#or at least his best recreation of it
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enigmajaython · 2 years ago
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Belos WIP I may or may not finish
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bruciemilf · 2 years ago
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It would be funny if everyone thinks Thomas Wayne Jr is the biggest asshole except Bruce.
Bruce: Tommy isn't mean! It's just that not everyone gets his jokes! He can be really sweet!
Meanwhile Tommy is sharpening the butter knives at the gala into shivs.
I agree with this, but for me, it'd be way funnier if they were like catty sisters just waiting to claw the happiness from eachother
The reason Bruce is so lenient when the bat brats have fights, the way he reassures them that no, their sister or brother wouldn't rather rim satan than spend time with them, is because he lived all of this
You can't tell me Thomas Junior doesn't have " is that my fucking shirt" energy. You also can't tell me Bruce doesn't have " it looks better on me anyway" combatants
All I'm saying is, Bruce had to have his Goth gene from somewhere, and I doubt it's from Thomas " I wanna be a Victorian vampire so bad" Wayne
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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 month ago
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AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?
I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.
For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.
At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”
(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)
I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.
Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.
It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.
We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.
It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.
Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.
But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.
Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.
I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.
I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.
Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.
It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.
But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.
Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.
He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.
He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.
I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.
He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.
Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.
Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.
I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.
I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.
Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).
So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.
She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.
I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.
While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.
I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.
At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?
Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).
Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!
Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.
I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.
I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.
She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.
I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.
At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.
I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.
The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.
I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.
I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.
Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.
I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.
My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.
I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.
I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.
(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)
He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.
He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.
He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.
 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.
I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.
So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.
I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.
Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.
She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.
So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.
AITA?
----
Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)
(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)
My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!
It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"
Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!
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officialaemondtargaryen · 5 months ago
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Dinner & Diatribes
❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞
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Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.
Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.
Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.
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It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.
You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye. 
It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app. 
You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened. 
“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.
Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever. 
In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself. 
There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent. 
“So, I’m high.”
“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”
“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”
“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”
Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message. 
“That was weird as fuck, right?”
Then a sixth.
“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”
He finishes up with a seventh message.
“Unless you do…”
He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot. 
Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner. 
Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”. 
Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”
“Be there soon,” you reply with haste. 
It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out.  She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on. 
You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place. 
Finally, you knock. 
Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest. 
“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”
The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer. 
Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.  
Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him. 
“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.
The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.” 
“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.” 
“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.” 
He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him. 
However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”
Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.” 
You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval. 
“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.” 
You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen. 
There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals. 
“Water is fine,” you tell him. 
He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf. 
Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed. 
“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.
“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”
“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.
He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”
“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close. 
You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence. 
“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”
“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”
“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension. 
“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.” 
“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”
“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.” 
“I’m listening.”
“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.” 
“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”
“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully. 
“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”
Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.
There’s only one way this night ends.
It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now. 
“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.
His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it. 
The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering. 
It’s good. Better than most. 
Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile. 
“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”
The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter. 
“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin. 
“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side. 
“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.” 
“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.” 
“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”
“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”
For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.
“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”
His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?” 
“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”
“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.” 
“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”
Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.
It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts. 
Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 
His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands. 
“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”
He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. 
Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name. 
Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin. 
“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you. 
His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair. 
You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom. 
When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress. 
You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.
Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.
When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.
You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you. 
“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak. 
He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.
You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow. 
“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat. 
You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment. 
Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer. 
“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest. 
"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"
He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”
Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”
Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!” 
He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen. 
“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”
“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.” 
“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”
He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”
“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”
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werecreature-addicted · 1 year ago
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Oviposition with alien bf??? What would the process be like? And what does it feel like for both you and him?
His cock is a good size... almost human-like, save for the blue color and the pointed tip. There is a slit in the head of his dick wide enough for you to push two fingers inside of him if you had the impulse to do so. Wide enough for his eggs to push through into you.
People from his world don't really have recreational sex. They breed. he's enamored by the human Idea of fucking. He watches, enraptured as you moan and squirm in pleasure as he toys with your cunt. Human genitalia is fascinating, soft, and warm whereas his skin is slick and cool to the touch. He can't help but think that your human cunt- temperate and inviting would be the perfect place to lay his clutch.
He pushes into you in one fluid motion- his cock firm but still malleable, filling you like water. Your back is to his chest, one leg over his hips. Once the tip of his cock is pressed against your cervix he doesn't really thrust into you, but he'll stroke your clit lovingly since it's something you need for your human sex rituals.
"ready?" he asks, waiting for your consent. you nod. You feel thin tentacles press against your cervix, pulling you open. it's an odd feeling- painful but in the best way possible. His tentacles fuck you open until the tip of his cock can fit into you, fucking your womb directly.
You gasp and squirm but his arms are wrapped around you like a vice. keeping you locked on his cock. He whispers soothingly as he toys with your clit.
you can feel the base of his cock thicken as the first egg moves into you. He makes you cum at least three times as he fucks his clutch of eggs into you, once all of the eggs are pact into you he floods your womb with his cum, fertilizing them, and leaving you looking six months pregnant.
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gothhabiba · 11 months ago
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do you know where are the the best places or mosteffective to donate to help palestinians atm? like charities ect
In terms of direct aid it is better to give money directly to families in Ghazza than to a charity. Charities, governmental and nongovernmental organisations &c., are seldom able to use funds to distribute aid right now, as few trucks are getting through, and none to the north of Ghazza.
ETA on Charities in Ghazza:
Taawon Association (in partnership with the Bank of Palestine) are distributing hot meals in Ghazza.
The World Food Programme (WFP) is getting food parcels into Ghazza, though I can't find them sharing a more specific location anywhere. Donate here.
The Palestinian Children's Relief Fund (PCRF) is providing medicine, food, and water. Their website specifically mentions food relief in north, central, and south Ghazza, and water delivered to north and south Ghazza.
Direct aid to Ghazza:
Money given directly to families in Ghazza is used to help them cross the Rafah crossing into Egypt, and/or to purchase plane tickets and apply for visas so they have somewhere to go after arriving in Egypt.
Help Christians in Ghazza get visas to leave
Help Hala Abu Ramadan's family of six leave Ghazza (organized by Mohammed Samhouri, vouched for by @psychoticgerard)
Help Dr. Intimaa AbuHelou's family of 22 leave Ghazza (organized by professer Steve Tamari)
Help Shayma and her family of 16 leave Ghazza (organised by Fardowsa. You may remember a link to a paypal going around to help Shayma; however, paypal has frozen those funds)
Help Shaymaa's family of 13 leave Ghazza (organised by Shaymaa herself, who is in Canada)
Help Sanaa and her family of 5 leave Ghazza and establish themselves in Belgium (organised by Eyad M, vouched for by Motaz Azaiza)
Help sisters Duaa and Deena leave Ghazza and get medical treatment in Cairo (organised by Shereen Alhayek, @.littlestpersimmon's friend's acquaintance)
Help Ahmed (@90-ghost) and his family leave Ghazza via ko-fi, paypal, or gofundme (@unionfish is offering stickers and prints in exchange for donations)
Help a family of Ghazzan refugees in Egypt get medical care and relocate
Buy an e-sim for use in Ghazza
Interruption of arms sent to Israel:
Palestine Action targets arms manufacturers in the US and UK
Palestine Legal offers legal defense for those who get arrested &c. in the course of protest or sabotage on behalf of Palestine
If you have some barrier to donating or to buying e-sims yourself (someone looking through your transactions, no room on your phone for new apps, don't want to mess up the instructions, don't have time to keep up with what's being called for at the moment, literally whatever), I can buy e-sims and move funds on your behalf. My venmo is @gothhabiba; paypal paypal.me/Najia; squarecash $NajiaK; DM me for Zelle information. Feel free to leave a note about where you want it to go (specifically for e-sims; aid to people in Ghazza; &c.)
BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanctions)
You asked specifically about donations, but if you haven't looked into the boycotts being called for by the Palestinian Campaign for Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBI) and the Palestinian BDS National Committee (BNC), I urge you to do so.
BDS chapters in your locality may be calling for their own boycotts, so look into that as well. Think creatively about how to minimise purchase of boycotted goods (e.g., getting your union to refuse to shelve Israeli groceries).
Monday strikes
The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP) has called for weekly strikes on Mondays. Talk to your union or coworkers about strikes or work stoppages on Mondays, if you can. At least avoid making any purchases (goods, recreation, entertainment, food, &c.) on Mondays.
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hubriswest · 2 years ago
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currently screaming and wailing over these tags!!! @unidentifiedprimate YOU GET IT
not a lot of people talk about the line "what was it about meg that you loved" from bride. like why did he say that
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remi-thirsts · 7 months ago
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❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ❞
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pairing: r. suna x fem!reader summary: Headcanons abt ur man who loves to record his fav girl ! content: very suggestive, established relationship, (p -> v), oral (f + m receiving), fingering, pet names (baby), cursing, filming (consensual for both parties), teasing (when is suna not teasing?), lmk if I missed anything. (kind of a soft smut release since i'm not confident)
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✧ bf!suna who whips out his phone anytime you wear anything that's tight around your curves.
"Okay Rin, I'm coming out tell me what you think of this dress." He lets out an uninterested hum, because you've been in the store for at least two hours. You need a new dress for your cousin's birthday party.
When you walk out and give him a little twirl he immediately exits whatever game he was playing to pass the time and opens the camera app.
"Holy shit, look at that ass baby. Mmm and those pretty tits."
"Can you focus for like one second?
✧ bf!suna who sends you horny videos throughout the day, because he misses you.
dookie butt 😝💖 [1 video attachment] look what u do to me
you -boyyyy i'm at work rn -but holy fuck... you moan so loud that i had to turn my volume down and i think i got looks from people
dookie butt 😝💖 so.... no titties ?
you ding ding ding ! you win blue balls
dookie butt 😝💖 at least send me some ass 😒
✧ bf!suna has a whole ALBUM on his phone of videos of you two fucking.
✧ bf!suna loves watching that one video where it's so shaky and you can barely tell what's going on, but he knows. He was eating you out so good, he had you back arching off of the bed, and your toes curling. You couldn't even hold the phone properly like he asked you too. Being the meanie he is he continued to harshly suck on your clit and hit your g-spot with his, long, experienced, rough fingers even after you came. You ended up squirting all over his face..
✧ bf!suna LOVES to record his dick bulging in your belly. That's how he knows he's hitting it good.
✧ bf!suna comes up with all these ridiculous scenarios/roleplays that you always seem to agree to do with him. He records ALL of them.
✧ bf!suna saves every single nude you send him, because despite what you say he thinks you're beautiful all day everyday.
✧ bf!suna sends you Twitter links asking if you wanna recreate them. Anytime he watches them he can only think about you and himself.
✧ bf!suna has no shame and will watch your homemade videos even with his friends around.
"Damn, Rin whatever yer watching must be really interestin'!" Atsumu spits sarcasm at the EJP middle blocker.
"Way more interesting than you by a long shot." Suna calmly replies which pisses his friend off even more. The blond snatches Suna's phone. Only to hand it back seconds later with a flushed face, "Gosh yer a pervert, Sunarin, a pervert."
✧ bf!suna is like a photographer when you get a new lingerie set. He'll ask you to make different poses and stand at different angles so he can get "the best possible picture"
✧ bf!suna sends you audios of him moaning because he knows you love it.
dookie butt 😝💖 [1 audio attachment] :3
you RIN. I'M MELTING WTF U SOUND SO HOT
dookie butt 😝💖 u should send something back to show ur appreciation
you 🫡
✧ bf!suna never posts or shares your videos unless you ask him too, and the ones he does share with the internet are the ones where no one can see your faces.
✧ bf!suna all in all loves you and your beauty. Every single video he's recorded is proof of that. When you watch them, you notice the little things, like how he'll prop up a pillow for you, or how he'll quietly ask if it's okay for him to keep going and whatnot. Many would think that he's just horny all the time and doesn't care about you, but he does care. Way more than haters will realize.
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©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!
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illyrianbitch · 4 months ago
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One Summer
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Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.
Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol and recreational drugs (weed!), two friends with a past, a budding crush
Word Count: 4k
authors note: i’m excited to get this out hehe so pls ignore any mistakes/typos that i missed! 🫶🏻 happy end of summer!
Series Masterlist
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
It took you a second to register your surroundings.
You knew the house was bound to be nice. After all, Rhysand’s family was loaded. You’d seen it in pictures from previous vacations, in the ones Mor had sent you over past summers when you’d gone back home. But even then, you still hadn't prepared yourself enough. The house wasn't only large and fancy. It was cozy– lived in. And it was absolutely beautiful.
There were little touches everywhere—- knick-knacks and seashells, photo frames, and soft rugs that felt like clouds under your feet. From somewhere deeper in the house, you heard Feyre and Rhys laughing. They had arrived a few hours earlier, settling in and preparing the house for the rest of you. At least, that’s what they told you all.
You and Mor had your suspicions that their reason for such an early arrival was more about having an empty house to mess around in before the rest of you came. You could still hear Mor’s conspiratorial whisper in your ear, teasing about how Feyre and Rhys probably took advantage of the quiet to enjoy some uninterrupted time together.
"They probably wanted to get all the best spots first," Mor had joked on the drive over, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. You laughed, agreeing silently that Rhysand and Feyre's early arrival was likely more for their own pleasure than out of any noble desire to prepare the house.
From outside, the crunch of gravel under tires announced the arrival of Azriel and Cassian. You heard the low rumble of their car engine idling before it was cut off, followed by the slam of car doors and the muffled sound of laughter.
“C’mon, let me show you your room,” Mor said, placing down a few of her bags and gesturing with her perfectly manicured hand.
You followed her up a set of stairs, taking in the walls lined with art and framed photos. Each frame was unique, from sleek, modern designs to ornate, vintage styles. The artwork ranged from abstract paintings to intricate sketches— and interspersed among the art were photographs capturing various moments. It was easy to spot the ones Mor was in, her blonde hair standing in stark contrast against the raven black of Rhysand and his sister and the dark brown of Azriel and Cassian.
You stopped at one in particular, a photo of Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and Mor standing around a small, circular wooden table. You laughed.
Mor turned around at the sound, a frown on her face as her gaze flickered between you and the gallery before you.
“Oh my god,” she said, quickly backtracking a few stairs down. “Do not look at that.”
But it was too late. You leaned forward to inspect the photo more. Rhysand had braces, Cassian was sporting a terrible haircut, Azriel looked too tall for his frame, and Mor was mid-laugh, a piece of pizza hanging onto the metal outline of her own braces. You let out another laugh, cooing out a sweet Aww at your best friend.
She huffed beside you. ”I’m going to kick you out of this house if you keep staring at it.”
You flashed her a grin. “Aw, c’mon. I love it.”
Mor only gave you a blank look in response. She stayed still, raising an eyebrow impatiently as you grinned, eyes flickering between her and your newfound favorite photo. You reached into your back pocket, fingers grasping the edge of your phone. You itched to have the photo in your camera roll, to be able to send it to Mor as a joke whenever she failed to return your texts.
She registered the movement quickly, letting out a small sound of surprise.
"Absolutely not!”
Mor grabbed your arm before you managed to take a proper picture, pulling you up the stairs behind her as you laughed.
“You realize I can just take a picture later?”
”I’m taking that damn thing down,” she grumbled, “You’re enjoying it too much.”
You let her drag you along, still chuckling as you absorbed the surroundings. The house truly was a perfect blend of comfort and luxury, with wide hallways adorned with art and mementos, and an abundance of windows that flooded the space with natural light. It felt clean– dreamlike, even.
Turning a corner, Mor stopped, opening the door with a large gesture. You stepped inside, eyes widening at the open space. Sunlight poured in from the large windows and a small sliding door framed the ocean view perfectly.
”Oh my god,” you breathed. A sense of peace washed through you.
“I knew you’d love it,” she said with a satisfied grin. “Wait for the best part.”
She walked over and gently slid open the small door, your vision quickly registering the balcony connected to your room. You stepped out, the fresh ocean air hitting you immediately—bringing with it the soothing sound of waves and the tangy scent of salt. The view was breathtaking: an endlessly stretching out horizon with water sparkling under the midday sun.
You closed your eyes, reveling in all of the senses. You could almost feel the stress of the past few weeks melt away, a tangible sense of release rolling through your limbs. You didn’t need to think about grad school applications now, didn’t have to worry about buffing up your resume.
When you opened your eyes, you turned to find Mor watching you with a satisfied, giddy expression. “It’s like a little slice of paradise.”
“More than a little,” you mused as you took in the view before you. “Does everyone have a balcony?”
”Nope,” she replied, “I preferred the nicest shower. But Rhys and I figured you’d want easy access to outside for the same reasons Azriel picked his room.”
She mimicked bringing something to her lips and taking a drag.
You rolled your eyes but a laugh left your lips in spite of yourself. It took you a few seconds before her final words registered and your eyes trailed to the balcony beyond her shoulder, where another little door connected to the space.
Mor followed your movement.
”That’s Az’s room,” she clarified. “You share the balcony.”
”Oh,” you said. Mor gave you another smile. “Cool.”
She let out a small shriek of excitement, grabbing you in a quick hug. “God, I’m so excited for this summer. I get to tan, listen to some music, hang out with my favorite people and get pissed faced drunk.”
”All of your favorite things.”
Her grin grew on her red-painted lips. “Exactly.”
She paused, eyes widening as she dropped her hands from around you, taking a step back as she said, “We need to get drinks!”
Without another word she darted off, calling out for Feyre as she turned the corner and disappeared from your viewpoint.
Your gaze lingered on your open door for a moment before you turned around, walking closer to the edge of the patio. You leaned over the balcony, taking a deep, calm breath. The horizon stretched out before you, waves rolling in a rhythm that seemed to sync with your heartbeat.
You’d always loved the beach, loved the sense of peace that came with being near the ocean. Something about it felt so new— felt so refreshing and lively.
The sound of distant laughter filtered into your ear, and you easily recognized the boisterous cadence of Cassian’s voice. You followed the sound, glancing over towards the glass door of the adjacent room. Through the sliver of his room’s open curtains, you watched as Azriel dropped a bag on his bed, a small smile on his face at something said to him.
You angled your head further.
A nagging voice in the back of your mind reminded you that it might seem odd to be peering into someone else’s space, even if they were your friends. But, they were your friends, weren’t they? It wasn’t weird to be interested in what they were up to, especially when you were all sharing this space for the summer. So you pushed aside the fleeting feeling of unease, convincing yourself that you were simply being sociable and observant.
Azriel lifted his head. You blinked, quickly looking back to the view in front of you in an effort to avoid catching his gaze. You grimaced to yourself, a rush of heat flowing to your cheeks.
Smooth.
You shook your head, gently tapping the balcony railing as you turned around to head back into your room. You made sure to keep your gaze down, to fight the urge for your eyes to flicker towards Azriel’s door.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
All of the windows in the kitchen were open, filling the space with the fresh scent of ocean breeze. You gave Rhys and Feyre a quick greeting, walking towards one of the opened back doors. The urge to explore the beach and feel the sand beneath your feet pulled at you, calling to you like a siren to a sailor, but you stayed still. The drive here had been lengthy and, as a result, your deep-seated exhaustion weighed heavy on your limbs.
