off

i never want to see or speak to you again

who do you think you’re talking to?

can’t be me because you weren’t talking shit when you were screaming on my dick last night😂

womp womp life’s tough

you ain’t all that anyway

i’m sick of your fucking attitude

get over it

you’re not going to do shit about it so🤷‍♀️

it’s like your scalp is on fire. the stinging makes you hiss, eyes shutting from the pleasurable pain. chris has you stiff under his weight, your ponytail wrapped tightly around his fist to keep your head in place. your ass is arched against his pelvis, meeting his brutal thrusts that are pounding into you with no mercy. his balls slap against your clit as your cheeks bounce back onto him.

guiding your head down, he gives you a smack on the ass. you moan and grip the pillow for dear life, your body pushing against the corner of your l-shaped couch. ironically you’re wearing one of his t-shirts, the hem being scrunched up at the small of your back.

your knuckles are white, feeling like you can rip the pillow in half at any second if you’re not careful. the couch bangs against the wall, and you thank god that both of your parents had work today.

“said i wasn’t going to do anything about it.” chris mocks with a chuckle. “now look at you. fucking stupid in the head.”

the tip of his cock hits that spot repeatedly inside you, causing a moan louder than the others to leave your lips. “oh, right there!” you scream, it being muffled before he starts to go impossibly faster. you try to crawl away from his grip, but instead, he grabs your chin to lift your upper body to where your head rests on his shoulder. at this angle, he thrusts upward into your pulsating pussy.

eyes rolling back, you bite your lip that’s wet from spit. “you need to cum? hm?” he coos, moving a piece of sweaty hair out of your face. you nod, unable to get words out.

he tuts before pulling out, making you gasp and fall forward. “that’s too bad. should’ve thought twice about that before picking up an attitude with me.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… at family parties, you’d never liked to see.

different aromas of cookout food flood your nostrils, the plate in front of you still full. you fidget the steak with your fork, your other hand gripping the edge of the picnic table. you’ve been trying to avoid eye contact with everybody since you sat down. what you are looking at is what’s happening under the tablecloth.

chris’s fingers pump deliciously into your sopping pussy, knuckle deep and covered in your wetness. originally, you weren’t wearing panties under your dress — upon his request.

fighting every fiber in your body to not make it obvious, you lean your head on his shoulder and exhale. “looks like you two sorted out the childhood banter.” one of your relatives jokes, looking at you cuddled up in the crook of his neck.

he continues talking nonchalantly to the guests when all of a sudden his fingers curl. it makes you jolt, the boy adding his thumb to rub on your clit for more pressure. that alone took you by surprise. giving him pleading eyes, you started to tremble, and before you knew it juices smeared all over his digits.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… you would scream at so loud that he'd have to cover your mouth when people were around.

patience runs thin with him, as you’re fully aware of. first, he snuck you in, and now he’s fucking you on his bedroom floor. matt and nick are home, having no idea what their brother is up to.

jesus. the way he’s fucking into you is different this time around. your legs wrap around his waist, and his thrusts are deep and hard. you engulf his dick perfectly, and he adores that.

covering your mouth with his hand, your sounds of pleasure are muffled, and you still seem to be too loud. your back is arched halfway off of the ground, his cock slamming into you at just the right spot. he removes his palm, taking your wrists and pinning them above your head. chris kisses you hungrily, your moans going down his throat. “shit.” he drags out, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

whimpering loudly, he kisses you again to swallow it. “shush, baby. you have to be quiet. you don’t want matt and nick to know how much of a cock whore you are for me.”

“but you feel too good!” you whine, eyes crossing when your g-spot starts to get abused with his length. he buries his head in the crook of your neck, releasing your wrists from his grasp to grip the back of your hair instead, pulling you as close as possible to him. your body lifts off of the floor slightly.

clenching repeatedly around him, it makes his dick twitch. “fuck, do that again. atta girl.” letting out a choked moan, you feel ropes of cum paint your insides. that alone sends you over the edge, a ring of white smearing around his girth. you clasp your hand over your mouth to silence your scream.

although, he doesn’t stop. he lays you back flat on the wooden panels, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. your feet dangle beside his head, his throbbing cock still pumping deep inside you. you cry out his name before he shoves two fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, but most importantly to shut you up.

eyes scanning your body, he’s taken aback. there’s a bulge protruding in your abdomen each time his skin slaps against yours. your belly is swollen from his previous orgasm, his hips stuttering at the sight. it’s insanely hot to him.

face all fucked out, your brain starts to fog, stars overcoming your vision. “take my cock. just like that.” he says, glancing down at where you’re conjoined. you’re cumming once again without warning once he hits your cervix, too brain-dead to even realize what’s going on anymore. you slobber around his digits, moaning and whimpering around them.

“might have to fuck a baby in you.” he blurts out, groaning as his muscles tense. “stuff you full of me. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

nodding, even though at your state you don’t truly know what you’re nodding to, he pushes fully into you and stays put. his seed fills you for the second time now, and you can feel every drop on your insides.

with each string, he groans as he milks himself dry. he empties your mouth from his fingers and collapses next to you on the cold floor, his cum oozing beautifully out of your used sex.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎… all this time had a crush on you… but you never have to know that.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws

[marvelsswansong]

perfectly poisonous pair

summary: the three times Coriolanus realizes you're his perfect match, his eternal soulmate: darkness and all.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and dark soft!Corio with equally unhinged reader (an anon previously said morticia x gomez addams vibes), fluff, violence, non-canon compliant, CW for graphic descriptions of violence, kidnapping, murder, possessive/dark thoughts - please take care of yourself first!

☆ word count: 6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Marriage is, at first instance to Coriolanus, an institution and an act that he doesn't quite see the point of.

The legal and financial benefits, sure. But committing himself to one person, to be bound to them body, heart and soul for the rest of his life? That level of vulnerability and permanence feels too foreign. Too abstract, even, that thinking about it quickly makes his stomach churn with sickness.

Coriolanus spends the majority of his upbringing, consoling himself that he doesn't have the time to worry about such things as romance. After all, there was always the next bill to pay and the next threat of eviction to dread.

Not to mention, he thinks, no one will truly ever get him. Not even grandma'am or Tigris understands his inner being. The man deep within his guts, the cunning voyeur who enjoys violence and manipulation. And if they only knew, he believes, they'd be horrified.

No one really knows Coriolanus for who he is. And no one will truly be able to understand what it's like to feel and think like him.

So marriage is completely out of the question for him.

At least for a long time.

Until he meets you.

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

the beginning: "must be a coincidence."

You're the first person (other than the wide-eyed idealist, Sejanus) to treat Coriolanus with kindness at the academy.

You come in as a transfer student mid-way through the semester and he comes to notice the small ways with which you show your appreciation for him. Slyly backing up his answers in class discussions. Smiling at him in the hallways. Sticking up for him in conversations, not caring if the others give you odd looks for defending a 'clear outsider' amongst them.

"If you ever need anything, you can always count on me." you'd once told him after school, his knees barely brushing against yours in the car you've invited him into so that he wouldn't have to walk home in the freezing cold.

Suppressing the urge to interrogate the reasoning behind your kindness, his numb fingers felt sudden warmth when you delicately placed a crumbled up note into his fist with your address in it.

"Stop by whenever you need something. Don't suffer alone, okay?"

He never takes you up on your offer.

At least, not until a few months later, when he finds himself knocking on your door late at night. Three in the morning to be precise, with a busted lip and dark red stains blossoming across his white shirt.

And when you open the door, you don't react to his disheveled state in the same way he'd expect from his family. No pity and shock like grandma'am, nor is there a trace of light apprehension and fear like there would be from Tigris.

Instead, your eyes crinkle with kindness as you invite him inside your home and sit him down on a nearby chair in the living room.

"How bad is it?" you ask, cutting him off with a stern glare before he can lie. "And don't lie to me, Snow. I need to know if you're going to need a drive to the hospital instead of my attempts at first aid."

Sighing, the blonde gives in, his bones aching too much to put up a fight.

"Not that bad, I promise." he grumbles, trying to keep his breathing normal as you lean in closely to examine his injuries. At this proximity, he can see the reflection of the overhanging yellow lights in your irises, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration before you leave the room and return with a soft towel and warm bowl of water.

"Could you look up for me?" you question, your cold fingers steadying his neck to carefully crane it upwards.

The warm, wet fabric in your hands then trace the edges of his jaw, picking up the droplets of blood scattered across his face.

Keeping his eyes forward at the line of bookshelves by the fireplace, time seems to slow down. His senses are overwhelmed by your hairwash - rosemary and vanilla, he thinks - and the room is awfully quiet. All he can hear is the muted sounds of your soft breaths and the rustling of leaves outside, the pale moonlight creeping in through the gaps of the floral curtains in the dead of December.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?" you ask, now switching your attention to the trail of blood buried into the crevice of his neck. You cringe right afterwards, almost wincing at your audacity. "Sorry, you don't have to say if you don't want to."

If anything, it just makes him smile. He likes seeing you embarrassed, he thinks.

"No, it's fine. I'll say. It was just... a party gone awry. Felix managed to convince everyone to go downtown."

You frown at the mention of the downtown area - it was common knowledge that it wasn't safe to wonder the south of the Capitol this late at night, especially if you were obviously from central.

"And then?"

"Got jumped. Felix and his friends ran away quickly. Sejanus got caught up in the mix and I couldn't just... leave him."

Coriolanus hates admitting the slightest sign of weakness, that perhaps he had a friend he cares for, so he's eternally glad that you don't dwell on it. Humming in response, you squeeze the towel in your hands, the water below now a murky shade of brown.

"And how much of this blood is your own? Do I need to get the sewing needles out?"

"I-"

His response is staggered by brief flashes of the fight playing in his mind. He recalls there being a lot of heavy breathing and fast movements. A slash there. A broken nose there. His feet driving down onto the man's chest repeatedly, down, down, down - he hears bones cracking at some point and Sejanus is suddenly pulling him backwards, begging him to stop but Coriolanus can't-

"Coriolanus."

Your voice snaps him out from his dazed state. He then swallows nervously, not knowing how much is safe to disclose.

"I'm fine. Really. Just some bruises and a split lip. The blood is from dodging a few knife attacks and the criminals stabbing one another."

It's a half-truth, really. Coriolanus had dodged a few stabs his way, but only because he tripped the man charging him and grabbed the knife instead to drive it into the man's sides. Enough to severely wound, but not kill. He feels the soles of his left shoe drag on the floor, the fabric nearly coming off from the repeated force with which he'd stepped on the other accomplice's ribs. It makes his jaw clench with embarrassment.

If you notice it's a lie, you don't say anything.

You ask him if he can undress, so that you can wash his clothes for him. After all, you tease in a lighthearted manner in an attempt to lift the mood, you still have school tomorrow at eight.

"You can leave the dirty clothes hanging by the chair outside the bathroom. I think you're overdue for a long, hot shower."

All arguments die in Coriolanus' mouth when he realizes how nice this feels. The foreign comfort of being cared for by someone else, of having his guard down and following someone else's lead for once. So he wordlessly follows you to the bathroom in the back and discards of his dirtied clothes outside.

The hot water is a nice luxury, the scalding temperature starting to erase his memories of the fight. He rubs his scalp raw and watches the water beneath his feet fade into the drain, the steady dripping of water droplets calming his mind.

When the blonde finishes, he comes out and sees that you've folded a set of new, clean clothes for him by the door of the bathroom (your father's old clothes, he learns). Once changed, he wanders outside and finds you hanging the freshly washed clothes outside on your front lawn.