“Thinking of going and looking around?” Feyre asked, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Later, definitely. I’m feeling a bit too tired right now to be in the blazing sun.”
Feyre offered you a knowing nod. “Makes sense.”
The sound of footsteps drew your attention and you turned to see Azriel and Cassian entering the kitchen. The latter's eyes immediately found yours, a grin breaking out on his lips as he walked towards you in three long strides. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.
”God, I missed you,” Cassian said. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the comment, knowing full well that you all had met up before making the drive to ensure that you had everything needed. But Cassian always had a flare for the dramatic. So, instead, you just gave him a small laugh and wrapped your arms around him in return. 
He pointed to Azriel. “He’s such a bore, dude. He wouldn’t play any games on the road.”
Your gaze flickered over to Azriel. He rolled his eyes.
“Because your games involved me removing both hands from the wheel.”
Cassian shrugged, the movement redistributing the weight of his arm around your shoulders. “So?”
”So?” Azriel retorted. He opened his mouth to say more, but with a quick scan of Cassian’s face led him to closing his mouth and offering another eye roll. Azriel then turned his attention to you, holding your gaze as he offered you a smile.
”Hey, Y/n.”
His voice was much softer than a few seconds ago, a different tone than that he had used with Cassian.
You smiled back. “Hi, Az.”
You weren’t sure what to do next, torn between wanting to give him a small hug and the presence of Cassian’s arm around you. Az held your gaze for another moment before he walked past. You took in his figure, briefly noticing the change in his attire from this morning when you’d seen both him and Cassian. His long, black pants were now replaced by black shorts, instead. Before your stare could linger, Mor entered from the opened porch door, kicking off the sand-covered shoes she wore as she stepped into the house’s threshold.
”Oh great, you’re all here,” she said, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. “Cass, are you ready to go?”
”Yup,” Cassian responded excitedly. He separated himself from you, casting a quick glance down at your form. “Wanna come?”
”Where are you guys going?”
Mor and Cassian answered simultaneously, “Liquor store.”
You raised an amused brow. “Have we become too fancy to just go to a grocery store?”
Mor shrugged. “I like my options.”
From across the kitchen, Rhys wrapped an arm around Feyre's torso, a cheeky grin on his face as he leaned forward to place his chin on her shoulder. “And yet, Mor, you always manage to return with a bottle of wine and a pack of white claws.”
Mor offered him a scowl. ”Shut it.”
”Actually,” Feyre hummed, “While you guys are out can you grab some groceries? I have a list. I can text it to you.”
Mor and Cassian exchanged a glance. “Sure, but it might take a while.”
Feyre arched an eyebrow. From beside her, Rhys rolled his eyes. “Why?”
It was Azriel who responded to her question, “Because they’re probably planning to 'taste test' everything they buy. So then they'll be sitting there and waiting it out until they can drive again."
You glanced over at him, watching as a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. The hazel of his eyes were bright now, more visible with the sunlight pouring through the windows. There was a glint of amusement in them as he met your gaze.
Morrigan let out a sound of mock offense. Cassian grinned. You laughed, giving him a playful swat with your hands. It only made his grin grow further.
”I can grab it, Feyre,” you said, “Cass and Mor can go on the alcohol run alone.”
She gave you a grateful smile, but a flicker of concern furrowed her brow. “Are you sure? It’s kinda a lot for one person.”
You frowned. “How many things are we buying?”
“I figured we should make as many meals to counterbalance the amount we’re spending on drinks.”
You clicked your tongue. “Smart.”
She tossed a glance over her shoulder, meeting the studying gaze of her boyfriend. “I can go with you.”
Rhysand instantly frowned and mumbled under his breath, but you failed to catch his words as Azriel’s voice chimed in behind you.
”I can go.”
He stood next to you and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes for a fleeting second. He smiled. 
“And I can drive.”
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
The list Feyre had given you was indeed a lot— and all over the place.
Az trailed after you, pushing the large shopping cart as you slowly scanned the shelves in front of you. The car ride with him had been quiet, but it was the type of quiet you often yearned for— the comfortable kind that made you feel at home. He'd opened your car door for you, a gesture so casual and natural that you hadn't fully registered it until you were sitting in his front seat, pulling your seatbelt on. For some reason, the act had yet to leave your mind. 
"What do you need?"
Azriel' braced his forearms on the cart's handle, leaning forward as he waited for your answer. Your gaze fell to the silver chain that dangled from his neck, now freed from its usual place hidden underneath his shirt.
"Y/n?"
You blinked. "Yeah?"
Azriel's brows furrowed slightly and he straightened his posture, pushing the cart closer to you. "Feyre's list," he clarified, "What's on it?"
You let out a small oh of realization, offering Azriel your phone in order for him to read off Feyre's comprehensive list of groceries. You switched places, Azriel maneuvering around the cart to look around the store. Your phone looked so strange in his hand and you suddenly regretted offering it to him instead of forwarding the text. You grimaced to yourself, mentally praying that your parents didn't message you— that no strange, unpromising alert flashed across your screen as he held it. The feeling that now flushed your body was the same cold, unrealistic panic that you felt when you traveled— when you'd go through airports and suddenly stress yourself into thinking you'd accidentally packed a live firework or a bomb.
Azriel had made it across an aisle by the time you reeled your thoughts back in. You let yourself fall behind his steps, observing him as he walked along the various cereal boxes.
There was a time where you'd believed that you and Azriel could be more than friends— back in freshman year when you'd first met. It was an instant spark, something so electric even Mor had felt it, had spent weeks making jokes about your crush. And months later you'd found yourself in that room with Azriel, inches away from his face on halloween night, lips still tasting of the fruity drink Cassian had made for you.
But nothing happened— not then, not after.
Two years had passed since and so much had changed. Not only within your life, but with Azriel himself.
He looked different now. His hair was longer— still cropped enough at the sides to show that dangling dagger earring you'd always loved— but long enough on top where his curls were on full display. He'd grown those out in the past two years, had stopped cutting his hair too short for them to show. He was tanner now, too, his golden brown skin holding an even darker sun-kissed glow— but you attributed that to the summer sun rather than the years.
It all fit him so well.
Azriel turned to face you, two large boxes of cereal in either hand. You straightened yourself, fixing your posture as hastily as a child caught watching something they shouldn't have been. If Azriel noticed anything, he didn't make any indication, opting to ask you about which cereal the others would prefer.
You both managed to switch again, Az taking his place pushing the cart as you examined the various boxes on the shelves in front of you. There were only a few more things left on Feyre's list and it felt like an internal fight to find all the items before the grocery store's white light lured you to an eternal sleep— or a well needed nap.
"You excited?"
You looked over at Azriel, meeting his hazel eyes instantly. While his face seemed neutral, you could see the hint of enjoyment that danced in his eyes, a golden-hued green that made you smile instinctively. "Yeah," you said, "It'll be a fun summer.”
Azriel made a sound akin to an appreciative, agreeable hum. The aisles felt narrower the more you walked alongside him, feeling the ghost of his touch as you brushed against him with every step.
"And for the festival?" He asked.
Your smile grew larger at this.
The festival was actually one of the things you were most excited for this summer—aside from the general premise of being with everyone, of course. Summit Pulse was three days of live music, featuring over 80 artists across multiple stages. From indie bands to electronic DJs, Summit had been a dream of yours to attend since freshman year—the same time you'd first learned that Mor and Rhys had a beach house in the same city it was hosted.
"Very," you tossed him a glance before you pulled out three boxes of instant Mac n Cheese. "And I can imagine you are too."
You were sure of it. Your shared love of music was one of the things you and Azriel had bonded about originally. You still remembered the first time you'd hung out with him outside of your Intro the Philosophy class, sitting on the couch in the apartment he shared with Cassian and Rhysand. You'd spent most of the night looking at each other's music— analyzing your saved playlists and talking about the various concerts you'd been to.
Az's smile grew, a single dimple appearing on his cheeks as the corners of his eyes crinkled. "You'd be correct," he replied. A small pause followed before he said, "I think I just need to get the energy for it."
You laughed, stopping in place to turn around and look at him. "Me too," you admitted. The exhaustion from early had started to rear its ugly head again and your legs still ached with the long car ride. You let out a small tired sigh, running a hand along your face. Azriel's eyes traced the movement.
"I am really excited,” you said, “But god, I'm so exhausted. I'm glad we have a few days for me to mentally prep."
Az raised a brow. "I can imagine. You've had quite the semester."
You titled your head in response, brows falling into a subtle, confused furrow. 
"Mor told me how hard you guys were working, that your professors weren’t very accommodating.”
You raised a single brow at his wording and the corners of Azriel’s lips twitched upwards. “Alright,” he added with an amused shake of his head. “She said your professors were assholes who needed to get laid.”
You let out a small snort at this, an unintended response that you would’ve felt embarrassed about had it been anyone but Azriel in front of you. His smile seemed to quirk up further. 
"Mor was right. It was a rough semester to say the least.” 
For more reasons than you'd been willing to let on. Yes, your coursework had gotten a lot more demanding, but it wasn't just schoolwork that tired you out. Mor and Feyre had already started their grad school applications, spending nights in the libraries making pros and cons lists for every school each of you were interested in. Their plan was to find places close enough to one another, to settle in one city and get a large apartment together. Your grad school applications had remained untouched— you had no schools in mind. No programs. No connections.
"I can also imagine your breakup didn't help with it all," Az said. His voice was quieter now, as if he was unsure of the words he was speaking. You held his gaze as he looked at you. "I'm sorry about that, by the way."
You shrugged. "I'm not."
It was the truth. Eris had been a great boyfriend, sure, but you weren't overtly heartbroken over the breakup. You’d met Eris in a Political Science class and despite your initial impression of him, he’d grown on you fast. He was a sweetheart at his core but you simply didn’t mesh as well as you once thought. The breakup was inevitable in the same way that it was amicable, mutual, and very much needed. 
Something flickered across Azriel’s face and his gaze darkened. He straightened himself, his posture now emphasizing the height he held over you. "Why?" Azriel said, voice low. "Did he do something?"
His response made your mouth go dry for a fleeting second. Azriel and Eris always had a long-standing hatred for each other that you’d never truly understood. It traced back to some events that had transpired during their high school years, this you knew, but your knowledge stopped at that. Your relationship with Eris had definitely distanced you from your friends— Mor and Azriel to be specific, but now that things were finally beginning to feel normal again, you didn’t want to ruin it. 
"No, no," you quickly clarified, offering him a reassuring smile. His shoulders seemed to relax at your answer and you swallowed as you took in his face again, gaze still entirely focused on you.
You cleared your throat before turning yourself around to examine the shelves once more with new interest. "He was a good boyfriend to me. But it wasn't going anywhere and I felt like he was distracting me from more important things."
Reaching up, you attempted to grab a box on the top shelf, recognizing it as the last of those granola bars that Mor used to hoard in her cupboard. The box remained out of reach with every stretch of your hand.
"So no more distractions for you?"
Before you could respond to his question, Azriel was behind you, leaning over you to effortlessly grab the box from the shelf. He wasn't touching you, his chest still a respectable distance away from your back, but you felt the warm presence of him on your skin all the same. Your stomach did a small flip and you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realized you'd sucked in.
Azriel offered the box to you. You looked up at him, gently grabbing it with pinkened cheeks. You chose your next words carefully.
"Only meaningful ones."
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
summer is slowly coming to an end so i present to you.... the fluffiest lil summer romance i shall ever write!!!! this series is entirely planned out and its just #vibes. everyone thank @milswrites for pushing me to actually start this.
as usual, thank you for reading <3 and lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list <3
one summer tag list 🫶🏻:
@velarisnightsky444
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 
@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 
@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg
@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 
@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot
@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii
azriel tag list 🫶🏻:
@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder
700 notes · View notes
deadly-diminuendo · 3 months ago
Text
Sweet Dreams, Darling
a spawn astarion x fem!tav reader oneshot / nsfw / ~4.1k words
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Summary: An evening spent reading a racy romance novel awakens a fantasy you never knew you had. The thought of your sleeping body becoming a thing to be used for someone else's pleasure brings you an unexpected thrill. Of course Astarion catches you in the act and of course he cannot resist teasing you. But he is willing to indulge you.
Tags/CW: somnophilia, consensual non-consent, tadpole mind sharing, vampire bites/blood drinking, kink discovery, piv sex, late act 3, mostly smut with some fluff
Read on AO3
Or read below...
Never has a collection of words upon a page enraptured you quite like this.
You could have spent hours perusing the diverse collection of books in your private suite, but the second you spotted this particular title, you simply could not resist plucking it from the shelf: Dusk’s Dark Desires. A steamy vampire romance novel taking Faerûn by storm, or so you have heard.
Whether it proved to be a well-written escapist fantasy capable of stimulating your senses, or a disaster full of laughable euphemisms and wild inaccuracies—something you and Astarion might enjoy ridiculing together perhaps—you thought you made the perfect choice for the night. Little did you know just how entirely it would captivate you.
After all it is certainly not the first time you have read something of this nature—erotic literature has long been a guilty pleasure of yours—but the book in your hands describes in riveting detail a fantasy you were not fully aware you had until this very moment.
A hazy notion of it would flicker through your mind whenever you would wake to find Astarion lying atop you, your blood such an aphrodisiac to him that he could not help but to succumb to carnal instinct, hands wandering, hips rolling, his arousal anything but subtle. His need for you never failed to ignite your need for him. All it would take was a word, a nod, a look, and then it would begin—your lips colliding, your clothes shedding, his cock sliding into your mouth, or plunging into your cunt, whatever suited the two of you best. You never felt more wanted, at least in those early days.
Even the times you did not wake thrilled you. You both treated your arrangement as your little secret, only acknowledging your intimate exchanges in knowing smiles and seductive whispers. All the nights you offered him your neck and sealed your promise with a kiss, all the mornings you awoke smiling as you felt fresh puncture marks in your skin, wondering if the act filled him with as much desire as it always seems to.
Wondering if he wanted to take more from you than your blood while you slept.
You flip a few pages back, eager to reread the passage that inspired your lecherous thoughts. Again you absorb the tantalizing prose and again the delicious encounter described plays out in your mind’s eye. A chamber cloaked in darkness, the only light a sliver of moonglow peeking in through the window. The protagonist, a mortal woman, alone and asleep upon a luxurious bed, unaware of what is soon to unfold. The vampire, graceful and silent as he enters the room, here to claim her blood—and her body.
Astarion here to claim you.
Your longing pools between your legs as you picture yourself and your own lover recreating this scandalous scenario. You imagine Astarion losing himself in your neck, lifting the hem of your nightdress, easing his way inside you, your body wholly ready to accept him even while unconscious.
What began as a tiny spark of curiosity has developed into overwhelming want. You want to wake to him indulging in your sleeping form more than he has ever dared before. Or not to wake at all, to discover in the morning that he’d had his wicked way with you while you were none the wiser.
You continue to read, immersing yourself in both the enticing words upon the page and the intoxicating idea of Astarion using your body for his pleasure. So lost in thought are you that, when the door creaks open, you jump.
Really, you should not be at all surprised. You knew Astarion would eventually be joining you tonight. Since your party began its stay at the Elfsong, the two of you have often spent your nights in this room, away from the prying eyes of the others. A cozy place for you to converse and cuddle in comfort—or, since that unforgettable experience you shared over his grave, to make love.
Your journey has held many surprises for you, but none more unexpected—and more welcome—than falling in love. Together you’ve formed a deep emotional connection founded on mutual trust, respect, and adoration—and your physical connection is all the better for it. You truly enjoy each other in every way.
And you would very much like to enjoy him tonight.
Astarion regards your flushed face with a touch of suspicion and a great deal of amusement, the curl of his lips hinting at the barrage of teases likely coming your way. You shut your book closed too quickly, too guiltily, you think. He knows he has caught you red-handed, and now you are red-faced to match it.
He takes a step closer to the bed and closer to you, a little thrill rushing through you as his gaze drops to the low cut of your chemise—but then you realize he means to glimpse at your novel, discern its title, uncover a clue to the mysteries held within. You hug the book tighter to you, not willing to give up its secrets this soon.
“Good book, I take it?”
You shrug, though you know your grin is likely giving you away. “It has been a pleasant enough diversion thus far.”
“Oh, I think it’s much more than that, darling,” he insists, sauntering closer before halting at the foot of the bed. “It must be quite an… intriguing read to bring such a pretty blush to those cheeks. Here I thought only I was capable of that.”
“Maybe I was thinking about you,” you admit with a flutter of your lashes.
“Like always, then?” He chuckles as heat again darkens your cheeks. “You do fluster so easily in my presence. Still a little shy even after all this time. How sweet you are, my dear.”
You can’t help but notice how his fingertips run up the bedpost, and you find yourself wishing those hands were all over you instead.
“Or maybe you are not as sweet as you seem, hmm?” His voice is low, sultry, the way it always is when he means to seduce you.
As if you needed seducing.
Your breath catches in your lungs as the mattress sinks beneath his weight, your body deathly still but for the pumping of your heart and the throbbing of your cunt. Eagerly you await his next move.
You watch his slow, measured crawl towards you, his hungered stare suggesting his need to devour and ravage you—but he stops, resting his chin in his hand as he lies there looking at you.
“What devilish thoughts have been going through your mind, I wonder? Dreaming up all the sinful things we might do together, perhaps? Wishing I was here with you? Touching you? Inside you?”
“Maybe,” you tell him with a coy smile. He does not yet know the depths of your depravity, but perhaps you might yet let him find out.
“And now that you have me…” He smirks, running a thumb across your parted lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you.
You cannot resist. You never can.
So you steal a kiss—and he snatches away your book.
You expected it to happen, really. It was inevitable. And though part of you is mortified that you have allowed him this much ammunition to tease you with—the other part of you wonders if he, too, just might like what he reads.
“Well, what have we here?” Astarion settles against the pillow to your left, looking all too pleased with himself as he begins to inspect his prize. “Dusk’s Dark Desires?” He sounds skeptical as he reads out the title, and though he flashes you an unimpressed look, you can detect a glimmer in his eyes. “Let’s see what dark desires have that sweet heart of yours beating so fast.”
If he had not guessed it already, he discovers it immediately upon opening the book: “Vampires, darling?” He tuts at you with mock disapproval. “Oh, my love. I should have known.”
You do feel rather embarrassed, knowing so much about the true horrors of vampirism, horrors he has had to endure—and yet the first night he bit you was a carnal awakening. A world-shattering, life-changing experience for you both.
But you fell in love with Astarion for the man he is, not the vampire he happens to be.
“It is, admittedly, a new fascination of mine. All because you are a fascination of mine. And so much more than that.”
You smile at each other, and your worries fade.
Though it soon becomes clear he intends to keep you blushing.
“My, my,” he remarks, clicking his tongue as his eyes scan the text in front of him. “Is this now a fascination of yours, too?” He begins to read aloud: “So serene did she lie beneath him, so scrumptious did she taste, so submissive was she in slumber, that he knew he must take all of her, inch by precious inch.”
This is all rather foolish, you think.
Yet to hear such words spoken in his irresistibly seductive timbre renders you speechless.
So he makes the obvious choice to keep going.