"You should go home, Corio." you say quietly. "Your cousin and grandmother must be worried sick." you look back at him, a reassuring smile on your face.

"How... how can I ever repay you for all this?" he finds himself asking, desperate for an answer. Surely, you'll want something back for this. Certainly, this was all to get something back from him-

You shake your head sideways, waving your hand in dismissal.

"There's no need to repay me. I like to think you help me out every day at school, so think of this as more of... a much delayed gift."

Once you're both back inside the house, no longer shivering from the cold, he finds the silence to be oddly tense. You're in your sleepwear, after all, a silky night dress stopping right above your knees with a gray knit cardigan on top.

He swallows, nervously. He hopes you can't tell how fast his heart is beating.

"Uh, thank you. Seriously. I owe you."

"You really don't."

"I really do."

You roll your eyes playfully.

"The only person who owes me anything is Felix. He shouldn't have suggested you all go to downtown when it's dangerous, and he especially shouldn't have left you and Sejanus to nearly get stabbed to death." you spit, and your angry expression makes him chuckle.

"Ah, well, but he is the president's son. What can we do." he jokes. A small grin flickers onto your lips for half a second at that comment.

"So he is. Good night, Corio. I'll see you tomorrow."

It's initially an uneventful day for Coriolanus the next morning when he walks into the academy, naturally catching your eyes from across the room. You give him a reassuring nod from behind the door of your locker, where the majority of your attention is being held up by an overeager Felix - your assigned partner for the week.

Due to his schedule, Coriolanus doesn't see you again until lunch time. By which the newest rumor sweeping the academy has been the sudden violent illness which has fallen upon the president's son.

"I heard he was puking blood." he hears Clemensia whisper to Arachne, who nods furiously.

"Sejanus had to carry him to the medic's office - Felix looked like a half-dead ghost."

He's itching to speak to you as he quickly rounds the corner and runs up the flights of stairs leading to the library, where he's shared many lunches with you before. He knows your favorite sport by heart, that being the cozy seat under the large arched windows overlooking the front lawn.

As expected, he finds you there, sitting cross legged and gazing out towards the lawn. Upon closer inspection, he sees that you're watching Felix get escorted into a dark vehicle, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Have you heard that Felix is sick?" Coriolanus carefully asks, sitting down from across from you. You turn to him, your face scrunching up in sadness.

"Yes I have. Terrible news, really. Something about nasty nausea and uncontrollable vomiting."

Your tone is sympathetic and your face has all the features of genuine worry, but there's a small twinkle in your eyes that indicates a secret.

It makes Coriolanus delirious with want.

"And would his illness have anything to do with you being close to him as his project partner?" he questions, sliding in closer towards you to keep his voice down.

He looks down at your lips then back up at you, smirking.

"Just seems strange, don't you think? Given that he seemed just fine last night?"

A half-second smile, you shrug.

"Must be a coincidence."

He kisses you right then and there.

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

the point of no return: "you're quite a messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Finding you is a miracle to him.

And now that you two are officially dating, he sees the glimmer of hope for something permanent like marriage in the future.

But Coriolanus is still unsure of the publicity of that kind of arrangement, which leads him to request that you two keep the relationship under wraps. At least until graduation, he justifies, to keep the romance hidden away from the judging eyes of the faculty and fellow classmates.

You don't seem the least bit bothered by the news, your lips only quirking up into a warning smile as you tease that you may then have to bring other men as dates to public events to save face.

At the time, he'd just shrugged at that, playing it cool. "I don't get jealous easily." he'd said confidently.

Oh, how he was wrong.

It's only after he becomes your boyfriend that he becomes acutely aware of and sensitive to how desirable you are to others. Visitors to the academy flirt with you openly, not knowing that Coriolanus is watching from the background, fuming with anger. Your male classmates are too eager to carry your books for you, their body leaning ever too close towards yours when you ask them to pass on the papers in class.

But this, right now, seeing you with another man at the spring gala... It feels different.

Those people, the strangers and classmates, you let down firmly but gently. Those people, you wouldn't even let their hands hover above your skin, always placing a firm distance between you and them. Those people-

Fuck.

You didn't smile at those people like you're smiling at this date of yours. The tall, dark haired man's arm is lingering just above your waist, too close for Coriolanus' comfort, and his thoughts turn lethal when the man leans down to whisper something in your ear that seemingly makes you laugh.

It takes everything within him to not lose control then, when Sejanus speaks up.

"You alright?"

His friend's voice cuts into the tirade of violent thoughts playing in Coriolanus' mind, the whiskey starting to taste sour in his mouth. Forcing another sip of alcohol, he meticulously coaches himself to nod along, feigning disinterest in you and the mystery man.

"Just fine, Plinth." he grits out, but with his steely blue orbs not deviating from where you and your date are standing, it's obvious to any bystander that he's lying. So Sejanus chuckles, nudging the blonde playfully.

"Yeah right. Though, I'm not surprised that (Y/n) brought him along." Sejanus takes a sip of his wine, before pausing at seeing the blonde's expression remain hardened. "You do know who he is, right?"

"Am I supposed to?" Coriolanus scowls.

"That's Harrison Bramford. His grandfather was one of the main generals back in the days of the war and his family single-handedly leads the weapons manufacturing industry in Panem."

"Hm." is all Coriolanus says in response, the revelation doing little to appease his anger. His left arm rises in a reflex to force more alcohol down his throat, only to find the glass half empty.

"I need another drink." he announces, not caring to hear his friend's response.

Sliding into the bar, he hears your soft laugh and whisper before you disappear into a nearby hallway, leaving your 'date' alone. Out of the corner of Coriolanus' eyes, whilst he leans forwards and pretends to watch the bartender grabbing him another glass of whiskey, he sees the tall dark haired man also beelining towards the bar.