He rolls to his side, half hovering over you as he skims the rest of the page, skipping ahead a few lines: “Fear rattled her when she awoke to find him within her, fangs in throat, cock in flesh. Yet a rapturous need blossomed in her core, obliterating all rational thought. When she cried out at last, his mouth met hers with a ferocity beguiling and obscene, consuming her whole. She enfolded him into her arms and surrendered.”
A pause. The air feels electric between you as Astarion studies your face. Whatever conclusion he comes to makes him grin. “You filthy little degenerate. This really turns you on, doesn’t it?”
You are still quiet, so he persists.
“You like the thought of it, don’t you? You, lying here lost in your sweet dreams, while I take whatever I want?”
Somewhere within you still resides a shame that prevents you from confessing outright. You try to downplay it. “It’s just a silly little fantasy.”
“Is that all it is?” He lets the book fall to the bed as he moves to straddle you. “Oh, no, my love. I know you too well to believe that. Your body betrays you.”
“Does it?” you ask innocently, but you know full well it does. Lust already blazed within you before he’d even entered the room, and now his every touch fuels the flames.
“Hmm, let me see…”
His palm cups your chin.
“Pupils dilated.”
Lips inches from yours.
“Cheeks reddened.”
Fingers trace your heart.
“Heartrate accelerated.”
Then graze your breasts.
“Nipples hardened.”
Lower, lower, lower.
“Cunt soaked.”
Mouths crash together.
No more words pass between you as you lose yourselves in your fervent worship of each other, though your fantasy is far from forgotten.
Not by you.
Not by him.
+++
“I would not mind indulging you. In fact I would rather like to try it myself.”
Those were his first words to you in the morning when you awoke entangled in his arms.
You were elated. You admitted how badly you wanted it—wanted him to take and take and take from you while you sleep. Wanted to be nothing more than his personal plaything for a night.
And tonight you will put your plan into place.
You are alone. You are restless. You are wide awake.
And so you are grateful for the little gift Astarion left out for you on the desk.
Together you decided upon two key conditions to be met for your end of the bargain before he could proceed with his. One, you would remove your smallclothes. Two, you would drink a sleeping draught—and the perfect concoction is now conveniently laid out before you.
He wanted you to know you could still change your mind—but no. You are sure of what you want, and you trust him completely.
You slip out of your smallclothes, kicking them aside as you make your way forward. You take the tiny bottle in your hands, twist off the lid, and swallow the works of it down. You settle into the plush comfort of your bed, and moments later, you drift into the world of your dreams.
+++
Sweet are your dreams of Astarion.
Foggy and fleeting though they begin, little details stick with you—the melodious rippling of his laughter, the heady scent of bergamot and rosemary, the feeling of cool skin against your heat in a spellbinding dance of ice and fire. Every one of your senses recalls all the happiest moments you have shared, envisions all the precious memories you have yet to create.
Whether it is a matter of minutes or hours, you are not sure—but, in time, the nebulous becomes lucid, the vague becomes vivid.
The picture so clear before you now is you. Your chest rises and falls with the gentle cadence of your breathing, your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your nightgown. Your hemline hiked up high, your head atilt upon your pillow, your lovely neck ready for the taking. A vision delectable and divine.
Delectable… An imagining of yourself through Astarion’s eyes, then. How curious.
Your thoughts are no longer your own, but his, or at least what you fancy his to be. How pleased he would be to learn your dreams filled with love and longing inspired the warmth of your smile, how thrilled he would feel to feed upon your sleeping form, knowing how much the notion arouses you, how much of you you’re willing to let him take.
Astarion stalks towards the bed, eyes ever watching you, drinking in every detail of your alluring figure. He cannot deny how adorable you look in your frilly and feminine little dress, but, as he often reminds you, it’s your skin that suits you best. How he would love to strip you bare, have you nude beneath him, so sweet and soft and utterly helpless. The bed creaks when he joins you upon it, the mattress dipping as his knees settle on either side of you—he freezes, but then remembers having spotted the empty vial—he need not be too careful tonight.
You will sleep very, very well.
As for his other little suggestion… Gods, he must know. His hands venture under your skirt, and when he feels the skin there—silky, smooth, shamelessly bare—he grins.
Both your blood and your body will be his tonight.
Such a generous little thing you are, always eager to be seduced, to be used, to be conquered. What luck to have found such willing prey, a perfect vessel to fulfill the needs of his empty stomach and his already hardening cock. The steady rhythm of your pulse and the heat emanating from your skin only heighten his ravenous desire.
You can almost feel him at your neck.
A delicate touch. A gentle kiss. A sharp bite.
Astarion sinks his fangs deep into you, and your blood, so rich and so decadent, fills his hungry mouth, a heavenly reprieve from his eternal curse. The taste of you is pure perfection, an ambrosia more divine than the finest wines, more filling than the grandest feasts. It’s invigorating. Exhilarating. Arousing.
He gulps you down greedily, the temptation to drain you dry ever present, but his ardent need for you ever more consuming. Unaware as you are, your body still reacts, still shivers and shakes against him—not unlike how you shudder in ecstasy when he fucks you, your self-control hopelessly lost as you come undone in his arms. His lust for blood shifts into lust for you, every drop of you he drinks seemingly travelling right to his cock.
A feeling he wanted to fight, once. To physically crave anyone, even if instigated by the act of blood-drinking, was truly shocking. Beyond what he could handle, at first. He tried to ignore it. And then he couldn’t ignore it, stealing away to the woods, or to the privacy of his tent to play out his fantasies, chase the euphoria of release. Giving into it when you would wake, sometimes even wanting you to wake so he could have you, take pleasure in you, empty himself inside you.
Now it is a feeling he has been learning to embrace.
And tonight with you—in you—he will embrace it fully.
Instinct guides his hands to grab at your gown, bunching its cloth into fistfuls and gathering its hem to your waist, exposing your gorgeous curves and your pretty little cunt. He dares run a finger along your entrance, so warm and, oh, so deliciously wet for him. A wonderful surprise to find you this receptive, this ready for his use. His cock aches to spring free, to indulge in your slick heat.
To fuck you like this, plunge into you hard and fast, eat up every last bit of you—the pleasure of it all would be immense—but your gifts to him are precious, something to be cherished, to be handled with care. As much as it is a challenge to maintain his control, to pull himself from your luscious neck, he does.
It helps to know the night will not end here. He readies himself for the delights yet to come, strips off his trousers and smallclothes, coaxes your legs apart with one hand as he strokes himself with the other.
To savour you will be so sweet.
Astarion rubs along your folds—a tease that so often has you begging for more—but now he is the impatient one. Your charming smile, your radiating warmth, your ready body, so slick with unconscious need, invites him in. The tip of his cock slips inside you and you welcome him with astonishing ease.
Pleasure—whether his or yours, you can’t quite tell—floods your mind, intensifying the otherworldly sensations of your dreamscape. The way he fills you, the way you surround him entrances you in equal measure, immersing you into a haze of languid euphoria as he gradually, gently works you open.
How cute that you cannot quite comprehend this. But, oh, you feel it, don’t you?
His thoughts again dominate yours as he buries his full length inside, relishing in how easily your body accommodates his size, how good it feels to pull away and push back into you. Gods, you look so beautiful and blissful in your oblivion. Still your body answers to his rhythm in ways subtle and sweet—a touch of colour on your cheeks, a slight quickening of your heart—but nothing gratifies him more than discovering the stirrings of pleasure swirling about your sleeping mind.
A conflict begins between his crumbling resolve to take his time and his growing urge to thrust into you mercilessly. He manages to compromise with a moderate pace and a thorough exploration of you, pressing in as deep as he is able while his hands roam across your skin. Your every curve and contour have long been mapped out in his mind, but still he touches you with a reverence befitting a first time.
How surreal it is to know this stunning, trusting, loving woman in his arms is all his. It still feels like a sweet dream from which he will one day wake.
But you are real—and you give yourself to him so freely.
Astarion continues to rock his hips against yours, moving faster now, taking full advantage of your kindly offering. You feel delicious wrapped around his cock like this, your body perfectly conforming to his shape. He does miss your adorable little moans—you have always been enthusiastically vocal for him in bed—but he must admit the endless creaking below and the wet slapping of his flesh meeting yours make for pleasing sounds in their absence.
Barely a second passes before a pretty noise escapes your open mouth—only a faint whimper, but it makes him throb with the feral need to fill you. You little minx. Even in your sleep you know just how to rile him. Well, if you are to tempt him with such provocative encouragement, then he has no choice but to fuck you harder.
He abandons all restraint in his haste towards the end, the pleasure tingling your slumbering mind enhancing his own. But, gods, what he would not give to feel all your delightful spasms and shudders as you shatter for him.
Maybe, just maybe…
You feel it. You have this whole time, really, but the waves of pleasure are far stronger than before. Each and every sensation amplified, pushed hard into your mind as he plunges hard into you. How much pleasure he takes in enjoying your body. How blissfully lost he is in his sweet addiction to you. How near he is to tumbling over the edge of ecstasy.
And he wants desperately to take you with him.
Euphoria wracks through him and through you. With a few final thrusts, Astarion pumps you full of his seed, your rhythmic pulses drawing every last drop deeper inside you.
He collapses, basking in afterglow, heart brimming with affection as he admires you. You are still sound asleep, oblivious to the waking world, that same cute little smile upon your pretty face.
Gods, could you be any more perfect?
Before he separates from your body and mind, before all fades to black, he plants a single kiss upon your soft lips, whispering one last message into your ear.
“Sweet dreams, darling.”
+++
Your eyes flicker open. You squint a little as you adjust to the shock of morning light streaming in through the crack of the open window, but you soon welcome your favourite sight: Astarion lying by your side. You are usually the type to grumble as you pull the covers over your head, chasing the often vain hope for another hour of sleep—but today you simply smile. Perhaps waking up every day next to a partner you adore just might yet make a morning person out of you.
He looks beautiful like this. Relaxed, content, transfixed on a book. He fails to notice your stare—or at least he pretends not to. Eventually you scooch closer, and at last he acknowledges you. “Good morning, my dear. I trust you… slept well?”
Something signals to you that this is not quite a normal greeting. Something you can’t quite pinpoint. He looks… exceptionally smug, even for him. He sounds… expectant, maybe?
You struggle to recall whatever it is you are supposed to know. But then you recognize the book in his hands as he slams it shut. And then you remember.
Oh, gods. Your racy novel. Your little fantasy. Your erotic dreams.
Your hand snaps to your neck, your fingers finding two distinctive punctures in your skin while he watches you with his fanged grin. He drank from you, that much is certain, but did he…? You reach your other hand to examine a far more intimate place.
Oh.
Oh.
“That,” you begin breathlessly, hazy recollections of your dreams returning to you piece by piece. “That was all real last night, wasn’t it?”
“If you are referring to the little show I gave you, then yes,” he confirms, his grin spreading wide. “Was it everything you ever wanted?”
His flirtatious drawl is full of bravado, as it always is, yet you think you can detect the tiniest hint of uncertainty behind it.
Oh, you will make sure you leave him with no doubt.
You practically pounce on him, smothering him with a flurry of little kisses. The way his laughter bubbles out of him makes your heart sing. “Shall I take that as a yes?”
“Of course,” you assure him. “And it’s like I’ve told you before. I trust you with my body.”
You plant a kiss on his forehead.
“My mind.”
And the tip of his nose.
“My heart.”
Both his cheeks.
“My everything.”
You press your lips to his, and the two of you melt into each other. Astarion holds you tight even as your lips break apart, a whispered “I love you,” filling the shell of your ear. You repeat the words back to him—and before you lavish him with the full extent of your affection you tell him only one more thing.
“You have given me the sweetest dreams I will ever have.”
+++ Thank you for reading!
If you enjoy my work, you can find more on my AO3. Additional cross posts for Tumblr and masterlist coming soon + more oneshots in the works! UPDATE: Here is the masterlist!
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kinardsevan · 10 days ago
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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮
i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:
-
Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side. 
“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband. 
“I am,” he insists. 
“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.” 
“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically. 
“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”
“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them. 
“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter. 
“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.” 
“Six months,” Maddie states. 
Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.” 
Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 
“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.” 
“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.” 
Evan huffs, leaning against the counter. 
“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.” 
“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?” 
Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly. 
“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?” 
“I- I thought- I mean we-..” 
“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?” 
“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues. 
Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?” 
Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack. 
After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it. 
“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down. 
“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him. 
“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains. 
“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him. 
“The who?” “Huh?” 
Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.” 
“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects. 
“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.” 
“So?” Evan asks. 
“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.” 
Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall. 
“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.” 
“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp. 
“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..” 
“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island. 
Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again. 
“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.” 
Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter. 
“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.” 
He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.” 
“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.” 
He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy. 
“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. 
“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?” 
Evan stares down at the counter again. 
“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek. 
“Call him.” 
. . . 
Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. 
So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. 
Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens. 
“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this. 
“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” 
Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course. 
“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down. 
“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.” 
“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods. 
“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.” 
“Buck-..” 
“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable. 
“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath. 
Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 
“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I  threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.” 
“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..” 
“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.” 
“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces. 
Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.” 
Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter. 
“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.” 
Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words. 
“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.” 
Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.” 
Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.” 
Tommy nods. 
“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.” 
Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement. 
“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.” 
Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?” 
“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.” 
The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod. 
“Okay.” 
“Yeah?” Evan asks him. 
Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.” 
Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it. 
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 15 days ago
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 3
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2
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Chrissy Cunningham just slipped a note into someone’s locker. Robin doesn’t know whose, but it’s not Steve Harrington’s. She knows, because she’s had the absolute blessing of having him as her locker neighbor all year. And based on how often she’s seen Chrissy loitering in front of it with him, the gossip mill is right about their budding relationship.
Except Chrissy just slipped a note into someone else’s locker.
Robin watches her walk away, stomach curdling at Harrington’s name branded on her back. He might as well have raised a leg and pissed on her.
The hallway is largely vacant, everyone in their last periods of the day. Robin had been on her way to Pre-Calc after a quick stop at the restroom, but she’s scrapping that idea now: there’s a mystery afoot.
Robin hunches over the drinking fountain at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She pushes the button but makes sure her mouth is well out of the stream of contaminated water. She’s not willing to risk botulism, not even for Chrissy.
The footsteps walk by without a pause, so she stands up, wiping the bit of splash-backed water off her cheek as she waits. After a few more false starts, and the clock ticking down to the end of the day, she’s almost ready to give it up as a bad job.
But then someone else starts stomping down the hall. She watches out of the corner of her eye, once again bent over the fountain, as Eddie Munson spins the dial on the locker and pulls it open. He immediately plucks an envelope out, pulls the tab open, and retrieves a pale-blue piece of paper.
Robin’s thumb slips on the button for the water–the abrupt absence of sound must tip him off because he turns to her, a scowl already on his face as he asks, “what are you looking at?” as he clutches the note tightly to his chest.
It’s too late. She’d already seen him smile down at it, blushing and twirling one of his curls around his fingers.
It sinks into her stomach until she’s sick, a pit to nurture and grow in the acid of her intestines. She can almost feel them writhing as Eddie’s scowl deepens into a glare the longer her silence goes on.
“Nothing,” she says, averting her eyes to bend down and pretend to tie her shoe.
Eddie huffs, and she listens to him stomp down the hall, as something wet and embarrassing begins pooling in her eyes.
She spends the rest of class hiding in the bathroom trying to get her shit together by brute force.
It doesn’t work; it never does.
***
After the random band girl had creeped on him in the halls, Eddie stuffed the letter into the pocket of his vest, half-read. The anticipation builds through the rest of the period and all the way home.
In the comfort of his bedroom he reopens the envelope and peers inside, giddy at the thought of reading the rest of the letter, this time a response to his own words. 
Should he light a candle? Dim the lights? Eddie hasn’t seen a romance movie in a long time, but this feels like the sort of moment to recreate a scene from one. He’s getting love letters. Plural. Him. Eddie of the Munson doctrine.
He doesn’t even own any candles.
       Eddie – 
       I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.
       It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.
       Sorry, that might be too much.
       Yours, Always,
       Your Secret Admirer
       P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)
Eddie brushes his fingers against the sign-off, the pen such a light touch that he can barely feel the grooves in the paper beneath that immaculate ink.
“Yours, always,” he says, quietly in the privacy of his bedroom.
But, he’s not alone in this shoebox, so Uncle Wayne’s voice calls a too-loud, “what?” from where he’s probably still in his recliner, camped out in the living room.
“Mind your business, old man!” Eddie calls back, already lost in the land of daydreams by the time Wayne’s laugh travels back through the door he’d forgotten to close.
Wayne’s always been a good secret keeper, but this one’s too big to share. It feels weighty somehow, like it’s an overfilled water-balloon and telling Wayne, or Jeff, or anyone might fill it up to bursting.
He doesn’t want to pop this fragile thing, not when he doesn’t even have a face or a name.
He wants to know what her name sounds like on his tongue, the way her mouth purses as she carefully writes each of these little words. He wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his careful fingers.
He wants.
But, a Munson’s a Munson, and they can’t always get what they want, so he presses his pen to the paper and settles for what he can have. Not a name, maybe. Not yet, but some questions still deserve an answer, right?
*** 
“I can’t believe we didn’t think of setting a drop-off location,” Steve says, biting his nails the way his mom has always hated. He spits the bit of nail out onto the floor. Chrissy gives him a disgusted look. “What? I’m nervous!”
Nose still wrinkled, Chrissy mutters, “that’s no excuse to be a pig,” barely loud enough for him to hear.
Steve stuffs his hands beneath his armpits, scowling down at the linoleum as they make the increasingly familiar trek to the library. Before the past couple weeks, Steve could count the number of times he’d been in here on one hand, and every single one of them was because of Nancy.
Now, it feels like he and Chrissy are always camping out at one of the tables, crouching over notepads and whispering even if the library’s empty. Steve might not be the smartest guy around, but he’s not stupid; if anyone finds out about this, he’ll be lucky to make it out of town before someone kills him.
“Calm down,” Chrissy says, holding the door open for him. He steps past her, hands still crossed over his chest in what’s starting to feel increasingly like a self-soothing hug.
Chrissy must think the same because she wraps her tiny arm around his waist and leads him toward a familiar bookshelf. “He probably left it in the same place as last time.”
The word “probably” isn’t bringing him much comfort, but Chrissy doesn’t give him any more time to catastrophize before she’s pulling that same useless encyclopedia off the shelf and flipping it open. And there, tucked cozily into its pages, is another note in Eddie’s scrawl.
Steve smiles down at it before remembering their location. “You didn’t even check for witnesses,” Steve hisses.
He peers over her shoulder, eying the lone student in the research section who’s bent over a heavy tome, paying them no mind. He snaps out of it when Chrissy slaps the letter against his chest before tucking it into the pocket of Steve’s varsity jacket. She’s taken to wearing it almost religiously, even as all the other cheerleaders tease her mercilessly for it.
“Calm down,” she says, already striding away, off toward their usual table as Steve rushes to catch up. “If anyone sees, they’ll just think I’m his secret admirer.”
Logically, he knows that. But some part of him feels like everyone will take one look at his face and just know. And no matter how hard he tries, it’s not a feeling that’s easy to shake.