"Vodka on the rocks." Harrison growls, nearly slamming his glass down onto the counter. It's only then that Coriolanus lets himself look into the man's light green eyes, taking care to keep his expression fairly neutral and his voice calm.

"Rough night?" Coriolanus asks, deciding to play the unassuming role of a concerned stranger. Harrison chuckles, wiping his hands on his thighs whilst shaking his head.

"You have no fucking idea. Women are such pieces of work."

The blonde tastes blood with how hard he bites his cheek in an effort to stay silent.

"Your whiskey, sir."

He's grateful for the interruption of the bartender sliding his drink down towards him, as with every word leaving your date's mouth, Coriolanus is feeling his rage boiling and threatening to spill over like toxic waste.

"This chick asked me to come here tonight, you know? Me. A Bramford. I put up with her annoying stories and stupid questions all night, I even held her fucking bag for her to go to the bathroom." the man rants, his skin starting to twinge red with how fast he was speaking. "But will she even let me kiss her? Nooooo. Apparently it's too quick. Wouldn't even let me grab her ass."

It's then that your boyfriend finally loses it, and there's a muted sound of something shattering and the feeling of something sticky and hot running down his right hand. There's a few gasps of shock, the bartender hurrying over with a spare napkin as Coriolanus' blue eyes adjust to the blurry scene in front of him.

He's shattered the glass in his hand.

"Shit, you alright?" Harrison asks, leaning over to see and then pulling back with a disgusted expression after seeing the bloody sight. Remaining calm whilst pulling out the chunks of glass, Coriolanus chooses to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yep. Sorry, not used to..." he pauses, trying to find the right excuse. Instead, he finds a brilliant plan. "Not used to going so long without smoking."

The dark haired man nods in agreement, seemingly sympathizing.

"Ah, I get you. Nasty withdrawal symptoms, huh? Seen a lot of my buddies get them whenever they try to quit smoking."

Securing the makeshift tablecloth wrap around his injured hand, Coriolanus pushes his chair in with his legs, his uninjured hand strategically reaching into his pockets.

"I think I need a cigarette. Care to join?" he asks, already knowing the answer from the overwhelming scent of cigarettes spayed over the man's clothes.

"Why not."

Suppressing a smile, the blonde leads the drunken man out the door and far away from the venue, down a few shady alleyways and into narrow dirty streets crowded by graffiti and trash bags.

"Uh... you sure this is the right way?" the man behind nervously asks, and Coriolanus almost wants to roll his eyes at how pathetic he finds the man's fear.

"Don't worry, Bramford. Just avoiding the 'no smoking' signs and security guards by the venue."

Once the blonde is sure that they're both sufficiently far away from the venue, at a dead end alleyway sandwiched between a run down bike shed and abandoned dumpsters, he stops in his tracks. Coriolanus then uses the split second of confusion felt by the other man to strike him directly in the chest, forcing the taller man's entire body down.

Grabbing the nearest object next to him - a wooden crate- Coriolanus smashes it into bits on the man's head, whose face is now pressed up against the dirty cement.

"You absolute piece of shit." Coriolanus swears, adrenaline pumping through his veins in irregular rhythm as his boot kicks into the pained man's ribs repeatedly. "You disgusting, vile, privileged piece of shit."

Each insult is compounded by a stronger kick, the three glasses of whiskey and pure rage emboldening his thoughts and strengthening his attacks. Coriolanus thinks he may have heard a bone or two cracking, but he isn't sure. He can't even bring himself to care, not when his mind's fixation switches to the enticing sight of a broken glass bottle laying to his right, the jagged scars glistening under the moonlight. Coriolanus snatches it up in half a second, before pressing the edges of the makeshift blade against the whimpering man's throat.

"W-why are you doing this?" Harrison barely gets out, mouth already filled with blood, his gasps stuttered in pain.

The blonde only chuckles, his left knee coming down to press the man further into the ground, right hand beginning to trace the edge of the glass down the man's neck.

"Because, Bramford. You denigrated the love of my life. You dare try and place your filthy hands on her. Hell, for the crimes of your family and your disgusting behavior tonight, I should do the Capitol a favor and ki-"

"That's enough, Corio."

Your boyfriend nearly drops the bottle in his hand out of shock at hearing your voice ring out from behind him, the development so unexpected that for a second he almost wonders if he's hallucinating. But no, when he tilts his head backwards, he sees as clear as day you standing there with an amused grin on your face.

"Darling, I-" Coriolanus begins, stepping back up carefully and setting the glass bottle aside (but far away from Harrison's reach).

You just shush him, that ever-so-understanding twinkle in your eyes, your heels clicking on the uneven cobblestone as you stand with your body right up against his.

"I warned you about this, you know." you sigh. Coriolanus frowns, confused.

"What?"

"That you'd be jealous. He's just a toy, love. Nothing happened nor was ever going to happen tonight." you assure him, taking his uninjured hand in yours and squeezing it in comfort. You frown at the sight of his other bloodied hand, but he waves it off as an explanation for a later time.

"It's not that I don't trust you, petal. It was just... this scumbag was speaking about you in a revolting manner. I just couldn't contain myself." he slowly explains, a mix of guilt for being caught and anger for not being able to finish his actions creeping in. "He deserved it."

"Not denying that, love." you assure him again, smiling. "But goodness... What a mess you've made. You're quite the messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Coriolanus then can only watch, mesmerized, as you walk up next to Harrison's squirming body on the floor. Crouching down next to the man, you tut, as if you're saddened by the sight in front of you.

"Here's what's going to happen. We'll do you the favor of making it looking like you had too many drinks and got robbed. We'll take your wallet and expensive jacket. You'll survive, only a few major injuries but nothing life-threatening, and that's the story you'll tell your father and his friends." you pause, letting out another sigh, as if explaining this whole ordeal is tiring you. "In return, I will keep quiet about your nasty drug addiction to your father. One more strike and you're out, as your daddy said, so let's not aggravate him further. Deal?" you ask, smiling sweetly.

When the man stays silent, only letting out pained breaths in response, your right hand snaps out to press his face further into the concrete.

"I said, do we have a fucking deal, Bramford?"

Coriolanus finds himself completely transfixed by the attractive sight playing out in front of him: your pretty face scrunched up in fury, your delicate fingers dipped in blood as the man beneath you pathetically sobs and agrees. You then smirk, harshly dropping the man's head back down. Your boyfriend is by your side immediately, taking off the man's jacket as you pocket the wallet, your eyes finding Coriolanus' once more.

"I think I'm in love with you." the blonde confesses, the words coming out faster than he'd anticipated. It's a mix of things that causes the sudden confession, the adrenaline from having beaten a man nearly to death, the way your hair is being caressed by the harsh winds, the smell of your sweet perfume mixing with the harsh stench of copper in the air...

It's all making him dizzy and lovesick.

But all you do is roll your shoulders back and chuckle, kissing him quickly on the lips.

"I know."

But, Coriolanus thinks, you can't know - the real depths of his love, the unbridled fire now lapping at his skin, the overwhelming desire to claim you as only his.

And when he finally comes back home, he digs through his cabinets and finds the family ring. Swallowing thickly, he stores it in a small jewelry box and tucks it right underneath his bedroom's windowsill.

One day, he knows. He'll marry you.

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

the final act: "sorry for worrying you."

He'd meant to propose sooner.

He really did.

But then the games happened, his victory came with the assistant position to Dr Gaul and a full ride scholarship to university from the Plinths, and you'd be called away to District 2 to assist on your family's business operations.

Coriolanus missed you, fiercely. No amount of blurry phone calls and monthly visits lasting no more than the short weekend could satisfy his ache for you. Your melodic laugh. Your soft touch. Your witty observations and jokes, your soft breathing on his chest when he'd hold you at night.

But it's necessary, you'd remind him, lips trailing across his cold skin. It was how you and him were going to conquer the Capitol. Together.

On an assuming Tuesday in April, on the day you were due to arrive in time for Tigris' birthday, the phone rang in the mansion. The housekeeper, mid-way through dusting the library in preparation for your arrival, had come running into Coriolanus' room without even knocking. He'd woken up bleary eyed, a few swear words of annoyance on the tip of his tongue, all of which dissipated upon seeing the alarmed look on the housekeeper's face.

"It's for you, sir. Says it's urgent."

Brows furrowing, but not thinking anything much, Coriolanus answers the phone.

"Coriolanus Snow speaking." he mutters into the receiver, eyes still foggy from the remnants of sleep. The voice on the other end chuckles, a dark and pompous sound which makes him scowl in annoyance.

"Mr.Snow... when was Miss (L/n) set to arrive in the Capitol?"

The sinister question jolts the blonde awake immediately, a quick glance at the clock hanging by the door confirming his worst fears. It was four am, at least three hours past the time you were set to arrive.

"Is this a ransom call?" Coriolanus growls into the phone, his fingers clutching the receiver so tight his knuckles were beginning to redden. Teeth aching with how tensely he's clenching his law, his frantic eyes find the housekeeper's worried ones, before he urgently signals for the older woman to fetch the guards roaming the front of the property.

The stranger on the other side only chuckles in response, clearly gleeful at the distressed sound of Coriolanus' voice.

"I'm not sure, Mr. Snow. Would you like to perhaps ask her instead?"

The string of curses and violent threats bubbling under his throat never get spoken when he hears the sudden shuffling of feet and muffled arguing on the other side of the phone, before your voice fills his anxious ears.

"Hi, Corio."

Huh.

You seem awfully relaxed for someone taken as hostage.

Yes, he recalled having numerous discussions with you about such a scenario occurring once Coriolanus' status was elevated in the Capitol and you'd agreed to take on some share of the family business. And your boyfriend also knew that you'd grown up training in archery and fencing, so it wasn't as if you were wholly unprepared to defend yourself.

But still, it shocks him how your voice is completely aloof and calm, with even a hint of a smile at the end of your sentences.

"Hi, darling. Are you alright?" he carefully responds, pondering if you are perhaps being held at gunpoint and forced to speak in an unnatural manner. But you just hum in response, the same noise you'd make if he'd asked you something simple like what you wanted on your toast, nonchalant as ever.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Just don't forget to water the lilies, they get very temperamental this time of the year. Wouldn't want a repeat of last April, now would we?" you joke, and Coriolanus feels himself slightly relaxing into the conversation.

"Of course not."

"And don't forget you promised me pancakes the moment I came back to the house. I've been missing your banana pancakes dearly."

He can almost picture your smile at that comment.

"Well then... you should hurry back soon." he calmly responds, only for the phone to then be ripped away from you and the stranger's voice returns - grating and aggravated. Coriolanus can tell that your kidnapper is frustrated and dumbfounded by your seemingly calm disposition and mundane conversation with your boyfriend, a revelation which fills him with great satisfaction.

"If you still want her alive, leave a suitcase of $20,000 by the coordinates sent to you. You have two hours."

As if on cue, the housekeeper rushes back in with a note - tied to a bird sent over to the house, she says - and the security team behind. Unravelling the coordinates written onto the piece of paper, and looking back at the clock, Coriolanus' mind whirls with endless possibilities.

Explaining the situation in brief, he directs three of the guards to go out into the location with a briefcase loaded with fake cash - one to drop off the bag, the other two to keep extensive watch to see who picks it up. The other two, he commands to stay by watch at the house.

Sitting in an unmarked van whilst staring at the spot where his security guard had placed the suitcase, Coriolanus' leg won't stop bouncing up and down.