“Thanks, Chris,” he mumbles, bumping their shoulders together. She stumbles from the unexpected weight, but before Steve can help steady her, she’s bumping back into him with a happy laugh.
No matter how this all goes down, he can’t regret it, not when it brought the revelation that is Chrissy Cunningham into his life.
Settled into their usual chairs squeezed tightly together, she opens the letter and slides it closer to him. Steve’s eyes devour each word as she sits idly by, waiting for his response.
         Secret Admirer,
         Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.
         I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?
         Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.
         Sincerely,
         Eddie
         P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.
Steve doesn’t realize he’s sighing wistfully down at the page until he catches Chrissy hiding a smile behind her hand. He smacks her in the arm with a quiet, “shut up,” but his ears are already burning.
“Can I see?” she asks, and all the fondness floods back into him.
“Course,” he says, pushing it across. He watches her face avidly, heartbeat ratcheting up as he watches a smile bloom across her face.
“He’s sweet,” she says, smiling dreamily down at the page for a moment before looking up at him with waggling eyebrows he couldn’t have imagined seeing on her face even a week ago. “He wants to dream of you.”
Her voice warbles teasingly, and the warmth on his ears starts creeping onto his cheeks and down his neck. Unable to help himself, Steve shoves her arm again. “Shut up!”
All she does is laugh and latch onto him to keep herself upright.
“He wants to know you,” she says, still smiling, still teasing, but it’s okay when it’s her, not like Tommy’s cruel ribbing or Carol’s barbed words. “So, what do you want him to know?”
PART 4
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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 year ago
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𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one: I knew you were trouble // part two: would’ve could’ve should’ve
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_The Capitol's Dream girl was depressed. After Snow broke her heart and returned only to haunt her. It only takes an official marriage proposal on New Year's Day, an interview with Lucky Flickerman and a rebel bombing to completely break you, and make Snow realize there's a place for one last person to love for the rest of his life.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ 10k words fic ups, reader is depressed, blood, violence, angst, tears, drama, reader makes some cruel things, antidepressants, nothing wild but they have sex so mdni 18+ , Snow actually loves reader (well idk). I couldn't add anything about the games of Mags SORRY.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is Would've Could've Should've, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist. Also, listen to the 1 and memory lane!!!
♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
____________________________________
Nights were longer now. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of the games, how you contributed. The vivid image of the first time you saw Clemensia after the snake bite. Your mind made you recreate Sejanus being hanged in District 12. And finally, your mind also made you replay every moment you had with Coriolanus Snow since you met him at 17.
You wished you never asked to sit with him at lunch. You wished you never asked to see him again.
He would've been just another classmate. If the things that happened in the 10th Hunger Games were meant to be, at least you wouldn't have been involved.
It wouldn't have hurt you enough to feel so miserable in the present.
But this was as good as it was going to get.
You weren't the best driver, but since very few people had a car, you dared to take the one your chauffeur was meant to. It distracts you from staring at the window and overthinking.
Sometimes you wonder how it would've turned out if Snow won the prize without being a mentor, just like it was planned to happen. Would you have made a stop at his place? For him to get inside your car and kiss you good morning. Then drive to the University of the Capitol? Could've been fun.
But you made your way alone. Only listening to the music that played on the radio.
And you wondered what would've happened if Arachne was alive, Sejanus too, and Clemensia was fine to take classes in person. Would they have made fun of you and Snow entering University holding hands? Could've been sweet.
But again, you were alone. It's a cloudy day at The Capitol. Your long emerald green coat gets stuck with the car door. You roll your eyes, opening the damn door once again to set free the piece of fabric.
You started wearing high heels. It made you look taller and you loved the sound every time you stepped out of your home. Your mother had launched a new collection, and she loved seeing you wearing her creations.
For the record, you haven't seen Coriolanus Snow since the day you had your first counselor appointment. That was a month ago, and it was… great.
Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…
A lot of people greeted you, but none were your friends. You see, the University isn't very different compared to the Academy. The same architecture, and familiar faces that no longer wear the red uniform. And even so, you feel like a fish out of water.
Life isn't perfect. But you weren't ready to start your young adult days feeling so out of breath.
"Y/n!…" you turn to encounter Persephone. A sweet girl from the Academy.
"Persephone. Hi…" You do your best to smile. She was a classmate from the Academy. And she never was your friend but you always thought she was so sweet.
"How have you been? You're all over the news" For the first time in weeks you giggle, feeling a little blushed. The feeling of someone asking you how you were doing felt so good.
"I've had better days. But here we are… And you?" She tilts her head.
"I visited my grandma's lake house in District 4. It was so good. I heard you're in the science and law program" you nod. You also knew Persephone was on the law program.
"Yeah, you're in law too…."
"Is Coriolanus going to be there too?" You stop smiling.
In fact, you weren't sure. But probably he would also be in law. Tigris once said he wanted to pursue politics.
"I'm not sure… We-…we don't talk anymore" she gasped in shock.
"What? Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"
"No. But it's fine. He must be doing great…" you cut her off before she can ask more questions.
Your first class was okay. Until Snow walked in, wearing a perfect dark blue suit. His silly hair looked slightly longer than the last time you saw him, but still, nothing compared to his messy hair from months ago. You pretend you didn't see him, opting to keep writing something in your journal. But he had to stop beside you. There are some minutes of silence, but nothing would make you turn to knowledge of his presence.
"Can I sit with you?" His voice is colder again. You can notice through a little glimpse of a white rose decorating his suit. But you keep your eyes set on the page in front of you.
And you know you won't fail again.
"No."
He can feel the venom in your voice.
"I'm sitting here." He says after all.
You really don't have time to tear up on the first day of University. You want to stand up and leave, but you're so mature that you won't say anything else.
At least, for the rest of the class, he doesn't say anything else, but you know he occasionally turns to see you.
"Is it gonna be like this forever?" He asks when it's over. You dare to see him in the eyes, enchanting blue as always. But the young man in front of you isn't the boy you met. And yet, he still made your heart beat like he was the same who was once your lover.
"I don't have time for this. Have a nice day, Snow'' he looks as you leave the classroom. His hands shook, and that feeling of guilt assaulted him once again. You are the proof alive of all the pain he caused. So he needs to have you back on his side, so he can feel some humanity remaining in him after all the things he did months ago. Because he knows there's no good left on him, but he can't get rid of you like he did with Sejanus, Highbottom… and Lucy Gray.
You were meant for him. But he was so infatuated with the other girl. And Snow was aware that you deserve the best. You were his ally since day one. So having you by his side again… would seal his imaginary pact.
He looks at you and sees the girl that gave him the chance of his life. He promised his grandma'am you would be the girl he would give a home and a family.
But now, every time he asked Tigris how you were, she avoided giving details. grandma'am was growing suspicious that things weren't going great. Tigris had been a lot of times on your house and mother's shows. Your father would ask for Coriolanus but he didn't know all the things the young man did to his daughter.
So Tigris would say he was still serving as a peacekeeper. And you, you would say you haven't talked a lot with him.
Not anymore. Coriolanus would try every day. As he denied he loved you, he pretended he needed you as you were the one. Just that.
"Y/n y/l/n." Suddenly a peacekeeper comes to you.
"Yes?" You ask politely.
"Dr. Gaul demands your presence in her laboratory" you sigh. Of course, she would be the first to ask to see you.
It was the same laboratory. Only that now was near. The way to get there was slow, even peaceful. Maybe because the day was almost over.
The first thing you notice is how many empty water tanks are scattered.
"There you are, Ms. Y/l/n" she appears from the crystal stairs at the end of the room. Wearing a yellow set that made her eyes more bright. Her hair is the same. Looking as evil and cynic as always.
"Dr. Gaul" you greet. Stopping some feet away from her.
"A school new year means new planning ahead" You nod. Already hearing what she was about to say. Well, not entirely.
"The last games were a mess. Between the rebels and Mr. Snow's bright decisions. Our central ideas couldn't be fulfilled. However, I decided to give him another chance, there's so much potential in that boy" You don't know how to feel about that. So you just remain quiet.
"Speaking of the devil…" when you turned back, Snow was walking towards you and the woman near you. Immediately you avoided his eyes, knowing he was probably looking at your dress. The coat was long gone, leaving a soft and accentuating pink dress with long sleeves.
He knew it was inappropriate. But ever since he gained your trust and his feelings of attachment to you, he had a long time to accept he had a thing for your hips. The dress was extremely simple but looked elegant with some bright exotic earrings, and it was your body that created the most attractive shape he'd ever seen.
And soon, his view of you became sided.
"I believe I don't need to remind you of your actions from the last games, Mr. Snow," the woman said.
"It won't happen again." He answered with confidence.
"I know it won't happen again," Gaul says laughing. Making you wonder how much time she had been trying to get into the position she was now.
"This year, let's say you'll be under probation, Mr.Snow. On the other hand, Ms. y/l/n. Another year and another success from you" his eyes were on you again. Turned to his left without shame. And that's when Snow remembered since he came back from District 12 how smart you were. Without saying anything, even avoiding it, you knew he had cheated on the games. And probably, without talking to him anymore, you knew he wasn't a good man.
Only that…slowly, you were also turning into a bad woman.
"Those water creatures are fully developed. They're nothing compared to the snakes from last year. This new invention has marked a new era for us…" To be honest, you don't know how to feel about it. Everything related to the games made you remember your dear friend Sejanus Plinth. He would've hated this creation from you. But on the bright side, this was your future. These were the constant obstacles you would have if you were to achieve success.
"Dr. Gaul. An emergency message has been sent to y/n y/l/n" Immediately you turned confused looking at a new peacekeeper. When you look at your mentor, she nods, indicating to you that you're allowed to leave.
"Excuse me." As you walk away, another peacekeeper has a cable phone. One of the newest wireless ones. Red and shiny, silently beeping. You can hear Snow asking Dr. Gaul something, but the sound of your heels is loud enough to make it difficult to understand as you reach the phone
The peacekeeper hands the cable phone. You pick up, feeling your heart pounding.
"Hello?" The low breathing of your mother can be heard.
"Darling! Something bad happened…"
"What?" You ask. And you don't know but Snow is trying so hard to listen to your conversation.
"Our mines in District 12. Your father made a little trip there with some friends. The people caused a revolt. They bombed the mines." You frown, in shock. Already feeling anger building up in your chest.
"Is pa' okay?" She sighs, which stresses you more.
"Some burns. The peacekeepers saved him on time" Snow listens to Gaul but he literally has an ear on you and the other in the mentor.
"Is it too bad? Like… putting our wealth in danger?" You whisper the last sentence. Your mother is a proud woman. But in the privacy of her family, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.
"I don't know, darling. We still have the mines in District 1. But the ones on the 12 represented greater materials" There's no time to cry and you know it.
So after some soothing words to your mother, you hang up. And you're not thinking clearly. You just know you're angry, and convinced someone had to pay. If you started disliking District 12 after the last games, now it was getting personal.
When you go back to stand beside Snow. You hear Gaul explaining to him how most of the lessons would go. But as soon as she turns back to you, there's an idea that leaves your mouth before you can breathe or blink.
"I was about to say that we should change the arena of the games. Each year it should change, like the seasons. Wasting the opportunity to use the water mutts sounds like a waste of potential for the views. If we still want a spectacle like the one from last year." The woman analyses your words. And after some seconds of silence, she speaks.
At the same time, Snow can't comprehend how poisonous you sound. He knew the call enraged you, it must've been bad.
"Then I'll ask you to find some suggestions for the arena"
"And… I have some ideas for this year Reaping" the woman's evil smile grows. She knows she's turning two young adults into monsters.
"I can't wait till Summer of next year" Gaul giggles, then lets you go, commenting that the next day the actual lessons would begin.
You sigh once she leaves. Finally acknowledging what you just did. Dooming a bunch of kids to fight for their lives with those water monsters. You remember Sejanus. The way he screamed in anger when his tribute was punished for trying to escape.
You're also a monster.
Snow turns to your side, looking as if you have just been cut with something, and he's searching for the wound.
"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks worriedly, caressing your forearm.
"Your beloved district 12. That's what happened." You spit with venom, squirming away from him.
Your harshness takes all over the place as you move away from him.
It's New Year's Day. A bright morning, and you already have your first guest. Clemensia Dovecote.
She still wears turtlenecks. But the gloves are gone. You can't stop smiling after seeing her smile and laugh as she drinks tea on your patio.
"I can't believe it worked, y/n," she says changing the subject. The first dose you gave her was after the games, in late summer. And now, at the peak of winter, Clemensia looked amazing. The cracked and raspy yellowish skin she had, the bright yellow eyes that contrasted her dark brown irises, all of that was mostly gone.
"To be honest, me neither…" you admit smiling proudly. Her skin looked slightly covered in scales, but the texture was soft. Like a snake that shines with a new layer of skin. Her eyes were still a little yellow, but the white was coming back.
"How did you come up with it? The treatment and everything?" you gulp nervously, sipping at your tea. If you opened your mouth, there would be no turning back.
Clemmie knew Snow had cheated, she swore to keep quiet about it. She knew about his exile. But she didn't know everything.
Then you thought you owed nothing to Snow. He owed you a lot, and yet, the way he paid was… cruel.
The only thing you were not in your right to share was about… the boy he killed. And as you'd never know he killed many more, Clemmie wouldn't either.
"He chose her. The songbird" Clemensia's eyes widened, she left the cookie she was about to eat.
"No…" you nod, confirming your words.
"Yes. During the games… he sacrificed everything for her. When I confronted him, he said nothing. After he was exiled, he committed a bribe to ensure his service as a peacekeeper on the 12" you spit with hate. The pride you carried each day, had a big crack thanks to that man, and like broken porcelain, it would never be healed.
"But he only had eyes for you… The Christmas after you arrived here, I asked him out and he said he had eyes on someone else. I can't believe him…" you giggle, rolling your eyes.
"He only had eyes for my money and father's position. He had the chance to win the prize and got obsessed with winning something by himself. The girl was just the cherry on top" You quickly added more as you were about to reveal he was… poor. Not because of him, but for Tigris and her grandmother. Tigris would lose her job and your mother would likely turn her down. So no, you weren't as bad as Snow yet.
"After he left. I realized how much he traced the scar on my face. I simply started hating it. And sooner I dreamed I had it gone. So I thought… Why can't I make something for my dear Clemensia and myself at the same time?" The black haired inspected your face.
"Your scar…" she remembered your face back then. The long pink line across your face. Clemensia did once see Snow caressing your face, his thumb traced the line across your nose until it landed on your lips.
Not it was just a memory as your scar. It was gone. Your face is clean, shiny, and perfect. Too bad that just your face was able to get rid of the touch of Snow.
You can't tell her he asked you to marry him. That was embarrassing enough to say it out loud.
"That's now the boy I knew. He had always been a little cold but… he was good. Now… I just can't stand what he did to you. And while I'll thank you for the rest of my life, you helped with my condition. I will ever feel sorry that you came up with it from such pain" Maybe before the bite, Clemmie was a little narcissistic. And her ambition led her to lie and get bitten. But now, she was all about being thankful and seeking peace everywhere.
"It's okay, Clemmie. Even after all, with Sejanus gone, all of what happened last summer… I'm happy that I have you" she smiles, offering you a big hug.
"Yeah, you won't get rid of me next year" She was officially coming back to class at the University after the winter break was over. Now Snow wouldn't be able to sit next to you.
"I won't mind…" Suddenly your mother comes out from one of the many balconies of your house.
"Girls! The stylist is here!" She lets you and Clemmie know.
This year, the annual New Year's Day will be at your house. The patio where you had breakfast and tea with your friend was already decorated with long tables. Porcelain plates are perfectly accommodated with wine velvet bows decorating them.
Clemensia's father talks with you about the revolt in District 12 and the burns he got. After that… more peacekeepers were sent. And slowly… the whole territory was becoming marginalized.
You ignore it, you only have eyes for the dress writing you on the other side.
When you open the door of your room, there it is.
A golden dress. Shinny and full of sequined beats. With metallic gold puffy fabric resting on your lower half back and ending around your wrists. Bare shoulders style.
You feel bad for not asking Tigris to style you, but she was already busy.
"I... I can't believe this…" you gasp, touching the elegant fabric of the dress. Clemmie can't stop saying how beautiful the dress is.
"With red lipstick and burnt pink eyeshadows… it'll look fantastic," the stylist says to your mother, already visualizing the look.
The patio is full of people. Elegant bonfires make everyone warm. Most of the guests look at your dress as you greet them. The last guests were Tigris and her grandmother, you placed them both in a table full of fashion contacts of your mother.
Clemmie is talking with Festus, Persephone, and other classmates.
Everything goes well until you set your eyes on the garden's entrance and you spot Snow entering.
Your eyebrows immediately frown. The night had been peaceful. And ever since winter break started, you haven't heard of him.
Why did he have to come? Was it for his grandmother?. Doesn't matter, you don't want him in your house.
He spots you and knows you just turned angry. You grab him by the arm and pull him away.
"What are you doing here?" You ask annoyed.
"You invited Tigris and Grandma'am" he shrugs.
"Yes. Tigris and Grandma'am. Not Tigris, Grandma'am, and Coriolanus" For the first time in months, you say his name.
"I have to talk to your father," he admits. You are confused, but he won't say anything yet.
"You look lovely tonight" You ignore the praise in his voice. But he genuinely believes you look astronomically beautiful. Snow was trying to act confident, but deep down he was nervous.
And it worsened when your dad interfered.
"Coriolanus. I'm glad you made it on time. Just an hour away till the countdown" you turn to see your father, offering him a glass of champagne. Neither of you should be drinking yet. But the elite of The Capitol was allowed to break the rules a little.
"No, of course I couldn't. I was just saying how gorgeous y/n looks tonight" your father smiles. You knew your father was believing Snow, that he was a gentleman.
"My one and only child. Perfect as always…" your father answers, putting his arm around your shoulders.
"I would like to discuss something with you. In private…" your heart beats faster.
"Be my guest, boy…" he tells him to enter the party. And as they leave you feel nauseous.
There are twenty minutes left till New Year's Day. Your father hasn't come out with Coriolanus yet. You nervously want to chew your nails. But you do your best for Clemmie. It was her first public appearance since the summer.
You had been trained to satisfy The Capitol's expectations since you were a kid. You knew what you could and couldn't do.
But none had prepared you to hide your shock.
"Dear guests. Family and friends. I would like to give an announcement" Your father appears, the sound of the glass capturing everyone's attention.
"With a new year around the corner, changes are too."
It couldn't…
Snow walked through the tables, towards you.
No, no, no, no.
"It is my pleasure to announce the engagement between Coriolanus Snow and my only daughter, y/n"
You swear you can't breathe.
You don't see Clemmie's face of horror. Tigris is highly confused. Grandma'am at the verge of tears.
"For my darling and her fiancé. Whom I wish eternal luck and happiness" your father finishes the toast.
Snow is beside you, he's not happy either. But he is the first one to start acting for the sudden flashes and cheering.
"How couldn't you tell me you wanted to get married, dear?" Your father asks, being the first person to hug you.
Your shock is so big that you don't even remember smiling for the pictures. You don't remember feeling his hand around your shoulders. You don't remember bursting into the house.