He's riddled with anxiety and doubt, hating himself for being unable to protect you, worrying about your whereabouts. As even if you sounded awfully calm and capable on the phone, a part of him can't help but wonder if that was all for show, to prevent him from worrying too much.

A torturous hour passes before Coriolanus gets a call from the housekeeper.

"Sir, she's home."

He nearly drops the phone.

"What?"

"Miss (Y/n) is home. She is sitting in the kitchen, having a cup of tea as we speak."

It's a blur as Coriolanus commands the car to race back towards the house, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest as he bursts through the doors of the main hallway.

And there, calm as ever with a light grin on your face, is you.

You're sitting in his favorite velvet cushioned chair by the dining table. Your face smeared with blood, your clothes are torn and hanging in loose threads, and your hair is wet, red crimson droplets falling onto the floor in steady drips. And as the sun rises over the estate, the golden light illuminates your hairline and Coriolanus swears he sees a halo above your bloodied form.

"Hi, love. Sorry for worrying you."

Without a single word, he rushes over to you and nearly yanks you up to a standing position, backing you up against the wall to kiss you fiercely. Your knees almost buckle from the force with which he grabs your neck, his shaky breaths so desperate, his hooded eyes still looking into yours as his left hand suddenly shows a ring box in his hand.

"Marry me, darling."

You blink twice, surprised at the sudden action, as he chuckles and laces his fingers with yours - blood on blood.

"We're perfect for each other. You are my soulmate, my perfect pair: body, heart and soul. Truthfully, I've had the ring with me for almost two years now, but it never felt... quite right." he pauses, taking in your shaky, happy smile. Your cold hands warming in his embrace. "Not until now. You're the one for me."

"Even if I bleed all over your kitchen?" you croak, as he slides the cool metal onto your ring finger, before kissing your bruised knuckles.

"Especially if you bleed over my kitchen. As long as it's not your own blood, of course."

It's you who closes the gap this time, nearly tackling him with the force with which you kiss him, arms encircling around his back. Smiling into the kiss, he tastes the mix of your strawberry lipgloss and the metallic hint of blood on your lips, an intoxicating combination.

When you two finally part for air, the silver band now glistening on your ring finger, Coriolanus chuckles.

"Now, would you like those banana pancakes?"

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

epilogue: "nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

"I think I'm starting to see a gray hair. on you, Corio."

Your husband scowls at the playful joke in the bedroom mirror, standing up to straighten his tie as you get changed in the walk-in closet.

"Please, I'm barely 30. Are you sure you're not hallucinating, darling?" he fights back, and you peek out half-dressed from the closet, pouting.

"You're questioning my eyesight now? How could you be so cruel."

Your faux sour expression is quickly kissed away by two cold hands cupping your cheeks, and you would've lost the balance in your heels had he not steadied you immediately, his hands dropping to your waist.

"Aw, I'm sorry, petal. Will you ever forgive me?"

You pretend to think about it, cocking your head sideways.

"That would depend."

"On what?"

"Mom! Dad!"

Your snarky response is cut off by the sound of small feet pattering on the marble floor, the front doors swinging open as a small figure runs straight to you and crashes into your legs. A spitting image of you and Coriolanus, your daughter, looks up from your knees before grasping onto her father's hand.

"Up, please."

Clearly amused by the sudden burst of energy in the room and his daughter's politeness even in moments of silliness, he crouches down and picks up the squealing child who comfortably settles into his arms.

"Guess what."

"What is it, honey?" you ask, brushing the stray hair out of her eyes.

"I got the highest score in my entire class on my math test."

"Wow, that's incredible, sweetheart." Coriolanus practically melts on the spot, bouncing the child up and down as she giggles into his neck. "You are the smartest person ever, Belle."

"Not as smart as mommy." she sasses in response, looking up at you for approval. You coo, ruffling her hair affectionately before looking up at your husband with raised eyebrows.

"See, Corio? Even our daughter is kinder to me than you are."

He rolls his eyes in response, left hand sneaking out to pull you in close as his lips kiss the top of your head.

"Nonsense. I love both my girls equally." he says, only for the picture perfect moment to be interrupted by another figure rushing into the room.

"Mrs Snow, the car's just arrived for you by the fr-" the intern freezes in his steps, having clearly caught the Snow family at a private time. You of course don't mind, just being amused by the situation, and your daughter is just curious at the new person who just walked in. All the while, Coriolanus' reaction couldn't be more different, his glare sharp and mean.

"I thought I made it clear, I don't want to ever be disturbed when I'm with my family. Unless it's an absolute emergency." Coriolanus states, his tone icy and unforgiving.

By the furrowing of his eyebrows and the cold stare in his eyes, you can already anticipate the flurry of murderous thoughts filling his head before you cut in. After all, the interrupting intern, a 17 year old boy by the name of Elijah, is only trying his best. And you find him oddly endearing and sweet, particularly with how badly he tries to impress your husband.

"It's fine, Elijah. Please ignore my husband's rude comment. I'll be right out."

Setting your daughter down, Coriolanus leans forward and growls into your ear, watching the young boy scatter away quickly.

"You're too nice to him, darling. Don't you think we should dispose of him and get a new intern...."

You slap his shoulder.

"What do I always tell you? No need to create unnecessary messes. Besides, he's really good with Belle and easy to control."

He smirks at that, irises filled pink.

"You're probably right. Can't have another bloody mess on your hands to clean up."

"Or vice versa."

He leans in close, cold lips touching your forehead.

"Nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

And he truly means it.

a/n: andddd that's another major Corio fic down! thank you to everyone who showed me love on my last Corio oneshot ("melting snow") and for those who answered my poll - dark soft! and possessive Corio won out but girldad!Corio also got a TON of love so I included it a bit here and will probably write a whole standalone fic with girldad!Corio as the concept. thank you again to everyone for remaining patient, I had writer's block for a bit and I've just had the most awful few weeks ever (mental health wise and life wise) so it was difficult to find moments to write.

as always, please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you enjoyed. the interactions is what motivates me to write! I hope you liked it hehe x

[yuujispinkhair]

sukuna who's over heels with y/n, but y/n is stupidly in love with yuuji who is falling in love with megumi?!