Snow follows you. It's empty, everyone is cheering because the countdown is about to start.
He calls your name. But you don't listen. He follows you through the kitchen and living room.
"WHAT?" You explode before being able to go upstairs.
You see his desperate eyes.
"I didn't know your father was going to announce it that way." He notices your face is red from anger.
"Listen to me, Coriolanus Snow. NO MAN will come and take away the pride of the woman I am." You scream in his face. You won't go quiet like the first time.
"YOU WERE NOTHING!. YOU OWE ME YOUR LUCK!" Snow can only fix his eyes on the sequins of your dress. He had never seen you screaming like that. And nobody would hear anyway.
"If this was your way to make me surrender and get me back. You're so wrong. Because you are going to be in debt with me for the rest of your life. Unless you want a rebel wife like it was your beloved Lucy Gray Baird." His eyes widened at your sudden attack. He has to process every word, every disgusted face you are making. He hadn’t thought about the songbird in many days. Hearing her names sent chills to his spine.
"I wanted this to be different. I had to "You hate him. You can't stand seeing him in his perfect grey suit, his perfect hair and eyes. You really hate him.
"YOU HAD NOTHING!. IF YOU WERE GONNA HUMILIATE ME LIKE THAT, YOU HAD TO GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG TO MARRY ME!" Whisking away, he grabs your hand, and when you turn, you find him on his knees.
"Please…" you feel he placed the ring in your hand. And it's too much.
You slap him. And then run away to your room.
As you lock the door, you throw the ring. And when tears start streaming down like a waterfall, you hear the first fireworks.
There's a bottle of pills in your vanity. The treatment for your low mood. You only need it once in a day. But you take two hoping it would knock you out and make you forget about the night.
It's officially a new year.
Three weeks later, Lucky Flickerman is interviewing you and Snow in his late-night show. You can't stand how Snow is caressing your hand. The way he slightly giggles and smiles at you, whenever there is a silly question.
You only do this because nobody knows the truth. Just Clemensia and Tigris.
"Sources tell us that it'll be a spring wedding. Is that right, y/n?" The man asks. You sigh, smiling.
'We're not sure yet, Lucky. There are so many details. Especially with my dress. But my man here is patiently waiting" the interviewer laughs, throwing a sarcastic comment about the dress.
"And what about kids? Is a baby on the plans?" Immediately, both of you blush.
"Yes. We want to have kids one day" Snow hurries to answer. You want to laugh.
He would be a terrible father. Some days ago, he was at your house for a family gathering and while he liked seeing you with your baby cousins, he knew he wasn't good with them. He didn't know how to play or make them laugh. But he had to make everyone believe he was a man of family and marriage. Even when both of you were still nineteen.
"Oh. Well, you're still young. There's plenty of time, pair of lovebirds" You make the strength to turn and smile at Snow. He returns you the smile.
And he wants to believe it's an honest reaction from you. He really hates that everything happened this way. He wanted to wait personally and privately ask you to marry him again. Not like this.
"Y/n… How did you know Coriolanus was the one?" It takes you aback. You can't lie. There's a truth.
"When I met him, he made me feel comfortable. He was so sweet and he trusted me. He made it hard for me not to love him. He has these gorgeous ocean eyes, that every time I see him I get lost in them. It reminds me of the kind boy I met some time ago…" Everyone feels emotional. Coriolanus is aware of the real meaning behind your words, and he can't help but honestly smile. He knows he realized it, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.
"These ladies and gentlemen… is a couple in love!" Lucky laughs and points at you and Snow excited. And he says that he'll be back with the broadcast for the weather, he thanks you and your fiancé for being there.
"Take care, guys. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!, I'll get some people inside to bring the news anyways…"
And finally, both of you are behind the set. You don't even glance at Snow. But he hurries to stop you, interfering in your way.
"I'm sorry. For everything…" you cross your arms.
"No. You hate me. That's why you keep doing this to me…"
Your assistant appears handing you a glass of water and a little plate of something Snow can't see.
"Here's some water and your antidepressants, miss" You blush and ignore the way your fiancé is looking.
As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.
You stare at the public library. Now closed just for your wedding happening in a couple of hours.
There are white roses everywhere. Petition of your mother to commemorate Snow and his family. You hated it.
It ended up being a spring wedding. But a very cold one. By early June, summer would start. And for now, snowflakes still fell upon The Capitol.
"The dress is ready…" Tigris says, appearing on your side. She sees how you stare at the whole place with dismay.
"How could this happen?" She asks, wondering.
"My younger self would've loved this day. But now… is different" You didn't want to insult her cousin.
"His younger self would've also loved this" Tigris remembered how enchanted was Coriolanus for you. Saying that he made a rich friend who was so sweet. Soon he admitted you were gorgeous and delicate. Now forgetting to mention you only when Grandma'am asked.
"He's trying to get you back," Tigris adds. And you question it.
Ever since the engagement. He always reached for you. Asking how you were. The kisses on the cheek to greet you. Felt honest. But you doubted you would ever forgive him. Even if you ended up having his children someday…
"I know it won't change anything. But I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this…" the young woman lamented. After you confessed most of the things Snow did to you, she added that to her list. And slowly, Tigris had slightly brushed aside her cousin.
"I didn't. But what's pissing me off is the wedding night" Tigris coughed awkwardly. And you rolled your eyes.
"No, Tigris. It's not about the sex. It's about me having to leave my house forever. I refuse…" She relaxed.
Honestly, you hadn't thought about sex. You knew it would happen anytime after marrying. But you wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction to even give hints.
At least, your father suggested Snow temporarily move in with you in your room since his new penthouse would be only for Tigris and grandmother. He would sleep in your tub.
"It's a great place for a honeymoon. Capitol's north is full of mountains, fancy restaurants, and actual snow" Somehow, you laugh.
"Fitting for my new legal name" Tigris joins you and laughs, hugging you tightly.
You stare at the flowers, and the hundreds of seats, and you aren't ready. But there's a smile on your face. Because at that point you don't even care.
Coriolanus was alone. He thinks Sejanus could've been there. Annoying and smiley as always, but he would've been the best man. Chosen by him because there wasn't another option. But it's only him. Staring at his mother's ring.
Pure gold, a medium size rectangle-shaped diamond. Shining ridiculously in white and small rainbows.
You look just like your father on his wedding day.
Your mother was so happy. Spinning and laughing as your father danced with her.
Remember. As you take a wife, you are choosing a life partner. You have to remember every morning why you chose her. You have to respect and protect her. Give her a home, a warm place to grow old together.
Y/n is the perfect woman for you. She's so lucky to have you, my boy.
All of those things, Grandma'am had said to him as she handed the ring.
And now sitting alone in a room. Suit ready, in black, and very little gold details in the white shirt under. Tigris said it was going to match your dress.
Your father actually loved your mother, Coriolanus. Treat her right. That is the least you could do…
She knew. Tigris had to know everything.
Coriolanus wondered how you would look. A princess-style dress? Maybe velvet? And he imagined your face.
That's when he can't take it anymore. He cries. Because everything was going to be a lie. He cries because it could've been true. If only he had made better decisions. If only you weren't so smart that you discovered him.
He's a broken man.
But he grips the ring on his palm. Wiping the tears and deciding that he's never going to fail you again. As he knew you had never failed him. And even when you hated him, neither you would.
There are three mirrors. Your hands trace the shiny beats of your dress. From the strips to your breasts, to your waist and hips. The end was full of them. Combining gold, and even dark brown or grey. It was simple, slightly sheer. But extremely elegant. Made with crystals from your family's mines. Representative of your native District 1. Your hair is down, perfectly cut in that shag haircut you had when you were a teen. It fits perfectly with your veil. Also covered in tiny pieces of crystals that cover your head, to the tail of the dress.
You looked like a Capitol's bride.
And for some reason, you can't find the tears. It's just you staring at the mirrors. Accepting your doomed life.
As you open the door, you know there are already tears on everyone but you.
Clemensia, Persephone, your mother, and Tigris sob and look at you in shock.
"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.
They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.
"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.
"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.
She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.
"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.
Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.
"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.
"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.
"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.
"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.
"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.
"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.
Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.
"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.
"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.
The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.
Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.
For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.
He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?
Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?
Would you forgive him if that was the case?
You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.
You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.
You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.
And you can't turn to see him.
There are many people taking pictures of you and him.
Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.
When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.
"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.
It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.
You just see him and you realize he's your man now.
Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.
In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.
You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.
The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.
Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.
For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.
There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.
You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.
You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.
He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.
He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?
That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.
During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.
When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.
Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.
You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.
Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.
But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.
So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.
Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.
Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.
You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.
"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.
Then you lean, inches away from his lips.
" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.
He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.
You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…
It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.
Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.
Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.
And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.
All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.
And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.
Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.
Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.
At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.
Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.
The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.
You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.
Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.
Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.
"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.
He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.
You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.
"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.
He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.
Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.
He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.
"Thank you." You say to him.
"Of course."
After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.
When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.
He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.
He calls your name but you don't respond.
Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.
A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.
He runs and kneels beside you.
"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.
"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.
He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.
"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.
He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.
"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.
"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.
There's chaos on the streets.
And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.
"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.
A woman listens and calls for a man.
"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.
"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.
It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.
It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.
"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.
"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.
The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.
"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.
"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.
He kisses your forehead.
"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.
And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.
"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.
"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.
You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.
As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.
You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.
"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.
"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.
"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.
"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.
Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.
And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.
He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.
Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.
Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.
But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.
"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.
"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.
He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.
He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.
Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.
He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.
"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.
You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.
"I love you."
You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.
He's still smiling.
You know he killed two people, probably three.
You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.
You know he's not the best person.
You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.
You know he caused you so much pain.
And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.
"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.
"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.
"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.
"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.
"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.
"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.
"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.
"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.
"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.
"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.
"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.
He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.
And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.
And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.
Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.
The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.
You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.
"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.
And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.
"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.
"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.
"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.
"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.
"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.
"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.
Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.
You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.
Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.
Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.
Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.
I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.
You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.
Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.
And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?
Dr. Volumnia Gaul
No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.
So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.
There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.
When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.
The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.
Until you see what it is.
"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.
"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask
"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.
"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.
"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.
"They deserve this."
"You're right"
He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.
"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.
"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.
"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"
"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.
"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.
"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.
"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.
He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.
It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.
"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.
He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.
There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.
"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.
"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.
"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.
"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.
"Me neither…"
___________________________
Taglist: @sarnbarnes @user0440822 @poppyflower-22 @h-l-vlovesvintage @zxrcle @gloryekaterina @dakotali @especiallythewomenandthechildren @mymadokamagica @drvnkn-dazed
In my head… this was the wedding dress<3
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months ago
Text
ditchin'
for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'dress'
rated t | 350 words | cw: referenced recreational drug use, language | tags: secret relationship, season 2
👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕👕
"Maybe if you didn't dress like that, people wouldn't think you're a fuckin' freak."
The words ring out in the cafeteria, followed by the loudest silence Steve's ever heard. He doesn't even recognize the guy who says it.
He recognizes who he says it to, though.
Eddie Munson is standing at his usual table, lunchbox in hand, looking like he's scared for the first time in all the years he's been the target for every bully in school. Steve is half-tempted to step in, but he knows what will happen the moment he does.
He can't afford to be labeled a freak, even if he is almost done with this place.
Eddie's friends at the table start to stand up, maybe to defend him, maybe to run, but he holds up his hand. They sit back down.
"Have you considered that the way a person dresses doesn't deem them a freak?" Eddie asks, surprisingly confident. "Maybe it's something else that makes me a freak. The best you can do is chalk it up to my clothes? Do better."
Steve can't hold back the laugh he huffs out, drawing attention from the surrounding tables.
And Eddie.
"Even Harrington agrees with me. If you're gonna be an asshole, at least be creative."
Steve looks down at the table, face heating up at the attention he's receiving.
He used to love it, being the center of attention, all eyes on him.
But now he thinks he'd be a lot happier if only one set of eyes stayed focused on him. The set of eyes that bore into his only a few nights before when they were getting high in his bedroom.
Steve stands to leave. Eddie's got this under control. The other guy's already bored. It's not even gonna turn into a fight at this point.
It's not like Steve would win if he tries to defend Eddie anyway.
He's by his car when Eddie catches up to him.
He doesn't say anything at first, just lets his fingers wrap around Steve's wrist, squeezing once.
Steve smiles. "Wanna ditch?"
"With you? Of course."
383 notes · View notes
onlyjaeyun · 9 months ago
Text
𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟑𝟖
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫
⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔
⤥ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟕𝐤
⤥ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐱 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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Up until you were four years old, christmas used to be your favorite holiday. You still remember your late mother’s tradition of hanging stockings with your names right next to the tree she had spent hours decorating and each year you’d watch your father get more and more excited about coming home to his girls to finally spend some time with the ones he loved the most.
In the year your mother had passed away, your father hadn’t even bothered to set up a tree, decorate the house or even buy you a little something. To your luck, your maternal aunt had made it her mission to carry on her sister’s tradition, so that was how you had found yourself at a dinner table with your dearest people, eating and laughing, forgetting about the pain in your chest for just a little while.
In the following years, your stepmother had never tried to recreate any of your old traditions and after a while you had stopped asking for it. By the time you had reached your pre-teen years, you were the older sister and maternal figure to two little boys, trying your best to give them memorable christmas memories and even going as far as saving up every cent you had received to buy them presents. You still remember the way Riki’s little face had lit up the second you had handed him that tiny little box with an action figure he had been asking for for months at that time.
As you two had grown older, your friend circle expanding and the concept of a found family becoming more and more right, you had started your annual friendsmas dinners, a tradition Jaeyun introduced you to all the way back in middle school and ever since that, every one of you had always made sure to find at least one day during the holiday season, which was exclusively reserved for your real family.
Maybe the comfort of your favorite people sitting at the dinner table, laughing and enjoying each other’s presence and knowing they’re the ones you feel the safest with is what makes it so much easier to spend so much time in such close proximity to the young man who’s been involuntarily spending a lot of time in your thoughts.
You hate Park Sunghoon. You hate him for looking as good as he does, for his soothing voice, his pretty smile and his dry humor. You hate how much you have to hold yourself back from laughing along to his silly little jokes and puns, and you can’t stand how badly you want to be even closer to him.
When he arrived with the beverages and a shit ton of snacks a few hours earlier, you physically couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. The dress shirt he’s wearing hugging his muscular torso in just the right places and his sweet scent – a combin of his aftershave and cologne – driving you into absolute insanity and if it wasn’t for the other boys being extra attentive, you would have pulled him into your room just to get another taste of him.
Yet every single time you catch yourself staring at him, your chest tightens and your little self is yelling and screaming at you for betraying her like that.
Because, no matter how much you deny it, you don’t actually hate Sunghoon as much as you want to. There’s no way you could ever feel as comfortable and at ease around someone you hate.
You two had managed to get along with each other for your friends’ sake, especially your younger brother’s, so why have things suddenly taken such a big turn? Was it the sex? Was it the kisses you’ve been daydreaming about? Was it the feeling of the way he’s shown you a side of yourself you’ve always been too afraid to look into? Or was it the way your tummy did this very special kind of flip whenever he buried his face in your neck, telling you how good you make him feel and how he’s gonna make sure to ruin you for every other man on this planet?
After all these years filled with hatred and wrath, anger and disappointment, the deep feeling of betrayal and not knowing why he never talked to you again after you had spent so much time and tears trying to understand where you had gone wrong, you just don’t know what to do with yourself.
Your younger self is losing her mind over your current thoughts about your biggest enemy but you…don’t actually mind them. There’s a weird sense of peace and comfort which comes with the thought of allowing yourself to feel something else beside the darkness of hate and wrath, something you’ve never actually felt with anyone before.
And as those thoughts fill your head, you can’t help but feel your chest tightening at the fact that there’s never been anyone like Park Sunghoon to you. You still remember the times you’d come running to his door, tears streaming down your chubby cheeks as you tried to understand why your father had suddenly started to hate you, only for Sunghoon to be the one to comfort you and make sure you know your worth regardless of others perception of you.
Riki and Tsuki as well as all the other boys have always been there for you, yet during those times where you didn’t have anyone, it was Park Sunghoon who held you in his arms.
All these years you had tried your best to push aside all those memories of all the times he had brought a smile onto your lips right before wiping your tears away and distracting you; the fact he didn’t know any better because of just how young you two were breaking your heart into millions of pieces.
You still remember the day you had decided to do what you thought was best and quit the one thing that had never failed to comfort your young soul during the darkest times, the fear of losing your best friend consuming your brain in ways you have yet to process and thinking about it now, almost a decade later, you still can’t help but feel tears welling up in your eyes as pain and sadness fill your chest.
In no universe could anything have prepared you for the actual outcome of a decision you had made for nobody but the person you loved the most, the sacrifice bigger than your young mind could have comprehended and the more you think about it, the angrier you get.
Of course Sunghoon had the right to be angry at you, but even now you can’t understand why he just never talked to you again. You had already accepted the possibility of losing him over your big decision, this wasn’t about you only, yet no matter how much time passes, you just can’t get yourself to forgive him for putting you through the heartbreak of abandoning you when you had needed him the most.
“It’s time for secret santa, bitches!”
The loud yelling of your best friend right beside your ear brutally pulls you out of your sad ride down memory lane and with your brows furrowed in confusion you stare at Jaeyun, leaving him just as perplexed.
“It’s time for secret santa…ladies?”
As those words leave his lips, you physically can’t stop the hideous chuckle from bubbling up your throat, throwing your head back and punching your best friend's arm with your fist.
It’s in moments like this where you realize just how much you appreciate the people you’ve been calling your family for longer than you can remember, knowing they’d never fail to pull you back to reality without even trying.
It doesn’t take much for everyone to get even louder as a discussion about the present order stirs up and before anyone can get a little too worked up about it, you decide to opt for your usual routine.
“I fucking hate being the oldest”, Heeseung pouts and doens the rest of his wine in one sip, his eyes rolling back as he lifts his middle finger up in the direction of your three youngest who have never let the opportunity pass to tease him for his age.
As the presents are being opened one by one, you attentively look at the little box in your hand, the name tag printed out to avoid anyone giving away their identity through their handwriting, a rule Jongseong had come up years ago and the longer you eye your neatly wrapped present, the more you wonder what it could be.
The fact you have absolutely no idea who your secret santa is, something you’ve always been bad at when it came to this part of your friend group’s tradition, Park Sunghoon can’t help but feel his heart thrumming in his throat at the thought of your reaction.
In all those years, you two had actually managed to never pick each other – until this year. Sunghoon still remembers the way his heart had dropped when he had read your name on the little note, a ton of ideas instantly popping up in his head only for his younger self to take them all and stomp them to the ground.
However, after a whole decade of letting his angry pre-teen self win those fights, Sunghoon has decided to finally put an end to the feud between the two of you and for once in his life the stars were on his side.
It took him exactly a month to come up with the perfect secret santa present for you, one that’d not only show you how over the ongoing war between you two he is, but also one he could use as a way to maybe win you over again.
If someone had told him about the thoughts he’d have about you only four months prior to this friendsmas dinner, Sunghoon would have told them to stop wasting his time because in no way could he have imagined things to turn out like this. But now? Now he’s genuinely excited and actually nervous about your reaction to the present he had gotten you and the most important part about it all is the fact he’s not even mad about feeling the way he does.
He still hates you.
But after all these years, he’s grown tired, mentally and physically exhausted of denying how much he actually wants you and how he’s always longed for your actual presence in his life.
It took quite a few conversations with Jaeyun to finally admit this to himself but at the end of the day Sunghoon knew there wasn’t a point in his denial so he’s just decided to accept things.
At the end of the day the day will come where he has to let you go completely and after years and years of emotional distance, Sunghoon has now come to the point where it just doesn’t make sense anymore.
He still hates you, with the entirety of his cold heart and yet he’s never, ever craved anybody’s touch and presence as much as yours. To admit to himself that all of this wasn’t just about the way you’ve mad ehim feel in a sexual manner was definitely one of the hardest pills he’s ever had to swallow but now that it’s gone and done, Hoon actually feels relieved.
Maybe that’s why he decided to opt for a present which carries a lot more sentimental value than any other gift he’s ever given but if life is on his side just this once, you probably won’t ever know who your secret santa is.
With his heart brutally hammering against his rib cage, Sunghoon carefully watches the way you clap your hands in excitement when your turn finally arrives.
For some reason, unusual silence fills your comforting living room as you gently rip apart the perfectly themed gift wrapper and reveal a tiny little jewelry box to everyone’s curious eyes.
“Oh?” You can’t help but mumble, a weird yet comfortable feeling settling into your muscles when you pull out the little car underneath the box, the boys quickly urging you to read it out loud, to your surprise however, it’s written in your mother tongue.
As it takes you a good second to translate the words on the little note, you gasp for air once your brain finally realizes what you’ve just read.
“Oh, come on! Don’t fuck with us!” Jungwon pouts and reaches for the card, only for his brows to furrow once he notices the foreign language.
“What? What is it?” This time it’s your brother’s voice and it’s then that you quickly get up and reach for the little card, the message too deep, too close to your heart to blurt out, even into your closest circle of friends.
“Open the box then!” Sunoo reminds you and it’s then that you find yourself holding onto your present like your life depends on it as your chest continues to tighten.
Just as the note had stated, you’re met with the sight of a beautiful ring, with your mother’s birthstone as the center of attention.
“Can I read it out loud?” Riki asks calmly, his voice slightly hoarse and strained, letting you and everyone else know just how emotional it’s gotten him as well. Unable to form another word, you nod.
“Dear Y/N”, your brother begins as the room falls silent once again, “if there’s one thing in this world that I’m actually sure about, it’s about how proud your late mother is of you and the woman you’re growing into every single day. Take this as a way to carry her by your side, as her birthstone reminds you of the great impact she’s had on your life and the ones of the people she was surrounded by. Sincerely, your secret santa.”
As you listen to the translation of the sweetest letter you’ve ever received you can’t help but actually let out a soft sob, the holidays being some of toughest times in your life since the passing of your mother and the fact you have people as caring and attentive as this in your life will probably remain one of the few things to break down those walls you had worked so hard to built.
“Oh wow”, Jongseong suddenly whispers and breaks the silence, his reaction finally making you look up from the ring just to be met with a bunch of teary eyes as they all take in a moment filled with such love and happiness.
“This is the sweetest and most thoughtful gift we’ve ever had in our secret santa round”, Wonie chuckles and quickly wipes away his tears, his usually so excited eyes filled with a pain that’s dedicated to you and the deep wound in your chest, this kind of compassion something you’ve only ever received from your closest friends.
“Thank you so much”, you whisper into the round and take the ring out of the box to gently put it onto your ring finger, the fit almost too perfect and with curious eyes you try your best to study the reactions of your friends to see if you can actually read their facial expressions for once during this part of your traditional dinner.
And just when you’re about to get confused because of the genuine surprise in everyone’s face, your gaze finally shifts to the one guy you’ve tried so hard not to fall for in these past few weeks, maybe even years but that’s something for another time.
Sunghoon almost looks like he’s been caught once your eyes meet and it’s that exact moment where you realise the identity of your secret santa.
However, the sudden and very urgent ringing of your doorbell comes to save the both of you from a confrontation neither is quite ready for just yet.
You might be naive or too deep in your denial, but for now you’re going to allow yourself to enjoy this present and the sentiment it comes with, rather than worry about whatever this heavy tension between you and your archenemy has suddenly turned to.
“I’ll go get it”, you quickly say and avert your gaze from Sunghoon’s dark eyes, too emotionally vulnerable to give yourself another minute of staring at him with everyone around, “Seungie open your present, I’ll be right back. It's probably just a neighbor!”
You basically jump out of your seat in hopes of escaping the thick tension between you and the only man you’ve ever been openly vulnerable with, something you just can’t seem to forget and as your shaky legs carry you to your front door, you wonder which one of your sweet neighbors is in such a rush to the point where breaking your doorbell was deemed necessary.
Now, there are quite a few faces and voices you expected, but definitely not the ones belonging to none other than your biggest walking nightmare.
With wide eyes and your heart instantly dropping into your stomach, you feel a wave of fear and anxiety overwhelm your senses as you stare right into the hateful, angry eyes of your stepmother.
“What the–”, “You ungrateful, spoiled, selfish whore of a girl”, she screams, intentionally raising the volume of her voice as her hurtful words start echoing in the hallway of your apartment building.
The sudden urge to just slam the door shut again to keep yourself safe and protected from the pain and heartbreak you know she’s gonna put yoj through becomes overwhelming but before your body can even react to the sheer amount of stress and anxiety rushing through your veins, she’s already pushed you to the side, letting herself inside of your home the same way she did almost two decades ago.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice is quiet, much calmer than hers and to your surprise you don’t seem to let her and her words get to you the way you normally would. It’s rather confusion you’re dealing with, since nothing or nobody could have prepared you for her presence. You haven’t seen her in almost five years after all, not after she had convinced your own, biological father to finally disown you after years and years of neglect and torture.
“I’m here to get what rightfully belongs to me and my daughter, the sister you abandoned!”
Her voice, its volume and her precise choice of words have always been something that never failed to trigger the weirdest reactions deep inside of your chest and before you can even think about anything else, you furrow your brows and finally get yourself to look into her eyes.
“Watch the way you talk to me in my own fucking home, you witch”, you spit right back at her, anger, wrath and frustration mixing in your veins the longer you look into her dark eyes, the resemblance to your brother’s so inhense, you can’t help but hate life for making him her carbon copy.
Riki has never looked at you with anything but love, compassion, empathy and kindness. His eyes have never failed to make you feel at ease and not once were they filled with disappointment and hatred, building the absolute contrast to the ones you’re currently staring into.
Just as expected, it doesn’t take much time for your friends to be alarmed by the sound of the rather unfamiliar voice.
“What’s going on? Mom, why the fuck are you here?”
Your stepmother seems appalled, shocked and utterly shocked at her son’s choice of words and as you watch the way her face drop only for her eyes to darken even further, you find yourself taking a step back to somehow protect yourself, only for a familiar scent to fill your nose.
However, in that moment you can’t get yourself to worry about how your lack of reaction to Sunghoon’s presence in your back might come across to the others in the room.
“You’re both a disgrace to our family name and I’m ashamed you’re both somehow related to me”, she snaps and quickly averts her gaze to fall on you again, her eyes filled with an even deeper hatred than before.
“Mom, what the fuck do you want from us? Weren’t we clear enough about our decisions? You can’t fucking force us to give you money we don’t even have!”
It’s in moments like these where you watch your younger brother turn back into the tiny little kid you had raised, the one who always tried to have your back and never let anyone hurt you even more. He seems so lost, so confused and overwhelmed and every time you’re met with the sight of his usually so kind eyes filled with nothing but pain and agony, you remember all the times he had cried in your arms asking why your parents never loved the two of you the way parents are supposed to.
“Money you don’t have?”, the sudden switch in language feels overwhelming, yet your brain quickly adapts to the change and for a moment you’re actually grateful, “why do you two live in an apartment like this then? You have a fucking internship and I know this loser has more than enough saved on the side.”
“We’re not gonna finance another one of your spoiled kids just because she thinks she’s entitled to go to a fucking boarding school”, Riki is quick to reply and internally you thank him for his speed, knowing she would have chewed you out by now if it wasn’t for him.
You can feel everyone’s eyes in your back, a wave of shame and guilt, anger and embarrassment spreading in your chest as you find yourself in another screaming match right in front of all of your friends just the way you used to back then.
Because, no matter what, your father and his wife had always made sure to humiliate and embarrass you in front of the only people you care about.
For a moment, your mind goes blank.
It feels like you’re ten years old all over again and your brain simply doesn’t know how to handle all the emotions washing over you. The urge to run away and hide in the darkest corner of your room the way you used to do it back when you were a little girl suddenly becomes overwhelming and yet, the strong presence in your back calms you down in a way you’ve never experienced it before. There’s just something so familiar and comforting about the knowledge that of all people, it’s Sunghoon who’s ready to step in if he needs to.
With your heart hammering against your rib cage you notice that a thin veil of tears has blurred your vision and as soon as your eyes meet your stepmother’s, you feel yourself snap back into reality.
She can’t hurt you anymore.
Your father isn’t there to defend and support her, nor are you alone with her.
It’s you and the only people who have ever cared about your wellbeing against her and you’d be damned if you didn’t use this to your advantage.
“She’s turned you into an even bigger hypocrite than herself!”
Those words, however, leave you speechless once again.
Agonizing silence erupts in the tiny space of your hallway and with big eyes you try your best to stay composed.
If there’s one thing you’ve always tend to forget about your stepmother is just how unhinged and reckless she can be. Everything she says and throws into your face is a weapon, something to hurt and break your soul with.
“What the fuck does that even mean? If there are any hypocrites in this fucked up family it’s you and your lousy excuse of a husband!”, Riki screams back at her, the volume of his voice so loud and unfamiliar, you can’t remember the last time you’ve heard him like this.
“Oh, really? So, she still hasn’t told you about it, hm?”
There’s only everbeen two times in your life where your elt your heart drop as hard and painful as right now and the longer you stare at the oman who was supposed to be your maternal figure, only to fail miserably, the tighter your chest becomes.
She hates you; there’s probably not an ounce of empathy or love for you in her cold heart, but she wouldn’t actually do this, not when it was the last thing you had begged her and your father for before you left your childhood home five years ago.
“Hasn’t told me what? What are you talking about? Stop fucking with me, Mom”, your brother presses through gritted teeth, his hands balled into tight fists, so tight his knuckles have turned white already and if it wasn’t for his two best friends holding his arms, you’re pretty sure he would have lost his composure already.
“Don’t”, you whisper and subconsciously reach for her, only for Sunghoon to quickly pull your arm back because he knows you’d never forgive yourself if you actually gave in to her manipulative tactics, “please, don’t. Not here. Not now.”
“Oh, now you know how to be polite? Fuck you”, your stepmother scoffs and rolls her eyes at you, stomping every tiny bit of hope you’ve had left into the ground just like that and as your brother’s head turns to look into your face, you realize there’s no way out but to accept your fate.
“She’s the biggest fucking hypocrite because every time you both accused us of favoritism, she turned around and did the same with you and her other siblings”, she suddenly begins and with your head hanging low, you know she’s going to expose you to the only people who have ever deemed you worthy of their love and trust, especially your brother.
“What?” Riki mumbles confused, his eyes nervously roaming your face as he looks for answers in your body language only to notice how defeated and exhausted you seem.
“If your father and I favored your to siblings over you two, then she made sure to do the same with you, too”, your stepmother repeated herself, her voice filled burning in your eardrum like venom, “because she went and gave up on her so called ‘biggest dream’ for you, yet can’t even get herself to contribute a single cent to her other siblings’ education.”
Silence.
Heartbreaking, soul shattering silence is the only thing to follow the hateful words of your brother’s mother.
For a moment, you’re pretty sure nobody in the room dares to take a single breather as they all take in Riki’s reaction to the one secret you’ve been keeping to yourself for so long, knowing he would have never forgiven himself if you had told him all those years ago.
“What?”
Sunghoon’s voice is the one to rip your heart into shreds and yet a huge wave of confusion hits you right afterwards, not quite understanding how in the world he could have understood when your stepmother had been talking in her mother tongue the whole time.
“Is that true?” This time your brother manages to form a coherent sentence, his voice so mall you’re afraid he’ll break if he spoke too loudly and for some reason, the only thing you can manage to respond with is a nod. Too ashamed of your secret, too afraid of his reaction.
Who could have blamed you for keeping this to yourself when Riki has been he first in your life to support you regardless of other people’s perception of you. No matter what, where or who it was about, your little brother has always been the one to have your back, so abandoning your dream in order to give him the opportunities you’ve never had seemed the only choice to make.
“What…the fuck?”, Riki breathes and stares at you through a thick veil of tears, his heart breaking into thousands of pieces as he realizes that he’s the reason behind the biggest sacrifice you’ve ever made in your life.
All this time he’d wonder why you had decided to abandon your dream to the point where even the sight of an ice rink broke your heart, only for his existence to be the answer.
“Say something”, your brother begs, his voice a mere whisper, “please, Y/N. Please, tell me you didn’t choose my future over your biggest passion.”
You can’t even get yourself to lift your head, the thought of looking into your brother’s eyes pushing you deeper into the darkness of your pain, only for Sunghoon to forcefully pull you out of it.
“That’s why you stopped skating?”
The question seems so random and out of place, not something you should be talking about in that moment and yet nothing has made more sense to him as this.
After almost a decade of wondering why you had decided to abandon not only your passion but him, your partner of four years, all your hard work and effort, Sunghoon has finally gotten his response, only for his heart to break all over again.
All of a sudden, he’s back at the ice rink, impatiently waiting for you to show up next to him as the host of the national competition announces your name for the third time. All of a sudden the same anger, disappointment and confusion fills his chest all over again and before he can even realize, he’s gasping for air.
“Hold the fuck up”, Riki suddenly intervenes, “why the fuck are you so fluent in Japanese?”
“You – understood what she said?”, is the only question you manage to form as you slowly turn around to face him, yet not bothering to step away from him because no matter what, if there’s one person whose anger has never, ever scared you, it’s Park Sunghoon’s.
In the deepest bits of your coldened heart, you always knew he’d keep you safe and sound, regardless of the hatred you two had built up for each other over the years.
He’s always been your safe place and as you look up to meet his gaze, you’re met with a look filled with nothing but genuine confusion and pain.
A pain so deep, so intense, you chest tightens with each breath you manage to take.
“Why – Why didn’t you just…tell me?” Sunghoon is now the one to whisper, his thick brows furrowed and when your brain finally processes his words, you can’t help but let the rage take over your pain for a minute.
“I fucking did”, you suddenly hiss and stare at him with tears streaming down your cheeks, the situation turning you both into your younger selves as you finally allied yourself to feel the anger and disappoint of being abandoned by one o the two people who your life had revolved around for so long.
“You were the only person I ever told about this in my letter”, the words leave your mouth before your brain can even overthink them, too much pent up frustration filling your veins for your body to handle, “and yet you chose to abandon and ignore me. You left me when I needed you the most, Park Sunghoon. You were the only hope I had left and what the fuck did you do instead? You left and never looked back, not once.”
For the first time in his life, Sunghoon feels absolutely speechless.
Your words, the anger and pain in your voice, your tears and little sobs make their way through his skull and yet, the entirety of his vocabulary seems to have vanished. Maybe it’s the sudden switch into his mother tongue or maybe, just maybe it’s the fact he has absolutely no idea what letter you’re actually referring to.
Tsuki is quick to be by your side, your brother still too overwhelmed by his mother’s words and her being the only one besides him and apparently your biggest enemy to understand the entire situation, you can’t help but bury your face in her shoulder and sob uncontrollably.
You’ve never said these words out loud. Years and years of built up pain you’ve had to lock away because the one person responsible for it had made it his life mission to let you know just how bad of a person you are to him.
All this time you tried to understand why Sunghoon had turned his back on you during the most difficult time in your life, when the only reason you had accepted your parents’ ultimatum was because you were so, so sure your best friend would find a solution.
But at the end of the day you were left with no dream and no best friend to rely on.
“What letter?”
For a moment, you’re more than just sure your brain has finally reached the state where you’re making up voices and words, only for Sunghoon to repeat his question, this time a lot firmer and even more confused than the first time.
“What the fuck do you mean? The letter I wrote for you the week before the competition”, you reply and look at him with furrowed brows and a heavy chest.
“Y/N”, Hoon whispers and for the first time in your life, you watch your former ice skating partner tear up, the sight of his pain filled eyes and the fact he had actually called you by your name to your face ripping you heart to shreds, yet not being enough to prepare you for the pain his following words would push you into.
“I never received a letter”, he whispers and looks at you, and only you.
“Wh-What? No, that’s not possible”, you stammer and try to make sense of what he had just told you, the aching of your heart spreading into your whole body to the point where every breath you inhale pushes you deeper into the comfort of your suffering.
“I have no idea what letter you’re talking about”, Sunghoon repeats himself and gulps harshly, swallowing his tears as his expression hardens, yet the agony remains lingering underneath the surface, “all I got was embarrassment and betrayal when I got to the ice rink and realized you weren’t show up. No explanation, no fucking excuse. Not a single fucking answer as to why my best friend, the person I’ve poured my heart to for years would leave me hanging in front of hundreds of people.”
Sunghoon has never been a talkative person, not with too many people around, but he’s always known his way around words, something you found yourself admiring and actually falling for in the past.
But in this very moment, every single word falling past his lips turns into another knife slashing its way into the bleeding muscle in your chest, leaving you confused and overwhelmed.
“I didn’t – No – My letter – I would never do that to you”, you stumble over your words like a toddler, unable to find the right ones to explain your innocence.
“Where is that fucking letter then, Y/N? What the fuck is going on?”
Maybe it’s the fact that Sunghoon has never been as emotionally overwhelmed as this before or maybe it's because the sight of your tear stained cheeks and confused eyes as you shake your head and deny his accusations but the longer he looks at you, the worse his soul bleeds.
After so many years of verbal and emotional abuse from his parents, you were the very first person in his life who had shown that there was more to life than just the validation of people who never wanted him. Of all people in this world, it was your hands he had put his tiny heart into because he knew you’d always keep it safe and protected, only for your absence to scar him forever.
For a single second, Sunghoon’s brain is filled with flashbacks about one of the most humiliating days in his life and as he shakes his head to get rid of all the bad memories, his gaze meets your stepmother’s, bringing back a conversation he had tried so hard to suppress as the mee thought of it was enough to deepen his young torture.
“You”, he suddenly spits, his blood boiling in his veins as he remembers exactly how your stepmother had validated all of his thoughts and concerns.
“Oh, come on”, she scoffs and shrugs her shoulders, not an ounce of guilt or shame found anywhere, leaving the both of you completely shocked, “I just wanted to make sure he doesn’t try to convince you to keep going. We knew you wouldn’t back off so this was for the best. Riki’s potential was too much to be wasted and we couldn’t risk it for that little hobby of yours.”
You desperately try to process the things your stepmother is saying, yet you’ve never struggled to understand your mother tongue as much as in this particular moment.
Yes, she hates you, always has and forever will, but…was she really capable of something so cruel?