Omggg I love this!!!! Thank you for sending me this 💗

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female)

Fluff. Hurt & Comfort. Friends to lovers. 2k words. Unrequited love/pining in the beginning. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end (Yuuji gets his happy end with Megumi). Mentions of cigarettes + alcohol. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna can only shake his head at the irony. He is in love. He is fucking in love for the first time in his life, and of course, it has to be someone he cannot have! Out of everyone at this stupid college, it has to be the girl who likes his brother!

If it were any other guy, Sukuna wouldn't give a fuck and just flirt like hell with the girl he wants and give his best to steal her away from that other guy. But the problem is that Itadori Sukuna might be an asshole, but he isn't the type of asshole that would steal his brother's girl.

So Sukuna swallows down his heartbreak and forces himself to hold back, refusing to stand in the way of his baby brother's happiness. Sukuna might only be three minutes older, but he is still the big bro, still the one who sees it as his responsibility to look after his "little" brother. And Yuuji deserves it. He deserves a girl like you. He deserves your love. Sukuna will stay strong. He can do it.

But what Sukuna didn't take into account is how completely oblivious his brother is to your feelings.

You follow Yuuji around like a lost puppy, giving him hearteyes, practically swooning anytime he smiles his sunshine smile, hanging on his lips when he talks about his movie-directing classes and his new favorite TV show. But Yuuji doesn't seem to notice. And it makes Sukuna so mad! It drives him crazy! He almost spits his drink out when his brother gives you a high five and calls you "bro".

Sukuna feels sick to his stomach when he watches you wring your hands and shyly ask Yuuji if he maybe wants to go to the cinema with you to see the newest Human Earthworm movie. That super trashy horror series that Yuuji is always gushing about, which Sukuna is 99% sure you don't really like but only want to endure for the boy you have a big crush on.

But Sukuna's oblivious idiot of a brother just laughs and nods, happy that someone shares his taste, and totally misses the point,

"Yes, that's perfect! Let's also ask Megumi and Nobara to join us! Let's all go together! It will be so much fun!"

Sukuna thinks he can not only feel his own heart ache but also yours as he sees your face fall even while you force yourself to nod bravely and smile a sad smile at Yuuji.

It takes everything in Sukuna not to say something. But his restraint only lasts until he is alone with his brother. The moment the others have left, he shoves Yuuji into the wall, grabs his collar, and growls at him,

"You are so fucking dumb, brat! I would give anything to be in your shoes, but you don't even see that she wants you!"

And Yuuji blinks at him, all big eyes and completely confused,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sukuna lets go of Yuuji, slumping against the wall next to him, sighing and explaining the situation to him. How Sukuna likes you, and how you like Yuuji, and how everything is such a mess, and how much he hates it, especially when his little brother is too blind to see what he could have!

"Now you know, brat. Go, get her. Just don't rub it in my face, ok? I'll stay away as much as possible."

Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, about to run away and hide in some dark corner or maybe find someone to fuck and distract him from all this shit. But to his utter surprise, Yuuji's hand darts out and grabs Sukuna's sleeve.

"Wait, Kuna! I don't even have those kinds of feelings for her! There is... um... well, there is actually someone else I like."

He stands there, scratching his neck, looking sheepishly at Sukuna and blushing a bit as Sukuna stares at him with question marks in his eyes.

"Who??"

"Um, he has black hair and likes dogs and... ah shit."

And Sukuna can't help it. He bursts out laughing, doubling over because this is just so fucking dumb and messy and getting more complicated every second, and he probably should have known!

"Damn, brat, that really sounds like you! Falling for your best friend!"

In the end, Sukuna plays matchmaker for Yuuji and Megumi. It's easy, considering the way Fushiguro has been looking at Yuuji since the first day he met him. And yeah, Sukuna is not only doing it because he loves his baby brother but also because of selfish reasons. Because it means you will have to let go of your crush on Yuuji. Not that Sukuna thinks you will turn to him, but at least he won't have to watch you date his brother and pretend he doesn't care!

It feels like someone is stabbing Sukuna's heart when he watches your face twist in pain at the next party when you see Yuuji walking into the room with Megumi's hand in his.

But it will be fine! After all, Sukuna is here to catch you and mend your broken heart again. As a friend, at least.

He quickly follows you when you leave the room and run towards the backyard. You sit down on the slightly damp grass, and Sukuna joins you, sitting silently next to you while tears run down your cheeks. Sukuna offers you his half-smoked cigarette, and when your eyes meet, he can't help but think that surely you must see the pain in his eyes, too.

He quickly takes a sip from the bottle he is holding to hide the emotions threatening to swallow him while silently cursing himself for following you out here. He misjudged how fucking hard it is to look at you when you are crying. If only Sukuna could just close the distance between you and claim you as his, just kiss all your pain and his pain away.

But of course, he knows it would be too soon. For once in his life, Sukuna doesn't just want to be a one-night stand or a rebound or a revenge fuck or whatever. For once in his life, he wants more. He wants everything.

And so Sukuna is patient. Just offers you his silent company, his cigarette, his bottle of vodka, and his leather jacket when it gets chilly, and you start to shiver. He offers you his friendship, his protection, and the kind of comfort he can give without fucking you. He drives you home, makes sure you have something to eat and get some sleep.

He bangs on your door three days later when you still haven't come back to campus, calling you a brat and an idiot because it's the only way he knows how to show his worry. But he hopes he's making it better by shoving a vanilla latte and a bag with muffins from your favorite coffee shop into your hands.