“You never…gave him the letter?”
“She didn’t”, Sunghoon presses through gritted teeth, his ears covered in the deepest shade of red as anger and weather come together in his blood, “all she did was tell me that you had decided to quit skating. After watching me get humiliated in front of all those people. For fuck’s sake, she told me you never actually wanted to be my skating partner and did it out of pity before he convinced my father to make me go solo and show you what you’re missing out on.”
“What…the actual fuck”, after what feels like an eternity, your brother’s voice makes its way through the mess in your brain and before you can actually register all the emotions in his tired eyes, you watch Riki, one of the calmest and most understanding people you’ve ever met, lose every bit of composure he had left.
“Riki–”, “Don’t”, he’s quick to cut off his mother, Jungwon and Sunoo having to physically hold him back as the tears start streaming down his cheeks and despite everything you had just found out, it’s the sight of your brother’s pain which breaks you.
“Don’t ever say my name again. Don’t call me or my sister ever again. You’re the most disgusting and vile human being I’ve ever met. She was twelve!”, he screams and rips his arms out of his best friends’ grips, approaching his mother with soft sobs escaping his throat.
“How can someone – a mother do this to a little girl? You took her dream away from her, for what? To send me to a fucking boarding school I never even wanted to attend? And after all of the mental, emotional and verbal abuse you and your fucking loser of a husband have put us through, you still have the fucking audacity to show up at our door and demand money for children who don’t give a flying fuck about us.”
Riki’s words are harsh, his voice is loud and there’s nothing positive about any of the things he says; everything he’s ever wanted to say is finally being heard and all you can do is watch and listen.
Just like his miserable excuse of a mother.
“Riki, I–”, “Shut the fuck up. I don’t care anymore. Fuck you, fuck that husband you’re so proud of and fuck those stupid brats. You all deserve to rot in hell for the things you’ve put us through”, your brother’s chest is rising and falling at such speed, you’re genuinely worried for his physical health and even if it takes you a minute, you’re rather quick to notice the signs of an oncoming panic attack. Just like Sunghoon.
Before you can even think about intervening, you watch your former best friend make his way to your brother with just a few large steps, grabbing the younger one’s biceps and almost forcefully pulling him down to his room.
“Fuck off and don’t ever come back”, Riki suddenly yells as he watches his mother take a few steps back with genuine fear grazing her rather unattractive features, “you’re dead to us. Every single one of you is.”
“This is not done here”, your stepmother’s words of protest definitely surprise you and as your eyes roam her face, you feel your brain shutting down, finally losing yourself in the sweet relief of disassociation the second your body can’t handle any of it anymore.
“It is”, this time it’s Tsuki, her voice so strict and cold, you actually aren’t sure if it’s her, “get the fuck out of here before we call the police.”
You don’t actually hear the rest of the argument between your best friend and stepmother, too exhausted and tired, drained and worn out to think another thought, something your best friends are quick to notice and before you can even understand what’s happening, you find yourself in the comfort of your bedroom.
“Come on, Y/N”, Jungwon whispers, his pretty eyes filled with deep concern and pain as he pulls the blanket over your slightly shaking body, “we’re here. You’re safe.”
Those are the last words to make it through the fog in your head as you finally let go of every single thought and slowly drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.
And maybe it’s the pain of knowing he won’t ever get the past decade with you back or maybe it’s the fact someone else had decided to not only take away the biggest joy in his life but also the first and only person he’s ever felt safe with, but as Sunghoon gently caresses your hair, silently watching your expressions soften the deeper your sleep becomes, he simply can’t stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. his soft sobs and cries the only thing to fill the space of your bedroom.
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← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
(A/N: i don't even know what to say except thank you guys so, so much. i really hope the waiting was worth it and that i could meet yours and my own expectations. ot's definitely not the end but i can't believe we've actually made it to this point. i love and appreciate you all so, so much. 🩷☀️🌷💐)
TAGLIST: @soonigiri @en-happiness @lhsvibez @dammit-jjk @heerinnie @primroselover @jungwon-xo @szkstay @lostwonderwall @hoonieluv @certifiedmoa @doodlelibrary @ikeuizm @kpoprhia @sleeping-demons @imtoanonymousforyou @lalalovejay @ineedsomezzz @xrr-s4sha @viagumi @electrobutterfly @mimikittysblog @blurryriki @heelcvr @wonkifangirl @joonzseoulmate @kwiwin @hoondiors @seuomo @zerasari @love-you-twice @aloverga @marz-mars @velvtcherie @niniissus @abrazosolorcereza @ddazed-lhs @acphengene @skz-streamer @kshoshi @tya0 @yizhoutv @jebetwo @myheelody @seokgyuu @blockbusterhee @luvkpopp @heeslut4life
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phoward89 · 8 months ago
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Based on this ask
WARNING: dub con, non con, dark!Coryo, dom!Coryo, soft!dom!Coryo, overstimulation, vibrator, sex (p in v), slight degradation, spit kink
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Coriolanus Snow was thriving under Dr. Gaul. Between his studies at the University ( double major in Military Strategies and Political Science) and his work as Dr. Gaul's assistant (he was quickly promoted from intern to personal assistant due to his cunning and cold nature, which impressed the mad scientist) he was a very busy young man. You didn't see much of him anymore, even though he's been your best friend since you were both little.
You weren't mad about it though. You understood, he had responsibilities and spending what little time he had with you was impossible. He has a family to spend time with.
And a girlfriend.
Your stepfather, General Prometheus Byzantine, had made sure to drop the fact that Coriolanus Snow was seeing Livia Cardew one night during dinner. He just casually dropped the ball, as if he was talking about the weather.
Your little brother, Darius, who had just started the Academy, gave you a sad look of empathy. He knew how you felt about your best friend.
You thought that your parents didn't know, but they did. Your mother and stepfather knew that you were, somehow beyond all logic, in love with your childhood best friend. And your stepfather, being a wartime hero, was on the war council that was headed by none other than Dr. Gaul.
Yea, the same Dr. Gaul that your best friend, Coryo, was studying and working under. 
You didn't know it, but your stepfather talked to the mad scientist about how he was going to be arranging a match for you soon, but he needed her little lab rat out of the way because he was around too much. Would corrupt you. General Byzantine also told Dr. Gaul that you were too sweet, too innocent for a young man like Snow. That he'd never approve of the match, so she better push him into somebody else's arms and away from you.
Cue Coryo's relationship with Livia.
But unknown to you, that relationship ended before it even reached the month milestone.
The real reason why the platinum blonde that held your heart in his large, calloused hands was absent so much from your life was because of the project he was working on with Dr. Gaul.
A very important project that was commissioned to cure the female ailment known as Hysteria. Something that doctor's stopped diagnosing near the end of the early 20th century. 
But now, well into the 22nd century, Hysteria in women's back and the treatment for it can be quite time consuming and strenuous on a doctor's wrist. 
So, Dr. Gaul and in extension Coriolanus Snow were commissioned to recreate the treatment tool of old that was used to help alleviate women's hysteria thru hysterical paroxysm.
The tool of old was an industrial grade electric vibrator. To be used by doctors to treat stressed and agitated women by bringing them to orgasm via clitoral stimulation.
It truly was a practice done in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One that, apparently, was back.
Or at least the vibrator part of the treatment for hysteria would be back once the device was finished, tested, and approved. Until then, the doctors of Panem have to do manual clitoral massages to treat hysteria.
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“Mr. Snow, the device is ready for live subject testing.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus, turning the vibrating tool off and placing it down on the work table.
Coriolanus wanted to laugh his ass off at Dr. Gaul's professional demeanor when it came to announcing that the vibrator was ready to test on pussies.
When his mentor told him what she'd been commissioned to make, he sprayed his tea out of his nose and literally choked. He couldn't believe that doctors had to bring their female patients to orgasm by roughly rubbing their clits because they were agitated and stressed due to sexual frustration. And the fact that the Capitol husbands were sending their wives to doctors for both the diagnosis and cure of hysteria (sexual frustration) baffled him.
Couldn't the husbands just play with their wives pussies themselves?
Dr. Gaul assumed that Coriolanus’ reaction to her commission project was one of proper breeding. Proper gentlemen are brought up to treat their women like dainty china dolls in bed, and to only use them for heirs. That lust was wrong to feel for a wife, a woman of proper breeding. That a gentleman was expected to join a sporting club (a sex club or brothel) in order to enact his base and lustful needs.
So, Dr. Gaul assumed that those teachings were the reason for Coriolanus' reaction to them having to invent an industrial grade vibrator for medical use.
She never once thought that the platinum blonde was judging the Capitolites backwards view of sexuality.
Coriolanus wasn't shy when it came to sex, but maybe that's because he spent some time in District 12 as a peacekeeper. Sex wasn't dirty and taboo in the districts. Hell, random hookups behind an alley with someone you met mere minutes earlier was a norm. Girls that looked so cute with their big doe eyes and simple cotton dresses would drop to their knees in a snap of a finger to hungrily suck cock. Those same girls would bend over, eager to take a cock. And half the time they didn't care what hole it was shoved in. Ass or pussy, as long as they got a good pounding that made them see stars. And then there were those handful of girls that would let a pair of Peacekeepers spit roast them.
So, safe to say, Coriolanus had a sexual awakening while a peacekeeper. He learnt what he liked, what he didn't like, and all of his kinks over the course of a summer. 
And his sexual appetite didn't change when he returned to the Capitol. But, unlike the other gentlemen in the Capitol, he didn't join a sporting club. He wasn't going to pay for a sex club membership when he could go out to Pluribus’ club, pick up a pretty girl, and fuck for free.
He just wasn't counting on the capitolite ladies to be prudes.
And the biggest prude of all was his ex.
Livia Cardew.
She didn't want to do anything-
ANYTHING-
-until her wedding night. All because of what she was taught, what all proper Capitol girls were taught. 
And just the thought of sucking cock disgusted her. She even slapped him across the face when he suggested it.
So, before they reached their month anniversary, Coriolanus broke up with Livia.
He also threw himself head first into his studies and work as a way to keep his mind off of sex. Settling for fisting his cock and  his fantasies fluttering behind his closed eyelids when his urges got too much to handle.
And now, here he is, helping Dr. Gaul invent a vibrator to get all the prudes of the Capitol off because their sexual frustrations are making them unbearable bitches to live with.
“When do you plan on conducting the tests?” Coriolanus asked Dr. Gaul, watching her as she boxed up the vibrating invention.
“I need to recruit some young ladies, of all different ages, from the districts for medical testing.” Dr. Gaul began while locking the invention up in a cabinet. “Of course, their families will be compensated with a small payment, since they'll be tied up here for some time.” The wild, frizzy haired woman sickly smiled while crossing the lab. Coriolanus followed behind her as she explained, “All of that will take time, so I conclude that testing will take place within the next 4-6 weeks at the earliest.”
Dr. Gaul exited the lab with Coriolanus right behind her. “I’d like to test it on a friend of mine, right away. That is, if I have permission to do so, Dr. Gaul.”
“And does this female friend of yours just happen to be General Byzantine's stepdaughter, Y/N?” The scientist asked knowingly, walking down the white hallway leading out of the heart of the lab.
“Yes, that would be her. She's been my best friend since we were children; she'd help me test out the vibrating tool without a second thought.”
“You should tread lightly, Mr. Snow. General Byzantine is in the midst of arranging a matrimonial match for Miss Y/N. Her helping test out our little invention is not going to sit well with him.” Dr. Gaul warned her prodigy, turning down a corner and walking down another stark white hallway.
Coriolanus felt like all the air from his lungs had dried up; leaving him breathless and suffocating. You were going to be handed off to some undeserving asshole. That wasn't right. It wasn't fair either.
You were supposed to be his.
It was common knowledge between your mother and his Grandma’am that when he was ready to settle down, he'd seek you out.
But your stepfather was almost done finalizing an arranged marriage for you with somebody. With somebody that wasn't him.
That was complete and utter bullshit.
Now more than ever, Coriolanus wanted to test that vibrator on your pussy. He wanted to make you cum multiple times; turn you into an overstimulated, crying, babbling mess begging for more. Begging for him to fill you up, fuck you with his cock and make you his.
And by God, he was going to make you his.
And he's going to use that invention, the industrial grade vibrating medical tool, to do it.
“Dr. Gaul, what the general doesn't know, won't hurt him. Besides, I’ll be testing a treatment for hysteria on my best friend. A treatment that, once married, her husband might send her to see a doctor for.”
Your husband was never ever sending you to get your pussy played with because Coriolanus was going to take care of your pussy himself. He wasn't going to let anyone touch you.
Only he's allowed to do that.
Just like he's the only one that's allowed to marry you.
“Very well, Mr. Snow, you have my permission to test our invention on your female best friend.” Dr. Gaul nodded as they reached an elevator. Hitting the button to open the steel box, she asked, “When do you want to conduct the testing?"
“As soon as possible.” Coriolanus honestly told his mentor. “I’d like to bring her here tonight, if she's free. If not, then the soonest day she has open in her schedule.” He said as the metal doors in front of them dinged open.
“And I imagine you want to be the only one conducting the experiment on your live test subject?” Dr. Gaul knowingly asked as they entered the elevator. The mad scientist might be diabolical, but she was very intelligent and knew that Coriolanus Snow was going to use that vibrator they invented to ruin you. And to do that, he'd want to be alone with you, to break you.
The scientist thought it was amusing. How her pupil wanted to ruin you with a vibrator because he couldn't have you. 
What she didn't know was that Coriolanus wanted to ruin you, but not because he couldn't have you. But to make you his. To make you pliable to him; want only him and abandoned all of your family’s plans for you just in order to receive endless pleasure from him.
“Yes.” Coriolanus firmly said as the doors to the elevator dinged shut.
“Very well, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul nodded as the elevator began to ascend. “You may have your privacy conducting your experiment on your female best friend.”
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You were home with your little brother while your parents were out at one of the finest restaurants in the city. Unknown to you, they were meeting with your potential future husband to discuss your dowry along with his expectations as your future husband.
Your brother was doing his homework and you were sitting on the living room couch, watching tv whenever the doorbell rang. You ignored it, assuming that either the Avox or the housekeeper, Marisol, would answer it.
You guessed correctly when you heard the heavy footfalls of shoes echoing against the marble floors. You didn't pay it any mind, assuming that one of your brother's friends had come over to study or something.
“Miss Y/N, your friend Mister Coriolanus is here to see you.” Marisol announced, standing in the archway of the room.
You tore your attention off of the TV and looked towards the living room entrance only to see your best friend strolling by your housekeeper.
“Thank you, Marisol.” You simply dismissed the middle-aged woman, causing her to nod and walk off.
You were shocked to see Coryo. It's been so long since you've seen him. “Coryo, what're you doing here?” You asked in awe, standing up and closing the distance between the two of you.
Before you could even approach him for a hug (that you so desperately craved from the platinum blonde man), Coriolanus told you. “I've came to ask you for some help testing an invention I've been working on with Dr. Gaul.”
“Oh…” You sadly sighed, letting your disappointment linger heavily in the air. And here you thought he came over to see you because he missed you. No, that wasn't the case. He didn't miss you at all; just needed you to help him on some project for work.
“Darling, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to help your best friend.”
“Are we still best friends, Coryo? I never see you anymore.”
“Of course we're still best friends, little dove.” The platinum blonde assured you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His hand trailed up and down your spine in a tantalizing touch that sent shivers throughout your nervous system. “I'll never abandon you, babygirl. I’ve just been preoccupied helping Dr. Gaul with a very important invention and studying for my University classes.” You could feel the thump, thump, thump, of his heartbeat as your head rested against his chest while your arms circled his wait. Hugging him close.
You missed hugging your best friend; you missed his scent and how he made you feel safe.
“I was hoping to see you at the University during lunch, but I haven't been able to. I guess you must be busy or maybe don't take your lunch break in the University’s dining hall.”
“I don't go to University, Coryo.” You told him, causing him to blink and stare at you in disbelief.
Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. You weren't enrolled at the University. How could that be? You always wanted to study either science or medicine. It was your dream; you always talked so passionately about it before he was sent off to 12 to be a peacekeeper.
“”Why not? I thought you wanted to study science or medicine?”
“My stepfather and mother says it's a waste of time since I'm just going to be a socialite and one day a housewife.” Was the honest answer you gave Coryo.
The platinum blonde man wasn't too pleased by your answer. Not by a long shot. Who were your parents to control you; arrange for you to marry some rich asshole that would suppress you.
If you wanted to study at the University then so be it. You should be able to. 
And then a marvelous idea popped into his head. It was a great way to get you to agree to help him test out the vibrator too.
“If you help me by being my test subject tonight, I’ll get you a late midterm enrollment into the University in the science field. I'll even arrange for you to be my intern, considering that I'm Dr. Gaul's assistant.”
“Coryo, you'd do that for me?” You gasped, hand covering your mouth due to your shock.
“Yes, my sweet girl, I'll do that for you." Coriolanus confirmed with a nod. He flashed you that charming, manipulative smile of his, only to say, "I'll do that and more for you, if you just help me out with testing a new invention for me.”
You chewed your bottom lip, thinking over your options. Truthfully, the only option you had was to say yes. Saying yes would both get you into the University and repair the cracks in your friendship with Coryo.
“Okay, I'll help you.” You agreed, smiling at your best friend.
“Excellent.” Coryo smiled, so wide that too many pearly white teeth were showing. The smile seemed feral, perhaps even deranged in a way. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he suggested, “Let's go, shall we?”
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The lab he escorted you to was in the belly of the Citadel. Deep in the basement where nobody would hear you. He had explained, as the elevator made its descent, that the room he was taking you to was soundproof and didn't have any cameras installed in it. That it'd just be you and him; that nobody would ever see the experiment. And he'd just relay his data to his boss, Dr. Gaul.
You didn't know why he told you that. It sounded a bit weird to you, but you just nodded along and told him okay.
You felt a bit nervous as Coriolanus led you down the basement hallway and to a door. He used his electronic key card paired with a panel retina scan to open the door. He led you into the room, only to stop by the doorway to flick on the light switch. 
The too bright florescent lights flickered to life, revealing a lab table of sorts with straps and stirrups attached to it. As Coryo slammed the door shut, you noticed that on the counter next to the lab table was some sort of hospital gown and some type of large, thick wand. 
You looked over your shoulder at your best friend, only to ask him, “Why’re there straps and stirrups on the lab table? And a hospital gown on the counter, Coryo?”
“It's to test out the new invention, darling.” Coryo told you as if he was talking about the weather. “You'll need to get dressed in the gown and have your legs parted so I can properly conduct the experiment.” He explained while heading over to the counter.
“But the straps, Coryo? Are you going to tie my wrists down too?” You asked, a bit concerned, while trailing behind him.
“It's so you don't try to stop the experiment.” He dryly told you. “Now if we're done playing 20 questions, put this on and get on the lab table.” He said, handing you over the medical gown. Your fingers brushed as he added in, “Oh and take off your panties. Your pussy needs to be bare for this little experiment.”
“What?” You asked, sucking in a deep breath between your teeth. You had to let him see and use your bare pussy for the experiment? Like what? Why? “Coryo, I didn't agree to this…”
“Yes you did, Y/N.” Your best friend reminded you as his icy blue eyes cut right into your soul. Sighing, he rubbed your shoulders. “I promise, you'll like what I'm going to be doing. Just do as you're told, okay?”
“Okay.” You reluctantly gave in. “Can you turn around so I can change?” You asked, feeling a bit awkward about your best friend seeing you naked, as you slipped out of your kitten heels.
“I don't see why it makes a difference, darling. I'm going to see your pussy; might as well see your tits too.” He chuckled, leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. His icy blue eyes roaming over your form as you began to unzip your dress.
“Coryo, you have a girlfriend. Think about how she'd feel if she heard you right now.” You told him, pulling off your dress and folding it up.
“I don't have a girlfriend, Y/N. So whoever told you that's mistaken.” Coryo told you as you placed your dress on the counter.
Your brows rose up in surprise as you unhooked your bra, “Really? But I thought you were seeing Livia Cardew.”
Livia Cardew.
Of course, you knew about him and her. What you didn't know was that it didn't even last a month. And he made sure to tell you that. He also assured you that he was single; had been single for months as you finished undressing. 
You were relieved that he wasn't avoiding you because he was spending all of his time with Livia. As you put on the examination gown, you asked Coryo, “If you're not busy with Livia, then why have you been ignoring me?”
Your words made bile rise up into the platinum blonde's throat. He felt sick that you thought he was ignoring you. He wasn't ignoring you. Wasn't he? He's just been busy constructing a life for you two. 
A soft look crossed his features as he sighed, “I didn't mean to ignore you, little dove. I've just been busy with my studying and working as Dr. Gaul's assistant.” 
“Yea…” You trailed off in a long, airy sigh. You honestly wanted to believe your best friend, but didn't know if you should.
“Let me tie this for you.” Coriolanus offered, gesturing to the hospital gown. You just nodded and turned around, causing him to tie up the little ribbons on the back of the medical gown.
Like with all medical gowns, your ass was showing. The platinum blonde smirked seeing your round ass, only to grab it with his large, calloused hands.
“Coryo?” You asked in a startled tone, looking over your shoulder at your best friend as he massages and rubs your ass.
Coryo just smirked before smacking you on the ass and saying, “Go get on the table.”
Turning around to face him, you said, “I’ll get on the table, but I want to know why you grabbed my ass.”
“Maybe I grabbed it because I'm an ass man; happen to like yours.” Your bestfriend told you with mirth twinkling in his baby blues, only to walk over to the counter to grab what he needed.
“I thought men liked boobs?” You asked while making your way over to the examination table.
“Oh, I like tits too.” Coriolanus stated, in a tone that was too cheerful for the atmosphere of the sterile lab, while pulling a pair of latex gloves out of a box that was on the counter. The loud sound of latex snapping as he pulled on the gloves echoed throughout the room. “Tits and ass. Good ole T&A does it for me.” Coryo joked, trying to cut the tension in the room, as you nervously sat down on the table.
As you adjusted yourself on the table, placing your legs in the stirrups, you heard your best friend ask you, “Do you want me to use the lube or to get you wet the old fashioned way?”, from his place across the room at the counter.
“What?” You asked, your eyes nearly popping out of your head. He couldn't mean?...
“Jesus, Y/N, please tell me you've played with your pussy before. Cause if not…this is going to be one hell of an experience for you.”
“Coriolanus! This isn't something ladies talk about to their gentleman friends.” You scolded him.
Coryo decided to forgo the bottle of lube, opting to just grab the large vibrating wand. Making his way over to you, he said, “That mindset’s why I had to help Dr. Gaul invent a damn vibrator. Because sex's so taboo to talk about in the Capitol.” Coming to a stop at the lab table, he placed the vibrator down on the sheet, right below your spread legs. 
“I’ve spent some time in the districts, as you know while serving as a Peacekeeper, so I don't share the same close minded views when it comes to such things.” Coriolanus explained while walking up the length of the table. Stopping where your wrists were, he explained, “I'm not trying to embarrass you, Y/N. I want you to enjoy this thing I've got to test out. And in order for you to do that, I need to know if you've touched yourself before. I need to know if you know what to expect, what to feel.”
“Fine…I’ll answer you.” You gave in while your best friend strapped down your left wrist.
The platinum blonde arched a brow, his hand resting resting on your right wrist, as he waited on baited breath for your answer.
An answer of, “Yes, I've played with myself before. There, you happy now?” 
“See, it wasn't so hard to tell me that. Now was it?” Your best friend remarked while strapping in your right wrist. He stroked your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I'll make sure you're nice and wet before we begin. Just relax and enjoy the experiment.”
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Coriolanus, true to his word, made sure that you were wet. He used the rough pad of his thumb to circle and tease your clit. He didn't apply to much pressure, just enough to get you moist. 
Coriolanus wanted you to enjoy this, but he wanted to make your pussy weep and flood juices from the vibrations of the wand. He could always drive you crazy with his hand another time.
And there’s going to be endless moments between you two after tonight.
“I'm going to start the experiment now. Okay, darling?” Coryo told you, picking up the vibrator and turning it onto the lowest setting.
“Okay.” You nodded. 
“Just relax for me.” He instructed before pressing the buzzing wand to your clit.
The light vibration against your clit felt good. So good in fact, that you let out a tiny whimper.
“See, I knew you'd like this.” Your best friend said, only to turn the vibrator up another notch.
“Mmmm…Coryo…” Your breath hitched up in a tiny whine. The slight chance in speed against your clit sent wetness to pool from your pussy.
“You're doing good, my little dove.” Coriolanus praised while teasing your pussy with the vibrator.
Without warning, he turned it up to the third level. He pressed it hard against your clit, needing to see you cum. He craved the sight of your pussy gushing for him. And he'd keep amping up the speed of the vibrator to do it.
And the large industrial vibrator had 10 speed settings. 
So…
You were in for a long night.
“Oh my God! Coryo!” You moaned, the vibrations of the third setting on your clit driving you closer to cumming. 
“Feels good “ Coryo stated with a smug grin on his face.
“Yes.” You nodded. Your legs, spread wide in the stirrups, began to tense up as you mewled, “Feels so good, Coryo. So, so good.” Your pussy began to spasm as you cried out, “I-I m gonna cum, Coryo.”
“Be a good girl and cum for me.” Your best friend told you, holding the vibrator firmly against your twitching clit. “Cum right now. Do it, cum like the little slut you are.”
You didn't know if it was the vibrations against your clit or the dirty, demanding words Coriolanus told you, but all of a suddenly you were cumming with a moan. 
Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes shined in excitement as he watched your juices flow out of your pussy as you came. Oh, he thought you looked so beautiful. He could stare at your soaked, leaky cunt for hours. 
You thought that your best friend would turn the vibrator off, unstrap you from the table, and end the experiment with the vibrating wand, but he didn't. In fact, Coriolanus turned it up another notch. 
“Coryo, I already came. You gotta stop.” You told him, trying not to let out a high pitched wine, as your clit began to throb. 
“Sorry, baby, but we're not stopping until all 10 speeds are tested.” The platinum told you, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Adjusting the pressure he was using to hold the vibrator against your clit, he simply said, “We're only on the 4th speed.”
“Oh no…”  You trailed off in a broken moan.
“Oh yes!” He mocked, watching your pussy as it began to pool once more. “Perhaps I should turn it up?” Coryo asked while turning up the speed.
“Coryo!” You screamed as your second orgasm hit you, causing your pussy to spasm and squirt juices onto the lab table you’re on.
“Oh, so you're a squirter?” Coryo asked, a wide smile on his face, as his eyes locked onto yours from his place between your pussy.
If you weren't so blissed out right now you'd be embarrassed. 
“I'm going to turn the speed up again, see if we can get you squirting some more.”
“Oh, God, Coryo. Please, please, stop. No more, I'm too sensitive.” You begged, feeling like you couldn't handle any more.
Coriolanus did something you weren't expecting. He stretched out his arm and took your hand in his, holding it. “I know, you're sensitive, baby girl, but you can do this. I know you can go all the 10 speeds for me.”
“Coryo.” You whimpered, lower back arching in an attempt to get away from the vibrations assaulting your puffy, swollen clit.
“Y/N, baby, calm down. You can do this; I wouldn't put you thru this if you couldn't.” Coriolanus told you while cranking the speed up once more.
Coriolanus loves seeing you overstimulated and thrashing about on the table for him as he talking you thru everything. But, his pants were starting to tighten. He needed to fuck you and fast, so that's why he decided to switch the vibrator to level 6 so quickly instead of teasing you.
“Coryo, please, please.” You begged, but for what you didn't even know.
“What do you need, Y/N? You need to cum again?”
“Yea.” You desperately nodded as tears began to brim your eyes. “I'm so sensitive but I need to cum so bad.”
“You're such a little slut for me.” Your best friend chuckled, only to press the vibrator harder against your clit and turn it up to level 7. He adjusted the position slightly, causing you to cum with a loud scream. Once again your pussy squirted your juices everywhere. This time your thighs were wet, the table underneath you was wet, and even Coryo's shirt was soaked.
Coriolanus is positive that if he didn't have you strapped down then you would've flown right up off the lab table.
“I know you're sensitive, but I know you have one more in you. Can you give me one more, baby girl? Hmm?” Coriolanus cooed, stroking your hand with his long fingers as he turned the vibrator up to the next level.
“I dunno, Coryo.” You sighed, feeling listless, as you felt even faster vibrations against your too sensitive and swollen pearl. Your pussy’s quivering and your asshole’s clenching from the overstimulation you're feeling. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried, “I-I’m aching so bad, Coryo. I need something more, but I'm so sensitive.”
Coryo knew just what you needed. Your body was craving his cock. And, honestly, his cock was painfully rock hard from watching you that he's going to be stuffing you full once he's made you come again from the vibrator.
“You need my cock, Y/N.” Coriolanus told you, matter of factly. “Don't worry, once we're done, I'll flip you over and fuck you.” 
“I'm a virgin, Coryo. I'm supposed to be saving myself for my future husband.” You informed him. You couldn't just sleep with him, you had to stay pure. What would your future husband think if you were already used up on your wedding night. If there wasn't any blood on your thighs to signal that he was the only one to claim your purity as his prize.
“You've done that, darling. You've stayed pure for me, but I can't wait any longer to have you.”
Your toes began to curl and your fingers were clenching into fists as you felt a hot, unbearable tingling began to build up inside of you, despite how overstimulated and sore your clit was. “You want to marry me?” You asked, more like moaned, as Coriolanus turned the vibrator up to the 9th level.
Your nails dug into his left hand as your pain began to turn into pleasure once more. Coriolanus thought you were so beautiful like this. Spread out before him, helpless and to his mercy. All fucked out, begging for things you didn't even know you wanted or needed- until now. 
Oh, and the unorthodox marriage proposal was the icing on the cake for the platinum blonde man. Made this night all the more special. “Of course I want to marry you, Y/N. I'd be a fool not too.”
Tears blurred your vision, sticking to your lashes, as you wailed, “Coryo, please, this is too much.” 
“You're doing such a good job for me, darling.” Coriolanus praised you, causing warmth to pool in your lower belly. “Just one more speed and it'll all be over, baby girl. Just one more for me, yea?” Coriolanus assured you as his lust blown eyes raked over your writhing form that was strapped down.
“Okay. Just one more.” You agreed, causing him to turn the vibrator onto the last setting.
The 10th speed. 
The vibrations sent a harsh jolt straight to your core. You became an overstimulated, babbling mess. Your head thrashed, your pussy spasmed, your asshole clenched, your legs shook, and your eyes were literally blinded with tears. The feeling was oh so much. It was both euphoria and hell at the same time. The pain ebbed into pleasure, a white hot pleasure that seemed impossible to reach.
And before you knew it, you were cumming hard with Coryo's name on your lips like a prayer.
Coryo quickly turned off the vibrator and tossed it to the side. The large wand crashed into something, but he didn't care. He just needed to get you unstrapped so he could fuck your 5th orgasm into you.
Fuck, he was so hard and needed your cunt so bad. 
Quickly, Coriolanus pulled your legs out of the stirrups and lowered tje metal things down to the sides of the table. Then he rushed up to the top of the table. To free your arms.
You were panting and fluttering your eyelashes, attempting to see thru all of your tears, as your best friend quickly unbuckled your wrist straps. “You did such a good job for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Kissing you on the forehead, as your newly freed arms limply lay by your side, he asked, “Can you sit up for me or are you too fucked out?”
“I dunno, Coryo.” You honestly told him. Your body was numb with pleasure, so you had no idea if you could sit or not.
“Shit, did I break you?” He asked, pride laced in his baritone, as he helped you to sit up.
“I’m fine, just feel a bit numb’s all.” You told him, pressing your face against his chest as he held you. 
“Yea, you're too fucked out.” Coriolanus proudly chuckled.
Lifting your head up to look at him, you innocently asked, “Why's your shirt all wet for, Coryo?”
“That's all you, little dove.” He told you while petting your hair. “You came so hard; soaked everything near that pretty little pussy of yours.”
“Oh…” You buried your face in his chest. You were embarrassed; afraid of his reaction to you cumming so messily. “That's never happened before when I- you know- while alone in bed.” You admitted, hoping that he wouldn't think you were weird or something for making such a mess.
Coriolanus found your innocence to be cute. You were embarrassed about the spectacular show you put on for him.
And only him.
Because you've never made yourself squirt before.
Pride swelled in his chest at the mere fact that he had you squirting over and over again.
Him.
“Y/N, my dove, what you did was natural. It was very special too.”
“It was?” You asked, lifting your head to look up at him.
“Yea.” Coryo nodded. “Not everyone can squirt.” He explained with a smile. Pressing his forehead against yours and bringing your hand to cup the large bulge in his too tight pants, he said, “I need to fuck you so bad. Make you mine, Y/N.”
You palmed his bulge, causing him to let out a strangled moan. “Did you mean it when you said that I don't have to wait anymore? That you’ll marry me without my virginity?”
“Y/N, my darling rose, of course I'm going to marry you.” Coriolanus told you with a firm certainly in his voice as he cupped your face in his large, calloused hands. “I’m the one taking your virginity and I'm the one that's marrying you, so the order of the two doesn't really matter.” He told you in a tone that was too sweet, perhaps even on the verge of manipulative. 
Coriolanus kissed you, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, bruising force. You were taken back by the kiss, but quickly responded to it by melding your lips with his. It felt like he was sucking all of the air out of your lungs as he kissed you.
Breaking the kiss, his lips ghosted yours as he swore, “I'll bring you home with me tonight after we fuck and tomorrow I'll go talk to the general; tell him about our engagement.”
“I'm going to need a ring.” You reminded him, a small smile on your lips.
“I'll tell Grandma’am I'm ready to give you her heirloom ring in the morning. She'll know what that means.” Coriolanus assured you while picking you up and bending you over the lab table. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he warned, “This is going to be quick.” You heard his pants pool around his ankles as he told you. “You’ll enjoy it, but I'm too hard and you're too stimulated for me to drag this out too long.” 
Coryo quickly pulled down his boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. “Hold onto the edge of the table, Y/N.” He instructed, grasping his dick and giving it a few pumps.
 Looking over your shoulder, as he lined his angry red tip at your soaking wet entrance, you asked, “Is this going to hurt, Coryo? I heard it hurts the first time.”
“With how your hole’s sloppy and dripping, my cock’ll easily slip in. The stretch might burn, but it won't hurt.” He explained before pushing into you.
You bit your lower lip as you felt his large cock stretch out your tight walls. It stung a bit, like he said it would, but it wasn't painful. Not like some of the rumors you heard.
“Such a good girl for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Continuing to push himself into your tight, wet heat, he pressed a kiss to your spine (a part that was exposed by the gap in your medical gown) and cooed, “You're taking me so well.” His breath was hot against your skin as he assured you, “Just a little bit more and I'll be balls deep, Y/N.”
Coryo and you both let out little moans whenever he bottomed out. He felt so good inside of you. You felt so full, and it fanned the flames of your desire for him. And Coriolanus felt that being sheathed in your tight, wet warmth was heaven. The feeling of your cunt gripping his cock was better than anything he could've ever imagined. 
When he pulled his hips back, causing his cock to deliciously drag against your walls, and pushed them forward, driving his cock deep inside of you; hitting your special spot deep within you, you let out a delighted scream. 
“That's it, let me hear you scream for me, my good little slut.” Coryo told you, his hips roughly snapping against yours as he chased down both your highs.
He knew with how sensitive you were that it wouldn't take much to get you cumming. He also knew that if he pounded into you mercilessly then he'd be quickly cumming too.
“Feels so good Coryo.” You whined, clawing at the edge of the table as you felt the head of his cock press up against the spongy spot inside of you. The spot that had your cunt clenching around him.
“Fuck, your cunt's so tight. So perfect, baby.” Coryo began to babble, the feeling of your tight virgin pussy sending him into overdrive. He swears, it feels as if your cunt was made for his cock. It fit him like a glove. A perfect fit. Squeezes him just right, takes him without any problems.
Coriolanus was pussydrunk on your perfect pussy. A pussy that he was claiming as his.
And only he's allowed to pound your pussy. Paint its walls white with his cum.
You let out a loud shriek when you felt his cum heavy balls slap against your oversensitive clit. That only causes him to dig his long fingers harder into your hips and piston even harder into you. 
The lewd sound of your cunt loudly squelching paired with skin slapping skin and your loud moans filled the lab. The lab table beneath you was shaking from how hard Coriolanus was fucking you from behind. But you were so out of it with pleasure that you were worried around the table flipping over.
And even if it did, that wouldn't stop the platinum blonde from fucking into you like his life depended on it. No, he'd just keep pounding your pussy.
“You feel close.” Coriolanus gritted out as his fast paced movements got sloppier. “I'm close too, baby.”
“I’m gonna cum, Coryo. I-I’m gonna cum.” You announced in a mewl, your hips pushing back against his in a desperate attempt to chase your release.
“Me too. Me too.” Coryo told you while bending his body over yours, pressing his chest flush against your back, and grabbing your hands with his while rutting into you as quickly as he could. "Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my cum. Fuck a baby in you; show everyone yours mine."
All you could do was let out a string of babbled broken cries as Coriolanus had you cumming for the 5th time. And as your cunt tightly clenched him, he made a couple more sloppy thrusts before shooting his hot, thick ropes of cum into your womb.
Coriolanus laid on top of you, holding you as his cock was still buried inside of your pussy. He let go of your hand, only to grab your jaw and bring your head up towards his. Using his thumb, he wrenched your jaw open, only to hover his lips above your parted ones and spit into your mouth. The feel of it was disgusting, unnatural even, but without even thinking twice you swallowed his spit.
Coriolanus’ baby blues sparkle with possessiveness as he watches you swallow down his spit as if it was fine wine. Caressing your jaw, he told you, “You're not just my best friend, Y/N. You're my girl.”
His girl. That made your insides melt. You’ve always wanted to be his girl. You've always loved him.
And now you're his girl.
FINALLY
His girl.
“I'll help you get dressed in a minute, then we'll go home.” He told you before leaning in to give you a kiss.
“Okay.” You whispered against his lush lips. 
Oh, how you couldn't wait for him to take you home with him. Where you belong.
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