Your eyes look puffy from crying, and you seem confused about what he is doing here, but you take the food and coffee from him. And Sukuna smirks at you and refuses to leave when you tell him you look like hell and don't want him to see you like that.

"I don't care, princess. Eat those damn muffins and drink your latte before it gets cold. I didn't stand in line for half an hour for you to just ignore my treats. And by the way, you always look pretty to me."

He stays until you had breakfast and took a shower, coming back to the living area with a soft,

"Thank you, Sukuna. It was nice of you to bring me muffins and coffee."

Sukuna finally leaves, lifting one tattooed hand to casually wave at you as if his heart isn't about to burst because he wants to pull you against his chest and hold you and tell you he can make you happy again.

He skips some of his classes and instead goes to the gym, working out like a madman and beating up a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think about how sad you looked and how fucking much he wants to kiss it better.

He comes back the next day to pick you up and take you to the coffee shop with him, making sure you leave the house and join the living again! It cannot be that you are crying your eyes out in your room all day!

"Stop complaining and get your bratty ass off the couch! It will be good for you to get some fresh air and shit. I am warning you if you don't put on shoes in the next 30 seconds, I will make you walk to the coffee shop in socks!"

Oh yes, Sukuna is good at this. Acting grumpy and playing the asshole while taking care of you and making sure you are ok. And somehow, you are the only one, apart from his brother, who can see right through him because you roll your eyes and laugh softly and tell him that he is the nicest asshole you have ever met.

The two of you fall into a routine where Sukuna picks you up every morning and has breakfast with you before he walks you to your first class. You constantly grow closer, and Sukuna feels his mask slipping more often around you. His typical arrogant smirk softens into a genuine smile. His snide comments turn into compliments. He isn't sure if he is doing it by accident or intentionally. Maybe he is only reacting to the way you act around him.

Because your gaze doesn't follow his brother anymore. Your face doesn't fall when you see Yuuji with Megumi. Your smile doesn't falter when you spot pink hair and realize it's the bad boy twin with the tattoos and not the good boy twin with the sunshine smile. Sukuna even feels like your smile is growing brighter when you look at him.

Could it be?

And he notices more things. Notices how you always sit so close to him now when he is at your dorm and you play video games against each other. How you always laugh at his jokes, no matter how sarcastic they are. Or how you look at him sometimes when you think he doesn't realize it. How your eyes get that dreamy little sparkle when Sukuna is sleepy, and his voice gets low and a bit raspy. How you get goosebumps on your arms when Sukuna puts his hands on your hips to steer you through a crowded room.

A few weeks later, Sukuna finds himself back at the same spot where all those weeks ago, it all began. Sitting next to you in the grass in the small backyard of your friend's dorm, where you cried when Yuuji broke your heart.

But tonight, you aren't crying. Tonight, you are smiling and throwing your head back, laughing at some dry joke Sukuna makes, looking so carefree and happy. Your shoulder is brushing against Sukuna's biceps, and your hand lands on his thigh, giving it a playful smack and staying just a little too long. And Sukuna can't help but say in that low voice, you seem to like so much,

"You are so beautiful."

For a split second, he feels his chest tense up, scared that he fucked everything up. Scared that he got it wrong and you still want his brother. Or maybe some other guy. Scared that you only see Sukuna as a good friend. Or that you only see him the way the whole campus sees him: as that sexy, asshole guy who is only good for casual sex and nothing more.

But then you turn your head to look at him, and Sukuna sees that soft expression in your eyes, the one he used to see on your face when you looked at his brother. But now it is for him, for Sukuna. And he simply knows without you having to spell it out. He knows that things have truly changed.

So, Sukuna decides to do what he wanted to do for a long time.

"I am sorry that you cried the last time we were in this backyard. But I am not sorry for why it happened. My brother is an idiot for not wanting you like that. But I am glad he is an idiot because otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do this..."

And Sukuna puts a hand under your chin, cupping it with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed while looking deeply into your eyes, checking one last time if he really got it right. You look at him with wide eyes, but you smile and nod softly as your gaze travels down to his lips.

And Sukuna sighs and presses his lips gently against yours, kissing you like he never kissed someone before, slow and gentle, as if he is scared you will break or slip through his fingers. A kiss with his eyes closed and his chest filling with a warmth he didn't know until now. A kiss into which Sukuna pours all the secret longing he felt for you for months, all the feelings he tried to hold back for his brother's sake and then for the sake of not fucking things up.

But finally, he doesn't have to hold back anymore. Because you chose him. You chose Sukuna. You are sitting here with him, with your hand in his hair and your lips moving slowly against his, a happy sigh and a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips.

The two of you only stop kissing when Sukuna's head is already spinning from the lack of oxygen. He pulls away only enough to grin at you and stroke your cheek with his thumb. And you smile back at him and whisper,

"I am glad, too, that Yuuji turned me down. Because otherwise I wouldn't have found out that it's his brother who is my perfect match. I wouldn't have found out that you, Itadori Sukuna, are the one I like the most out of everyone."

AAAHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭 Thank you so much for sending me this ask. I see Sukuna + unrequited love/pining and I lose my mind!! It's my weakness and makes me so so soft for him (even more than usual).

I hope you liked this little hurt/comfort story!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[luveline]

hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home 

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text. 

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me? 

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner? 

What kind of dinner my love  

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken 

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you 

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable 

What’s wrong??? 

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there 

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You don’t have to rush over.” 

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.” 

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?” 

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.” 

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?” 

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.” 

“You’re always good company, you loon.” 

“You what?” 

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.” 

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.” 

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?” 

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Spencer!” you laugh. 

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?” 

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.” 

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.” 

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear. 

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway. 

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.” 

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.” 

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?” 

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?” 

“It’s in my back.” 

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.” 

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.” 

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?” 

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise. 

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?” 

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.” 

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.” 

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.” 

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly. 

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised.