#slapped some colors on her and called it a day
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remember me as i am.
summary: When Harumasa asks for an unexpected favor, you accept, against your better judgement. The last thing you expected was to have to pretend to be his spouse at a doctorâs appointment.
notes: 4.5k words, author's notes, fake marriage, fake dating, ambiguous relationship/feelings, fluff with some light introspective sadness
âI need you to do me a favor.â
When Asaba Harumasa whispers those words to you across your shared desks at the Section Six office, hand cupped around his mouth for emphasis, eyes glittering with mischief, you canât help but brace yourself for whatever ensuing trouble heâs going to drag you into.
âWhatâs the favor?â you respond evenly. âIf itâs to convince Yanagi to accept your request for time off, Iâm not going to do that.â
âItâs not that!â Harumasa insists. âBut itâs about something thatâs important for the well-being of Section Six.â
You glance around the room; Soukaku is doodling with crayons on some confidential reports, Miyabi has left for a meeting with the rest of the section chiefs (and you can guarantee that she isnât paying any attention), and Yanagi is steadfastly working through a towering stack of papers on her desk, so high that you can barely make out the top of her head. No one is paying attention to the two of you.
âWell, what is it then?â you say, and Harumasa casts a furtive glance at Yanagi before leaning closer to you, bracing his elbow on your desk. Heâs enjoying himself a little too much, you canât help but feel, what with how his smile curls like a satisfied cat.
âWe need to meet up on our day off, preferably in the morning and somewhere near Lumina Square,��� he says conspiratorially. âItâs too risky to pull off here. But itâs important, partner, so make sure youâre not late.â
âIf itâs something thatâs important for Section Six,â you whisper, tilting your own head closer to the shell of his ear, âMaybe itâs something that we should bring up to the others. What is it? Some illicit venture into a Hollow? Should I call Phaenton, too?â
âThereâs no need for all of that,â Harumasa says hastily. âYou only need to bring yourself. Maybe a disguise,â he adds, âto avoid public notice. This is a confidential mission. Iâm relying on you.â
You let out a small sigh. Visions of curling up on your couch tomorrow, browsing through books with a mug of warm, sweet tea vanish in front of your eyes. âFine. Iâll be there. But you owe me for dragging me out on our only day off.â
âIâll make it worth your time, I promise.â Harumasa has the audacity to wink at you, like youâve agreed to some ridiculous, under-the-table deal.Â
Maybe you have. It certainly feels like it when you drag yourself out of bed the next morning, donning sunglasses, a long, caramel-colored coat buttoned up to your neck, and pulling a hat low over your head to complete the look. Youâre out the door and on the train to Lumina Square before ten minutes have passed.
Youâre set to meet Harumasa at some nondescript corner of the square, an alley boxed in by towering buildings and mostly hidden from view. What does he have in store for you? Despite the playful attitude he had yesterday when asking you for help, there was also something serious underpinning his words, even as he tried to pass it off as a flight of fancy. Harumasa would never ask you for help unless it was something important.Â
Youâre certain that youâll have to wait for Harumasa to show up a few minutes late, making some slap-fash excuse. To your surprise, heâs already waiting for you. You almost canât recognize him at first. Heâs forgone his usual headband; instead, heâs wearing a hoodie, a cap, and a facemask, slouching against the wall, staring aimlessly at the sky.Â
âHarumasa?â you say.
At your voice, Harumasa immediately straightens, lifting himself off the wall. You can hear the smile in his voice, even if you canât see it. âThere you are!â
âYouâre early,â you say. âI didnât think youâd be here so soon.â
Harumasa slings a casual arm around your shoulder. âWell, I didnât want to miss our date. But donât let Yanagi know that Iâm capable of showing up on time, okay?âÂ
âItâs not a date,â you say, lowering your sunglasses to give him an unimpressed stare, âItâs a mission. Or so you claim.â
âIt is,â he says. âCome with me. Iâll show you our place of operations.â
Harumasa still has his arm around your shoulders, but you donât shake him off as he leads you confidently through alleys and down back roads, avoiding the bustle of crowds in the main section of the city. The breeze is cool, the sunlight warm on your face againsr the winterâs chill.
Eventually, the two of you stop in front of a hospital, a towering construction of shining metal and glass reflecting squares of blue sky. People bustle in and out of the sliding front doors, letting out gusts of sharp, chemically scented air.
Harumasa is silent as he stares up at the building, his hat shading his eyes. You canât make out his expression, but you lean your head on his shoulder, a brief, reassuring touch.
He seems to come back to himself, then, and Harumasaâs eyes crinkle at the corners as he resumes talking in a clear, casual voice, âSo, this is where our mission is taking place. Hereâs the gist of it: I need you to pretend to be my spouse.â
âWhat?â
âCome on,â he wheedles. âIâve been avoiding coming here for a while, but theyâre not taking my excuses anymore. And they wanted me to bring a family member over to verify some things.â
âYou could have just said so from the beginning,â you say. âI was beginning to think you wanted us to infiltrate somewhere.â
âIf you think about it, we technically are,â Harumasa muses. âBesides, isnât it more fun if I tell you weâre on a mission, instead of just giving everything away? Also, this is necessary to Section Six; what are they going to do without their star Executive Officer?â
The arm around your shoulder is shaking imperceptibly; sometime during his words, his grip has tightened, just slightly, as if heâs clinging to you to keep from sliding down a cliff. The unspoken truths hover in the air: that youâre the only one in Section Six who knows about his Ether Regression Aptitude Syndrome, and that he canât ask anyone else to help him for this.
âWhy your spouse, though?â you say instead. âWhy not just say Iâm a distant relation? You could also just not specify what our relationship is.âÂ
âBecause itâs more fun for me,â Harumasa replies. Typical.
Within the next few minutes, the two are checking in at the front desk after a brief wait, Harumasa wading through tedious paperwork and bureaucracy and health insurance forms with clipboards and pens that click more than necessary.Â
âMake sure to tell the doctor Iâm here with my spouse,â Harumasa emphasizes, tapping the clipboard with his pen. He slides his arm around you, drawing you closer to him, and you try to resist the urge to pull away and keep your face schooled in a neutral, pleasant expression.
âAll right, Mr. Asaba,â the receptionist chirps. âHeâll be out to see you in a bit!â
The waiting room is filled with rows of yellow and white plastic chairs, carpeting worn by the tread of countless anxious patients, and stacks of old magazines on tables and televisions mounted on the walls playing a cheesy blockbuster with the voices muted. A bored child plays with the hospitalâs block toys on the floor, his mother talks quietly into her phone in front of him, and an elderly man flips through a magazine, his cane resting on his lap.
You and Harumasa settle into your seats, side by side. In the space between, where your hands dangle, his knuckles brush against the back of your hand before he draws your hand into his. You canât shake the feeling that youâve somehow become his stress ball, something he needs to touch to ground himself.Â
âStill holding up alright?â Harumasa whispers. âYou cleared the first hurdle.â
âMaybe I should be asking you that,â you whisper back. âAre you okay?â
âIâm used to it.â At times like this, you wish you could see Harumasaâs mouth, because his eyes betray nothing.Â
Still, when the receptionist finally calls out, âAsaba Harumasa, the doctorâs here to see you,â you donât let go of Harumasaâs hand. The doctor is stocky and short, with tired, drooping eyes, and he frowns when he sees Harumasa.
The three of you start walking down the hall, the doctor setting a rapid pace as he lectures Harumasa. âYouâve been avoiding my calls for the past week. Do you know how hard it is to get in contact with you? Proper medical care requires consistency!â
âSorry, sorry,â Harumasa says without sounding sorry at all, but he seems more focused on swinging your joined hands together like a child on a swing set.Â
In the doctorâs office, the two of you are finally separated as Harumasa perches on the examination table. Youâre sitting in a guest chair lined up against the wall across from him. The doctor moves through standard physical procedures with a deft, practiced hand. Harumasa follows along easily, thoughtlessly, as if these processes are second nature: the lights shining in his eyes, the blood pressure cuff around his arm, the routine questions.Â
However, whenever the doctor is distracted recording results or marking down Harumasaâs answers, Harumasa will pull down his mask and make faces at you, to which youâll respond with a roll of your eyes or your own exaggerated expressions of annoyance.Â
âHave you been resting well?â the doctor asks sternly, turning back around just as the two of you quickly settle into more typical expressions. âYouâre not pushing yourself at work, I hope?â
âI havenât,â Harumasa says, with wide eyes.Â
âHmpth.â The doctor turns to you. âWell? Is he being truthful? As his spouse, I trust youâll be honest for the sake of his health.â Behind the doctorâs back, Harumasa strikes you with an expression of mock disbelief, raising his eyebrows dramatically. Itâs almost enough to make you laugh, but you control the tremor of your lips.Â
âHe hasnât been pushing himself hard at all,â you say smoothly. âIf anything, I think my husband has been resting a little too well.â
âAll right. And your medications, Mr. Asaba? Have you been taking them properly?â
âRight as instructed, every morning and night,â Harumasa says. âMy lovely spouse would know. Theyâve seen me dutifully take all of them.â
âHe has,â you verify. From what you know, anyways, Harumasa never misses a dosage.Â
The doctor peppers Harumasa with more health-related questions and logs down all his answers. Itâs over before you know it, and Harumasa leaps off the table as soon as the doctor puts away his clipboard.Â
âIâve missed you, cutie,â he says, throwing his arms around you like you havenât seen him in months, snuggling up to you as the doctor watches with a weary expression.Â
âThe two of you get along well,â he says stoically.
âOh, we do,â Harumasa chirps.Â
âMake sure to make a follow-up appointment, Mr. Asaba. Your health appears stable, and your symptoms havenât worsened.â
âIâll make sure he does,â you supply, shooting a quick, withering glance at Harumasa, who only gives you a pleading expression in return. âHe wonât be late to the next appointment.â
âI appreciate that, MxâŚ?â the doctor trails off questioningly.
âMx. Asaba,â Harumasa interjects. âThatâs their name.â
âThatâs right,â you say. âThank you for your time today.â
Harumasa wraps his arm around your waist, giving the doctor a lazy wave, and then the two of you are through the door, down the hall, and out of the hospital. Once youâre a street away, Harumasa finally speaks.Â
âYou were excellent there, Mx. Asaba,â Harumasa says.Â
âOf course I was. Though you donât need to call me that.â
âWhy? I think it has a nice ring to it,â he muses. âMx. Asaba and Mr. Asaba.â
âI was serious about what I said back there, you know,â you say. âYou need to make your follow-up appointment soon. And you should try to show up to it on time.â
âYouâre so strict. What if I need you to come with me again to feel better?â
âThen just tell me when, and where,â you say. âIf you need me there, then Iâll be there, no matter what.âÂ
A brief flicker of surprise lights across his face, before it smooths out into his usual relaxed smile. âYouâre soooo good to me, Mx. Asaba. Since you went out of your way today to help me with such a confidential mission, let me treat you to some food!âÂ
âI suppose thatâs what a good spouse should do,â you say.Â
Harumasaâs arm is still around your waist, but you canât bring yourself to shake it off as he enthusiastically guides you to whatever restaurant he has in mind. His grip is casual, loose enough that you could shrug it off if you really want to. But if you do, then heâd never pull close to you like again.
Harumasa is attentive in that way. If you set a line, then he would never cross it. All his jokes feel like a casual calculation of the distance between the two of you. How far is he allowed to go? How much are you willing to put up with? Whatâs the boundary of your relationship?Â
Itâs like heâs waiting for rejection, offering you the chance to push away from him in a way that would make it easier for both of you. The way he touches you is akin to possession, but from a man whoâs afraid to say he deserves to call you his.
Yet, if you push a little too close, more than heâs comfortable with, then heâll run away like a skittish cat, afraid your affection will turn to boredom or cruelty. Youâve been with him long enough to understand this. So youâll play along with his jokes, his little white little lies and deceptions, if itâs the only way heâll let you stay close to him.
Itâs a date, or a confidential mission, or whatever excuse Harumasa wants to use. What a complicated, beloved partner you have.
âWeâre here,â Harumasa says. Youâre at a ramen shop, with low stalls pulled up the counter, the simmering heat and steam from the kitchen feeling like a miniature summer. Thankfully, itâs empty, but your disguises ensure that neither your nor Harumasaâs fans will bother you for pictures and autographs in either case.Â
âOrder whatever you want,â he says, and you pick up the laminated menu, browsing through the various options. âOh, wait. Pose for a second.â
Harumasa pulls out his phone, opening the camera, and aims it in your direction. You make a quick peace sign, menu held aloft in your other hand, and the shutter snaps. âWhatâs that for?â
âYou looked nice,â he says. âIâll send it to you later.â
âI didnât realize you liked photography.â
âItâs a good way to preserve things that are fleeting, but important to you,â he says. âMoments that wonât last, people that might leave. Things like that.â
âAre you planning on divorcing me already?â you ask, propping your chin on your hand, peering at him over the top of your sunglasses.Â
Harumasa places a hand over his heart. âMe? Never.â
The two of you place an order for ramen, and it doesnât take long for the noodles to arrive. Itâs simple, but delicious: hearty, flavorful broth, bamboo shoots, seaweed, fish cakes, slices of charred, fatty pork, and an egg with a jammy yolk.
Neither of you talk as you sit in silence, slurping noodles and drinking spoonfuls of broth. Itâs been a while since youâve gone out for a meal like this, and even longer since you did so with someone that wasnât some sort of business partner or official whose good graces you need to stay in.Â
You glance up with a mouthful of noodles to find Harumasa watching you, chopsticks in hand, a small smile on his face, as if heâs never seen anything so charming, his own ramen forgotten. Your face burns for reasons you donât want to identify; youâre only thankful he doesnât ask for another picture.
Harumasa lets out a sigh of appreciation when heâs done, placing his chopsticks neatly over his finished bowl. âSoukaku once cleared out almost all the noodles in this place, did you know that? Iâve been meaning to go ever since she told me.â
âDid it match your expectations?â
âI donât normally like heavy food, but this time, I didnât mind it,â he says. âOr maybe itâs because you looked like you enjoyed it a lot. It made me appreciate this bowl more.â
âSmooth-talker,â you say. âIf youâre done, should we head backââ
âWait, thereâs somewhere else we should go,â Harumasa interrupts, holding up a hand. âWe need dessert after a meal, donât you think?â
âReally? A dessert? What are you thinking of getting?â you ask.
âThereâs a popular drink shop around here. They serve milk tea in these cute little Bangboo shaped cups,â Harumasa begins. âI thought it might be fun to check it out.âÂ
âI thought you hated sweet things,â you supply. The two of you stand, and you smooth down your coat as Harumasa adjusts his facemask. Youâre ambling down the street again, but this time, you loop your arm through his, pulling him close. Itâs an effortless gesture, and itâs startling how easy it is to press so close to him.
âWell, you donât,â he returns. âAnd itâs a popular date spot too. Canât I take my lovely spouse out some more?â
You bump him with your hip. Thereâs no need to keep up your pretense anymore. Thereâs no one else here to listen to your lies. Both of you know this, but you canât bring yourself to state the obvious. If you point out the script, then the curtain will fall and the play will end, your fragile happiness disappearing as the actors take a final bow. âSure, if you keep paying.âÂ
The two of you end up in front of an inconspicuous milk tea shop. Thereâs no outdoor or indoor seating, but there is a counter and a blackboard with the menu chalked in, alongside doodles of smiling Bangboo holding milk tea on the side. A tired salesgirl stands in front, her expression at odds with her bubblegum pink uniform. Thereâs a few teenagers milling nearby, hands cupped around their milk tea and conversing in giggles.
Harumasa tilts his head as he looks at the menu, hanging above the two of you. âThey sell iced coffee here,â he muses. âI thought this was a milk tea place.â
âThey probably want to offer a variety of drinks for people who might not like milk tea,â you supply.Â
âWhat are you getting?â
âThe Bangboo special milk tea,â you say immediately. âItâs their speciality, and it comes with a Bangboo shaped cup. If itâs cute, I might take it home and wash it so I can reuse itâ
He eyes you with amusement as the two of you approach the counter, where Harumasa slides his card across the counter. You make a note to treat him out to dinner at some point; as much as you tease, it wouldnât sit right with you if you didnât return the favor. âOne iced espresso and a Bangboo special milk tea for me and my spouse, please.â
âGot it.â The salesgirl doesnât bat an eye as Harumasa leans against you, his eyes crinkling at the corners like a pleased cat.
It doesnât take long for your drinks to arrive. Your milk tea is in the shape of a Bangbooâs head, and topped with a pile of jellies over delicately set tiers of differing flavors. You take a sip, and youâre flooded with a creamy, milky sweetness.
Harumasa, who hasnât even taken a sip of his espresso yet, looks amused as he watches you. âLet me try some of yours.â
âYou wonât like it,â you protest, but Harumasa is already pulling down his face mask and leaning towards you. You raise your drink to let him take a quick sip.
He licks his top lip in thoughtful contemplation. âWay too sweet.â
âI told you. Now give me some of yours,â you say. âItâs only fair.âÂ
He obliges without protest, tilting his straw towards you. You take a quick sip, but itâs cold and bitter. You wrinkle your nose; youâre no stranger to coffee, especially when shifts run late into the night, but you still like to add creamer and sugar to take the edge off.Â
âCoffee is an acquired taste for true adults,â Harumasa says when he sees your expression. âMaybe Iâm just a bit more mature than you.â
âSweetness is also an acquired taste,â you quip. âItâs good to learn to enjoy the sweet things in life.â
âMaybe it is. Oh, wait. Before you finish your drink. Letâs take another picture.â Harumasa pulls out his phone again, and you donât protest as he raises it and angles it down towards the two of you. You raise your cup, and Harumasa lopes his arm around yours, locking the two of you together. Â
With a few press of his thumb, heâs done, and lowers the phone for your inspection. You examine yourself the same way a stranger might; the two of you huddled up together, Harumasaâs cheeks red from the cold, your lips drawn into a smile, looking almost like the married couple youâre pretending to be.Â
âYou look cute as usual,â Harumasa comments. âBut it makes me look bad. Iâve got to stop taking pictures with you.âÂ
âThatâs not my fault,â you protest.Â
âOf course it isnât. You canât help being the cutest person in the world.âÂ
Youâre saved from thinking up a response that wonât betray your own embarrassment by the curious giggles of the teenagers across from you. They keep glancing furtively from you to Harumasa, hands cupped over their mouths. You can hear whispers of âSection Sixâ and âcelebritiesâ which doesnât bode well for your current anonymity.Â
Swiftly, you grab Harumasaâs hand and start pulling him away from the cafe, down the streets of Lumina Square. The winter sun has started to droop in the sky, painting the world in a vivid, melting, yolky light. Laughter drifts around you from people lost in their own worlds.Â
Youâre not sure where youâre going, only certain on heading away from anyone who can recognize you. Harumasa follows along gamely, your willing accomplice.
You fly up a flight of stairs and youâre suddenly on the walkway above the streets, the city stretching out below you, buildings stacked like decadent cakes, people little figurines trotting carelessly by.Â
Youâre far away from everyone else now, cocooned in your own world. Harumasaâs fingers squeezes yours playfully, and suddenly youâre aware of how his hand feels in yours, warm skin and calluses from his bow and reassuringly slender fingers wrapped around your own.Â
You drop his hand, finally, and take a sip of your own drink, which is sweet, so sweet, as Harumasa walks up to the railing and braces his elbow against the metal.Â
âYouâve been taking a lot of pictures of me today,â you say.Â
âI want to treasure every moment we have together,â Harumasa says, without turning. A cool breeze stirs, sending his hair fluttering, his clothes rippling.Â
Heâs unfair when he talks like this, the tenderness in his voice making your heart ache over the inevitable future, a predetermined ending. Like heâll slip through your fingers as easily as water at any moment.
You pull out your phone, swipe to your camera, and raise it to frame Harumasa in the center, backlit by the glow of the sun and the tart light from the windows of buildings around you.Â
âLook over here,â you call, and Harumasa turns. Heâs beautiful, so beautiful it hurts. âStrike a pose.âÂ
âShouldnât I be the one taking a picture?â he asks.Â
âI want to remember you,â you say. âForever.âÂ
Harumasa tilts his head back. âMe?âÂ
âYouâre not the only one who wants to cherish every moment we spend together.âÂ
Harumasa slowly pulls down his face mask, and you can finally see his smile, more brilliant than the sun behind him, flooding through your nerves and filling every part of you with a warm light.Â
You press your phoneâs camera shutter, once, twice, immortalizing Harumasa for as long as you can. You lower your phone, and join him at the railing, looking down below at the peace youâve both fought so hard to protect.Â
The world is filled with such endless cruelty and stunning beauty in equal measure. And yet, itâs the only world you have. You tap your fingers against the railing, a nonsensical song.Â
âFor your next appointment, maybe we should try a different restaurant when youâre done,â you say. âAnd we can walk around and take more pictures. Thereâs a few art installations around.âÂ
âYou sure you want to come back with me? Youâll have to pretend to be Mx. Asaba again, you know.âÂ
âI donât mind,â you murmur. âIt has a nice ring to it.âÂ
âIf you talk like that, youâll make me want to make it officialâŚ. Of course, Iâm kidding,â he adds before the words can linger for too long.Â
âHave you thought about getting married?â you ask.
âI couldnât do that to someone,â he responds lightly. âBesides, itâd be bad for PR. You know how intense our fan clubs can get.â
Of course, you understand. Marriage is an alien thought for a job where you risk your life everyday fighting against Ethereals and venturing into Hollows. You barely have enough time for yourself after long shifts and overtime and late nights, ready to be called into action at the slightest emergency. Could you bear to leave behind someone you love under the circumstances? Could they bear waiting and worrying for you? You would never be able to provide them any form of normalcy.
âLeaving someone behind like that⌠I donât think I could do it. Or ask them to understand why I canât give them an ordinary life,â you say.Â
âRight, right. I wouldnât want to make my partner cry,â he says. âI knew you would get it.â
His eyes gleam, two precious pieces of gold. Of course. Neither of you are capable of an ordinary relationship. Whatever the two of you have right now, whatever form you let it take, canât be named. Something will break if you try.Â
Carefully, delicately, you lean your head against his shoulder. He stiffens only momentarily before relaxing, a silent affirmation of your presence. Below, cars rush by, the misty glow of streetlights winking into life as the sky darkens.
âIâll let you know when I have my next appointment,â he says, voice carrying like the wind.
âAll right. Iâll be sure to make the time for you, Mr. Asaba.â
He laughs, a low, soft sound. âThank you, Mx. Asaba. I knew I could rely on you.â
And itâs nice, like this. For just a while longer, you can forget anything thatâs happened before, or anything that might happen in the future. Right now, itâs just you, and him, together.Â
#liya.writes#zenless zone zero#asaba harumasa#asaba harumasa x reader#harumasa x reader#harumasa#zenless zone zero x reader#x reader
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got lazy đđŤ´đŞˇâ¨
#slapped some colors on her and called it a day#LMAOO#mycel doodles#oc stuff#technically#hatsune miku
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WARNINGS: this is quite angsty...no actual smut happens just a tiny scene. Also I messes around with some scenes so I feel like it doesn't follow the storyline in the series... that's about it... (should a do a part 2?) part 2 here, part 3
He was nursing a long drink of whiskey on ice as he stared at the blank wall. The year was 1963, and he was currently sitting on a lousy couch in Dallas. The apocalypse was going to take place once again mere days away. He felt bone tired, no one around him understood the stakes and the pressure he was under. He got out of his jacket a black and white photo. A young woman in her early twenties had a huge smile plastered on her face, her head was slightly cocked to the side and loose hair from the messy bun that rested at the top of her head framed her beautiful face. She seemed radiant, her eyes were crinkled from her smile and she seemed like a goddess to him. A piece of heaven that he left behind.
âWho's that?â Klaus whispered in his ear and Five jumped from the sudden sound and he glared at his brother. Out of all his siblings, Klaus was the only one who would understand him. âShe is beautiful.â
âShe is my wife.â Five said quietly. His voice was soft and colored in an emotion that Klaus couldn't recognize.
âYour what?â
âAre you deaf? I said she is my wife, or at least she was.â
âWhat happened?â
Five had been at the Commission for several years. After a failed experiment he had turned back to his twenty-year-old self. He had heard whispers of the Scarlet Angel all around him, everyone seemed to talk about his rival, especially in his presence. It was supposed to be the deadliest assassin of the Institution besides him. One gray day he was called into the Handlers office. That was when he saw her for the first time. A tall woman was seated on a chair, her beautiful face turned towards him as he entered the room. Five had never been one to find in someone's physical beauty but at the moment their eyes met he could swear that his heart skipped a beat.
Their first assignment together had been such a success, that they were stuck together permanently. Throughout the following years, Five found himself falling for her harder every day, with every word she said, with every laugh she caused from him, the way she always had his back and defended him whether she agreed with his actions or not. Their fights were the best thing that ever happened to him, she always found ways to leave him speechless, with her smart comebacks, the way she was animated when she got angry, her hands flew around her, her face got angry red and her hair bounced with her movements. He had never seen someone look so exquisite when they were yelling at him. She made him feel alive, adrenaline coursed in his veins. She always got the better of him. She was so⌠infuriating. On one of those occasions he finally had enough.
He grabbed her face and smashed their lips together to silence her. She was breathless when he distanced himself from her. Her eyes were wild and her hand flew to his cheeks, slapping him. Before leaving him frozen on his spot. They were supposed to be undercover as a married couple at the gala of their target. They had been discussing tactics and strategies when things escalated.
With a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down and headed back towards the ballroom, searching for his supposed wife. They stayed together all night, dancing and acting like a couple. It seemed natural to him to be this way with her. Having her in his arms, and showing her off. Finally a few minutes shy of dawn, they tiptoed towards a huge room where their target hid diamonds. Diamonds they were going to steal after killing him, so the crime would seem like a robbery gone wrong. Just at the last corner, they were almost caught. Five quickly hoisted her up before he pinned her to a wall and he placed his face on her neck. Her skin flashed and her heartbeat was rapid beneath his mouth.
âPlay along.â He whispered sweetly to her skin but she was shocked by his actions. So he had no choice. He sucked at her pulse point receiving an immediate reaction. Her legs drew back on his hold, her back arched, her eyes closed and her lips released a quiet breathy moan. At that moment he knew he was already addicted to her. He couldn't hold himself back any longer. He bit and sucked on her neck and her hands tangled into his hair as she tugged at the short strands on the back of his head. She was moaning in his arms and her hips rolled against his. He raised his knee and she started riding his leg shamelessly. He wanted to be inside of her or he was going to burst. He wanted to shut her smart mouth so it would no longer fire comebacks at him. He unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants before pushing her underwear to the side and he waited for a confirmation to continue. She could ask him to kneel, to beg and he would gladly do so. Just to steal one moment with her.
A loud bang echoed through the walls and they snapped out of their daze. But the damage had already been done. Their partnership had been blown to proposition forever. And the rest was history.
Several years later, and many happy years together after being married in secret. It happened, their big bang, the thing that embodied the doom of their relationship. Five had always been a pessimist, even in his early childhood. He was a firm believer in Murphy's law, which stated that when something could go wrong in a situation, always expect it to go wrong. They had traveled in Germany during the Second World War. Five posed as one of the ranking officers in Auschwitz as his wife was expected to do the same. Only, she had been compromised and now she was one of the prisoners. The terrible labor that she endured every day was the thing that would plague him for years to come. After completing their mission and several wounds later they managed to get back to the safety of their home.
âWhy didn't you listen to me?â Five snap in frustration and terror. His hands shook as he tried to stitch a big guss on her stomach. She looked paper thin, her bones were visible and her veins along with her arteries stood prominent against her pale skin that lost its color.
âI did. I disagreed with your plan either way. And we had to do something drastic. I took a risk and I lost. It happens.â
âAnd did it have to happen in one of the most terrifying places that ever existed on this Earth?â
âSnap out of it. You would have done the same. And always where we are atrocious things have happened. So you don't get to lecture me. I am my own person. I made a call and it happened to be wrong. But if I hadn't done that we would have eventually failed this mission. And you don't get to lecture me when you have done nothing but be untruthful to me since the moment this started.â
âWh- what are you talking about?â Five whispered, his voice quivered with unshown emotions. He could see the inevitable impact between them before his eyes, he had just hoped he could have a few more moments with her. A few more minutes, a few more hours, days, or years. Anything really.
Her eyes were hard and full of hatred. She pulled herself to her feet. The pain that consumed her must have been blinding. The open wounds leaked with blood that stained her skin. She moved towards her coat where she retrieved a dark green notebook and she slammed it against their kitchen table, before placing her hands on her hips and firing a challenging look towards him.
âYou know I want to get back to my family, sweetheart.â
âDon't sweetheart me. These equations are only for one person. So is there something you want to tell me, dear husband of mine?â
âPlease let me explainâŚâ
âExplain what? That this meant nothing to you? You are an egoistic son of a bitch Five. And I am done with you. And you know why? You made the mistake of placing a date when you started. Our wedding date. You have already shown your true colors. You can leave now. And you can take this, I don't need it any longer. Either way, it was fake and it meant nothing to you.â She said before throwing her wedding ring at him. It thudded against his chest and he caught it mid-air, as he watched her walking away from him and slamming the door of their bedroom in her way. He stood frozen in his place. It was done. The one thing that made him feel alive, the one thing that made him happy left him. He lost it under his own hands. The same night, he left a letter behind him before he traveled back in time, back to his family. To them, he seemed a shy seven years older than when he disappeared. But they didn't know about the two things he carried with him from his last life. Her picture in the breast pocket of his smart jacket and her wedding ring on his collarbones as it hung from a golden chain, both hidden from the world.
âFive. That is just ⌠I don't know what to say.â
âThen don't. It is already hard to think about her.â
âHow long has it been since -â
âSix years, eight months and twenty days. My early attempts to get back to you weren't really successful.â He whispered as he toying with her ring. It was gold and smooth to touch, his name had been engraved on the inside. It had been a blast to convince the person who made them that his name was actually Five. And he smiled at the fond memory.
âWill you ever see her again?â
âI don't know. The selfish part of me wishes that, but another part of me knows that it is better this way. Because she is free and safe from me. Klaus, if you don't mind ⌠no more talk please.â
Klaus looked at the pained expression on his brother's face. He had never heard him utter the world âpleaseâ, at least not to him. So he simply nodded and stayed with him in silence before their peace was disturbed by their reality.
words: 1.781
#five hargreeves#five hargreaves x reader#five hargreaves x you#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#five hargreeves smut#five hargreeves angst
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I Love It - MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x driver!reader
Word Count: 900+
Warning: named your pet dog, bear. Tempted to name the dog after my dog.
Twelve Fics of Christmas - Secret Santa
A/N: zhou FINALLY got a good gift this year!
F1 Masterlist / Masterlist
It was time for the annual paddock Secret Santa the F1 social team did with all the drivers. Honestly, you loved it. For the past few years, you got people you know pretty well so it was always easy to get gifts. You were one of the drivers who opted for meaningful and useful gifts instead of the silly ones, Zhou has gotten one too many Valtteri Bottas calendars.Â
This year you pulled Max. Despite being so close, with you getting him a gift for Christmas every year anyway, you never pulled his name. You went back and forth if you should finally do a silly gift and save his real present for Christmas day. Your heart wouldn't allow you to do that and opted for both gifts to be sentimental.Â
Max on the other hand pulled your name and to say he was freaking out was an understatement. He was also one to get you a present every year. It was always simple with a new purse or perfume, but he knew he couldn't pull that off for this silly video. He wanted to make this one special.Â
As the weeks crept up you thought of the perfect gift, a neon sign with his cats' names on it so he could set it up by his streaming set-up. Sassy's name was red while Jimmy's name was blue, red bull colors of course. It was perfect and you happily handed it to the social media manager to give to him, excited to see his reaction when the video came out.Â
Max was still freaking out. They would be exchanging gifts next week and he was still empty-handed. He was never good at gift-giving, opting for universally agreed upon "good presents." He needed to bring in reinforcement which was in the form of Daniel.
"What am I supposed to get her?!"
"I don't know why you are so stressed about this." That was a lie. Danny knew why he was stressed, he just wanted to see if Max wouldn't admit his crush.Â
"I want to actually give a good gift, not just some expensive thing."
"Because you like her!" Daniel said with the goofiest smile on his face. He knew his best buddy had been crushing on you for years, but this was the first time he was freaking out about something so trivial. It was just an annual video the F1 media team did. He could get you a mug and you would love it.
"Daniel don't start." He couldn't help the sigh that came out. If he liked you or not he still wanted to get a decent gift. Maybe he was stressing too much, but he couldn't help it.Â
"Okay okay. What does she like?"
"Music, sports, movies, animal-" As Max went on Daniel couldn't help but roll his eyes. Maybe that wasn't the right question to ask. He should've known to be more specific or the Dutchman would talk his ears off about you for hours.Â
"I'm going to stop you right there. Let me ask again. What does she love most in this world."
"Her dog," Max said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.Â
"Okay get her something relating to her dog."Â
A huge grin slowly made its way onto Max's face, "I got it! thanks, Daniel!" Before Daniel could respond the facetime call ended.
When it was Max's turn to hand in his present he couldn't help but do it with a smile. Since he was stressing so much he didn't have much time to get it ready, but nothing a little money to rush the order couldn't help. Just like you, he can't wait for the reaction to be posted.Â
"Okay, here you go." the media personnel said handing you the gift as the camera was rolling.Â
"I can't wait." You excitedly said tearing open the wrapping paper.
As you tore open the gift you couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face, as you slapped a hand over your mouth in shock. "oh my god!"
"What is it?"
"It's a painting of my dog, bear! He's sitting in my car!" You happily flipped the painting to show the camera. "Max pulled my name?" You asked which shocked the people behind the camera at how fast you guessed.
"How did you know?"
"I just know." You said with the biggest smile running your hands all over the picture. "Did you give him his gift yet?"
"Yeah, we did him before you."
"I need to go find him." You rushed out before they needed anything else from you.
"Max!" You called out his name. Before he could process who called him you tackled him in a hug almost making him trip.Â
"Woah, what's all of this for." He chuckled wrapping his arm around you to brace the both of you.
Slowly you pulled away from him holding the painting up with glee, "I love my gift, it's the best thing I ever got."
At this, he couldn't help but smile as he could feel heat rush right to his cheeks. You loved the gift. He swears your smile was bigger over the gift than your first win. Or maybe he was tricking himself into thinking that. Either way, you loved your gift and that's the reaction he was hoping for.Â
"Looks like you're not the only good gift giver on the grid." He nudged your shoulder earning a giggle.
"How did you even think to get this?"Â
Now it was your turn for your cheeks to heat up. "Well some of the best gifts I ever got are based around my cats so I took a page out of your book."Â
"Well I love it, thank you." Again you pulled him into a hug not knowing what else to say besides thank you. If Secret Santa earned him this type of hug, he hoped to pull your name every year. Â
"Anytime Schatje."
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1
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Live To Breed
[Commissioned]
VIVIZ SinB/Hwang Eunbi
Gangrape, Mentioned Death, BBC Tribesmen, Breeding, A Lot Of Cum, Vaginal Fuck, Anal, Pregnant Fuck, Some Other Heavy Stuff.
3,919 Word.
The day started like any other for VIVIZ, but shit was about to hit the fan in the most fucked-up way possible. SinB, the feisty one, Eunha, and sweet Umji were bouncing around in their jeep, deep in the heart of the African jungle, looking for some thrill.
The girls were living their best lives, laughing and joking, when all hell broke loose. A freaking stampede came outta nowhere, like some shit from a horror movie. The driver hit the brakes, but it was a lost cause.Â
The jeep went flying, and SinB went airborne, straight into a goddamn tree. Her clothes ripped like wet tissue paper, and she was left bruised and bleeding, screaming her lungs out.
"FUUUUCK!" SinB howled in agony, her voice raw as a guttural scream. Her sexy outfit was in shreds, exposing her smooth skin, now marked with scratches and cuts that would make a horror flick proud.Â
She tried to get her ass up, but her body was like jelly, trembling and weak. Where the hell were Eunha and Umji? She cried out for them, her voice fading in the vast jungle.
The jungle, usually buzzing with life, went dead quiet, like it was mourning the crazy shit that just went down. SinB's pleas for help bounced off the trees, her voice cracking with each desperate call.Â
The pain was a bitch, clouding her vision, but she fought to stay conscious, refusing to black out. As the sun started its slow descent, painting the sky with fiery colors, a crew of hulking dudes appeared, straight out of a tribal wet dream.Â
These motherfuckers were ripped, their dark skin glistening with sweat, and all they wore were tiny-ass loincloths that left nothing to the imagination. Their bodies were inked up with tribal tats, and their eyes held a wild intensity.
SinB's mouth hung open as she took in the sight, momentarily forgetting her pain. These dudes were built like gods, and their sheer size made her feel like a tiny doll.Â
They muttered to each other in some ancient tongue, their deep voices rumbling like thunder, probably discussing the hot mess of a woman in front of them.
"Help... please, help me," SinB managed to whisper, her voice scratchy and weak. The men's eyes narrowed, their gazes intense enough to burn holes through her.Â
They didn't give a shit about her plea, probably thinking she was some crazy jungle spirit. The biggest dude among them strode over, his muscles flexing with each step. He scooped SinB up like she weighed nothing, causing her to whimper.
This beast of a man carried her through the jungle like she was his prize catch. SinB's eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar sights of their camp. It was like a scene from a National Geographic documentary, with buff dudes going about their business, their bodies glistening with sweat and dirt.
These savages didn't waste time with pleasantries. They ripped what was left of SinB's clothes, leaving her in her skimpy underwear, her curves on full display.Â
She tried to cover up, but these guys didn't give a damn about modesty. They cleaned her wounds, their rough hands exploring her body, and wrapped her up with some dirty-ass cloth.
"Fuck off!" SinB tried to fight, but it was like a kitten swatting at a lion. A sharp slap landed on her face. "Ugh!" She tasted blood, her lip split open. Another jab to her ribs had her gasping, reminding her just how helpless she was.
The men finished patching her up and shoved some weird-ass herbal shit down her throat. SinB choked and spluttered, her eyes watering from the bitter taste.Â
Satisfied, two of them grabbed her, ignoring her weak struggles, and hauled her ass to a nearby barn. Inside, it was like a damn dungeon, filled with terrified women from different corners of the world.
The women were a sorry sight, some crying their eyes out, others moaning in pain, their bellies swollen with pregnancy. SinB's heart hammered in her chest as she realized she'd landed in some tribal sex cult's lair. She tried to scream, but her voice was shot.
Just then, all hell broke loose outside. A group of the tribal dudes, their massive cocks swinging free, dragged a screaming woman outta the camp. Her pleas were met with laughter and crude catcalls.
The men's laughter was like a sick chorus, their eyes wild with lust. SinB's blurry vision focused on their massive dicks, already hard as steel, ready to invade some poor woman's body.
The men wasted no time, and the woman's screams echoed through the camp, a haunting soundtrack to the night's twisted festivities. SinB's eyes fluttered, her mind overwhelmed by the day's events.Â
The last thing she saw before passing out was the terrified faces of the captive women, knowing their fate was about to get a whole lot worse.
The night had turned into a fucked-up, twisted sex fest, and SinB was front-row center for this sick tribal ritual. Her eyes popped open as the barn erupted with screams and moans.
The women, who were once crying their eyes out, were now getting pounded by these tribal beasts, their cries echoing like a damn horror movie.
"Oh fuck, mercy, please! No more!" a woman begged, her voice raw from screaming her lungs out. But the men just kept pounding her from every angle, their dark, sweaty bodies slamming into her like wild animals.
"Harder, you motherfuckers! Break me in half!" another chick screamed, her body bucking as two dudes took turns drilling her, their cocks stretching her holes like she was some damn sex toy.Â
The scene was brutal, but damn, it was hot as hell. Even the preggo ladies weren't off-limits.
"No, not my ass! My baby... oh, fuck, no!" a pregnant woman wailed, her eyes rolling back as a dude hammered her ass, not giving a damn about her swollen belly. The sight was enough to make SinB's stomach churn.
SinB's eyes were like saucers, taking in the savage display of raw, animalistic fucking. Her body ached to run, but she might as well have been glued to the ground. She tried to crawl away, but it was like trying to escape a pack of hungry wolves.
"Please, just let me go, you bastards!" SinB's voice was raspy, barely a whisper.
These dudes weren't having any of it. They grabbed her like she was their personal plaything. One dude chuckled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.
They pinned her down, their rough hands holding her arms and legs, spreading her wide open like a buffet. SinB screamed and kicked, but it only made these animals harder.
"Let me go, you animals! Help!" SinB's pleas were desperate, but they just laughed, their eyes wild with lust.
The dude on top of her, his cock already hard as steel, ripped her panties off like they were nothing. "No, stop! Get your hands off me!" SinB shouted, her voice breaking as he groped her tits, squeezing and twisting her sensitive nipples until she saw stars.
Pissed off by her resistance, the dude stood up and stomped on her stomach, making her gag and cough. Before SinB could catch her breath, another dude was on top of her, his thick cock aiming straight for her mouth.
SinB's eyes widened as his cock invaded her, stretching her jaws to the max. This dude was packing an anaconda, and it hit the back of her throat, making her gag and choke.
He grunted, face-fucking her like a pro. SinB's throat bulged, moving up and down, her eyes watering, snot and spit flying as he pounded her face. Another dude cheered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a mark.
The dude pounding her face went to town, his balls slapping against her chin, making her gag and choke some more. SinB's body shook, her bound hands clawing at the dirt, her throat working overtime to take that massive cock.
He growled, his hips slamming into her aching throat. SinB's eyes rolled back, tears mixing with the spit and snot as she struggled to breathe. Her throat was on fire, but this dude wasn't letting up, his cock throbbing, ready to unload his cum down her throat.
The barn had become a twisted, hardcore sex dungeon, where SinB's screams and the other women's cries were the soundtrack to a night of brutal, non-stop gangrape.
The tribal black men were on a roll, and SinB's mouth was their fuck toy. These motherfuckers took turns shoving their thick, veiny cocks down her throat, face-fucking her like she was their personal cum dumpster.Â
SinB choked and gagged, her eyes watering like a waterfall as she tried to take their massive cocks. One guy gripped her hair like a leash as he pounded her face. SinB's throat was getting fucked raw, her gag reflex going crazy, but these animals just kept going harder.
Another guy shouted, slapping her face with his thick palm. SinB's cheeks stung, but he didn't give a shit as he jammed his cock down her throat, making her eyes bulge like a cartoon.
"Can't... breathe!" SinB managed to gasp between the thrusts, her voice muffled and desperate. But these savages just laughed, their rough hands holding her head like a pet, forcing her to take their cocks.
One after another, they blasted their hot cum down her throat, making her swallow their seed like it was her job. SinB's belly was swelling, her throat on fire, and she felt like she was gonna puke her guts out.
"No more... gonna puke!" she whimpered, her eyes pleading for mercy but a hard slap landed on her cheek, making her see stars.
One man growled, grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth open for his throbbing cock. SinB gagged, her throat convulsing as he face-fucked her with zero fucks given.
These native men were all about getting their rocks off, and they didn't care about her comfort. Some even used her hands and thighs to jerk off, covering her skin with their hot, sticky loads. SinB's body was a mess, covered in sweat, cum, and bruises.
The barn was a horror show, with women's screams and moans filling the air. SinB's eyes darted around, witnessing shit that would give her nightmares for life.
"Help... I'm pregnant! Have mercy!" a woman begged, her belly shook as two men double-battered her pussy and ass. The poor chick was screaming, but they just kept pounding until she went quiet, her body limp and her holes bleeding.
A man grunted, his cock buried deep in the ass of a woman who was clearly out cold. SinB watched in horror as he pumped away, not giving a damn about the blood or the fact that she wasn't even conscious.
âNo, no, noâ Oh god!" another woman cried, her body arched and bruised as three huge black men took turns violating her. Her screams turned to whines, then silence as the pain overwhelmed her.
SinB's throat was on fire, and her stomach felt like it was gonna explode from all the cum she'd been forced to swallow. When a cock finally pulled out of her mouth, she puked, spewing a mix of cum and bile.
"Fuckâ argh, can't swallow anymore!" she begged. But they didn't give a shit. A sharp slap landed on her mouth, making her eyes water.
A man barked, grabbing her hair and shoving his cock back in her mouth. SinB gagged and choked, her throat working achingly to take his thickness as he fucked her face with no mercy. These tribesmen made sure to mark her as their territory.Â
They flooded her mouth, on her body, and even made her lick their balls. SinB's body trembled in disgust, her throat and mouth abused, but they just kept going, their cocks throbbing and unloading their semen wherever they pleased.Â
Time had lost all meaning for SinB as the assault on her mouth continued. These tribal studs had been using her face as their personal cum dump for hours, forcing her to swallow load after load, even as she puked it all up.Â
Her stomach felt like it was gonna burst, her belly swollen and hard, a testament to the endless cumshots she'd been forced to take.
SinB's body was a mess, her once flawless skin now glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead.Â
Her lips were swollen and bruised, gaping open as if they'd forgotten how to close, and her throat was on fire, like she'd swallowed a flaming blade. She couldn't feel her face anymore; it was just a numb, throbbing mess.
Her curvy body had gone limp, her arms splayed out on the dirty ground, but the men held her head up, ensuring her mouth was always available for their pleasure, cocks sliding down her throat, making her gag and choke, her eyes rolling back in her head.
SinB's mind was fuzzy, her body exhausted, but the men showed no signs of stopping. Her throat was so fucked, it felt like a permanent part of their cocks was lodged in there. She couldn't even swallow her own spit without pain.
As another thick release was forced down her throat, SinB's body went into overdrive. She convulsed, her eyes rolling back, and for a moment, she thought she was gonna pass out. The man finally pulled out, letting her fall to the ground like a ragdoll.
SinB gasped for air, her body twitching uncontrollably, her throat and mouth leaking cum and saliva. She lay there, unable to move, her eyes pleading for this nightmare to end. The men, however, seemed to be just getting started.
They stood around her, stroking their hard cocks, their eyes wild with lust as they discussed their next move. SinB prayed for death, for the sweet release of unconsciousness, but the gods weren't listening.
Suddenly, a massive man stepped on her swollen stomach, making her cry out in pain. He twisted his foot, and SinB's body betrayed her, spewing cum and pee, her throat and pussy leaking like broken faucets.
"Oh godâ fucking hurtsâŚ" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The man just laughed, his deep voice echoing in her ears. He then grabbed her ankles, dragging her out of the barn, away from the screams of the other tortured women.
SinB's heart sank as she realized this was far from over. She was being dragged to the center of the camp, where a crowd of over fifty tribal men awaited, their bodies naked and glistening with some ritual oil.
"No⌠just kill me," SinB mumbled, her voice weak and defeated. She wanted this torture to end, but the men had other plans. The idol's worst fears were about to be realized as the tribe prepared for a night of depraved rituals.
SinB was done fighting, her body limp as a rag doll as the men chained her up like a sacrificial lamb in the middle of this tribal orgy. They tossed her onto the wooden platform, her stomach heaving, causing her to spew out the cum she'd swallowed earlier.
The men were quick to secure her, chaining her wrists and neck, ensuring she was their helpless plaything. Her curvy body was on full display, the torchlight highlighting every inch of her skin.
A dude with a lean build grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him as he poured some weird-ass green liquid down her throat. It was some tribal shit to keep her awake and ready for their sick games. SinB gagged on the bitter taste, but at this point, she was beyond caring.
The crowd went wild as the first man stepped into the spotlight, his cock so big it swung between his legs like a damn pendulum. This dude was a fuckin' beast, and he was about to tear SinB a new one.
He crouched down, his hands gripping her soft hips like they were made for him. He lifted her ass, positioning her on her knees, showcasing her plump, round cheeks. The motherfucker poured oil on her ass, his touch making her tremble.
SinB's ass was a sight to behold, and this dude knew it. He massaged the oil into her skin, his thick-ass thumb getting dangerously close to her tight hole. With a deliberate move, he pushed his thumb into her asshole, making her scream like a banshee.
"Fuck! Stop, you bastard!" SinB cursed, her body going rigid as she felt her ass being stretched beyond its limits. The dude's thumb worked her hole, making her scream and beg, her struggles against the chains useless.
The pain was off the charts, her ass on fire as he finger-fucked her, preparing her for the main event. SinB twisted and turned, her body a mess of desperation, but the dude held her hips like a vice.
Before she knew it, his thumb was out, and his massive cock was at her entrance, ready to breach her tight hole. With one brutal thrust, he impaled her ass, making her eyes roll back.
"Ahhhh, fuck! It's too big! It's splitting meâ it's in my guts!" SinB screamed, her voice shaking.Â
His cock was a monster, tearing through her sphincter like it was nothing. She felt it stretching her insides, poking places no cock should go.
The man held her hips, his cock buried balls-deep, and started pounding her ass like it was a punching bag. SinB's body jolted with each thrust, her pee spraying out as her bladder broken.
The crowd went nuts, their cheers filling the air as the man brutalized her ass, his cock owning her with each brutal stroke. SinB's screams were music to their ears.
The big dude was merciless, slamming his cock into SinB's ass like a jackhammer, her body taking the full force. Her legs were straight, toes pointed, as she endured the sensation of being impaled, her asshole stretched to its limits. It felt like she was trying to poop out a watermelon, but it just kept going deeper.
SinB's eyes were rolled back, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping down her chin as she groaned and whimpered. Her pale tits scraped against the rough wood with each jerking motion.Â
The man grunted like a wild animal, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock even deeper. SinB's ass clenched around him, milking his cock as he pounded her hole.Â
The pleasure was too much, with a few more deep thrusts, he exploded inside her, his hot cum filling her ass. He pulled out, his cock glistening with lube and cum, leaving SinB's ass gaping and sore.Â
She collapsed onto the platform, her body trembling, unable to move or speak. But there was no respite for the idol.
Another tall, muscular guy stepped up, his cock already slick with oil. He knelt behind her, slapping her leaking pussy, making her jerk and whimper. SinB knew the routine by now, and she bit her lip, bracing herself for the incoming invasion.
A few men gathered around her head, their cocks in hand, stroking and getting off on the sight of her oily, abused body. One dude even stepped on her head, his foot pressing down as he admired the show.
The man behind her positioned his thick cockhead at her pussy lips, teasing her entrance. SinB's body tensed, anticipating the pain. With a slow gesture, he pushed inside, making her moan and arch her back.
"Ahh, shit, shitâ My pussy, uhhh!" SinB cried out as his swollen tip popped through her tight pussy lips, stretching her beyond her limits right away. Her pussy clenched around his cock, resisting the invasion, but he kept forcing his way in, inch by inch.
The man was tenacious, his cock a battering ram, pushing past her resistant flesh. SinB screamed and shook, her body a mess of pain as he yanked her onto his cock, burying it deep in her pussy.
Her pee sprayed around his girth, an indication of the intensity of the insertion. The men laughed, their eyes wild with unsatiated lust as the man kept punching her inner walls, his cock slamming against her cervix with each thrust.Â
The sudden pleasure was intense, causing SinB's body to tremble and convulse, her pussy clenching around his cock as she climaxed, her juices flowing and mixing with his. But the pleasure was short-lived as his cock kept pounding, hitting her cervix with lethal impact, causing searing pain.
"Ahhh! Fuck, stop!" SinB cried, her body arching off the platform as the man lost control, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. Blood trickled down her thighs as her pussy was torn and ravaged, the pain almost unbearable.
The man was in a trance, his cock throbbing as he emptied his load deep inside her, breeding her pussy with his cum. He pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices and blood, leaving SinB's pussy gaping and sore.
The men weren't done with her yet. They forced her to drink more of their herbal drugs, keeping her conscious. They even splashed water on her, cleaning the blood and dirt from her body, their rough hands scrubbing her skin.
SinB's body was chained tighter, her wrists and neck secured, ensuring she couldn't escape the breeding that awaited her. More tribesmen lined up, their cocks hard and ready to take over her abused holes.
Day after day, the ritual continued, with over 60 men taking their turns with her every single day. They raped her solo, double-penetrated her, and even tried triple penetration, stretching - tearing her holes beyond their limits. SinB's screams and moans were a constant soundtrack in the camp.
The only sustenance she received was their cum, fed to her by force, enough to keep her alive and fertile for their breeding games. Her memories of her past life as an idol faded, replaced by the constant sensation of huge cocks filling her sore, aching holes.
For weeks, SinB's disappearance was headline news in South Korea. The authorities found Eunha and Umji's bodies, but SinB remained a mystery. Little did they know, she was deep in the African jungle, being bred by a tribe of men.
Weeks turned into a blur for SinB, her body now permanently marked by the tribe's ownership. Her once flat stomach now sported a slight bulge, a result of the countless times she'd been bred.Â
The men had moved her to the barn, where she joined the ranks of other pregnant women, all awaiting the birth of their tribal offspring.
SinB was on all fours, a leash around her neck, her body of stretch marks and bruises. Two tribesmen stood beside her, their rough hands massaging her swollen breasts, tugging at her nipples until milk squirted into a bucket, proof of her fertility - the only reason that kept her alive.
Behind her, a group of men took turns with her ass, their cocks pounding her hole to stimulate her milk production. Her pussy, already dripping with cum from the men who had just used her, was a constant reminder of her fate.
The once vibrant K-pop idol was gone, replaced by a shell of a woman, her body a vessel for the tribe's pleasure and procreation.Â
SinB's mind was a haze, her memories of her past life fading with each brutal fucking. She was now a breeding machine, her body existing solely to produce the next generation of this unknown tribe.
#kpop smut#girl group smut#tw noncon#viviz smut#viviz sinb#Viviz sinb smut#sinb smut#commission#hwang eunbi#gfriend smut#gfriend sinb
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part one: stop, youâre losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze (here)
đđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛_ your memory kept haunting Coriolanus Snow, so he found the way to end his exile. Itâs a new era, but the same old feelings between Coriolanus and you keep causing scandals. Although, you are not ready to let go the pain he caused to you.
đđđŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ_ Capitol ballerina!reader, angst, drama, violence and death lol, jealousy, unhinged Coriolanus, sex mentions, reader still has health problems, etc. 13k words fic IM SORRY
đđŽđđĄđ¨đŤ'đŹ đ§đ¨đđ_ hear this along Canât catch me now, Iâm not an OR fan but I love that song from her. I mean, who didnât? And thank you for the wait and loveeeee. PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY ERRORS BC I CANâT BE ALMOST ACCUSED OF BEING TRANSPHOBIC PLEASEEEE
⪠⍠awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ⰠIndex (+ fics here)
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Red, blue, red, red, yellow, green, green, pink.
Every color is correctly marked. A nurse smiles with some papers on her hand before she dissapears.
You can get dressed again. The color test was done, your vision was okay.
Purple and green bruises are scattered across your skin. Some appeared on your inner thighs. Two on your knees and one on the ribs from the day you collapsed after the post-Hunger Games celebration. You sigh covering your skin with a long floral dress. The reflection of yourself on the mirror salutes you with a tired, broken and sad face. It makes you force a smile, pretending more people were watching you. The room in empty though.
âEverything is fine. Your body is responding well to the shots.â A doctor asks as soon as he walks in into the room.
âThe only thing that worries me is your mental health. Have you been stressed or has anything happened to you that could be considered a traumatic experience?â
The pointe shoes soaked in blood. The unstoppable bleeding on your feet. The late nights with panic attacks and over thinking. That young blonde man and the songbird together. The night on dressing room, how your hand burned after slapping the man so hard. The shock of all the events surrounding your life two weeks ago. How you lost control, your head spinning, blurred vision, heart pounding, numb arms and how you felt the oxygen was leaving. All the things you did for someone who never deserved you, making you shatter, fainting as soon as you finished dancing.
âMiss y/l/n⌠Are you okay?â The distant voice of the doctor breaks your bubble. You shake your head in disguise before turning away from the mirror, facing him and smiling politely.
âYes, Iâm fine. I was very stressed, yeah. Working with the production of the Hunger Games. My artistic performances, last days at the Academy. It was a lotâŚâ the doctor sighs, annotating something. He then handed you the paper.
âIâm giving you some treatment for that. And please, you have to be careful and calm. Only that way the medicine will help everything to work hereâ he points his head. You nod, accepting the paper.
After that, you leave the private hospital. Trevor is there, your chauffeur and friend. He smiles, opening the door for you.
âThank you, Trevorâ he starts the car soon after.
âIs everything okay?â You nod, looking at the bright day at the Capitol.
âI just need to relax and eat well.â Trevor had trimmed his hair. It made him look younger, making you smile at the memory of him saying his wife was his hairstylist.
âGood. Oh, I received a call from your mother. This womanâŚuh, Dr. Volumnia Gaul? She wants to see you at the Univeristy todayâ you frown to look at him confused.
âOh? So⌠Can we go now?â He nods, turning left to start the route. Meanwhile, you wonder what could she want. You made your part, the games had a higher amount of viewers compared to last year. You engaged with the production and the celebration was at full capacity. Your little accident even made it more attractive to the media. Appearing on the papers and magazines across Panem.
And after everything, you still wanted to keep dancing. Or else range would consume you.
âŚ
Itâs the first time you step inside the Capitolâs University. Itâs very similar to the Academy, but the floor tiles are green and white. Thereâs a lot of white, cream, golden and black decorating the halls and long stairs.
Since itâs summer, most of the building was empty. Only some of the staff, and very few people who seemed like students. You see they dress very elegant. Some women wore hats with feathers or flowers. The men wore classy suits and you genuinely thought you would fit in.
You couldnât wait to have some sense of normality as a Univeristy student along Clemensia and Lysistrata. Your only close friends left. Well, also Festus and Sejanus. At the time, you didnât event know your dear friend was dead.
What seems like the private office of Gaul has a red door. Inside, she had a laboratory, smaller but weirder than the one you had seen before. Full of dissected creatures, tanks and crystal containers with unknown chemicals.
Some steps further and you see her desk, where she is collecting some folders and putting them away in some shelves.
âGlad to see you breathing, miss y/l/nâŚâ somehow you found the humor to smile coldly.
âAs you can see.â You reply standing perfectly correct.
âBy this point you should know what happened to Mr. Snowâ goosebumps make you shake your shoulders slightly, you nod again.
âHe was exiled. Twenty years. He lied to me and did not said a thing about cheating on the gamesâ
âIndeed. However this morning, I just discovered he bribed a woman to be sent to District 12.â You bite your tongue to hide your fury. A hot feeling invade your chest in rage. But you just breathe, failing to not show discontent.
âThatâs not any of my business anymore.â Even Gaul seems taken aback. However, she doesnât say anything, she just keeps pulling away the pile of folders.
âWell, since it seems you both parted ways⌠I must share that Iâm deleting any record or data related to the 10th Hunger Games. Too many things happened before, during and after the games. Things that would compromise the reputation of the whole organization. Including me, the Academy, the mentors, you and Mr. Snowâ honestly, you donât know what to say. You just frown slightly, demonstrating how confused you were. But you also understood with half of the context. The death of Arachne, Coriolanus and his odd ways to make his songbird oustand, the rebel attack, Lucy Gray Baird winning from cheat. And the things you didnt know like Sejanus entering the arena.
However, you stick to your parentâs advice. You have to think about you and anyone else.
âI understand. But I did my part. I completed my task so I hope this decision doesnât jeopardize my grantâ she smiles. Dr. Gaul secretly believed that you and Coriolanus Snow could rule Panem together. In a sick and evil way, so she really hoped her dark intentions would work.
âOf course not. We had a deal. The views went up this year. You brought a new vision for the promotion that Iâll hardly let go.â The ambition started tickling you. Making you roll your tongue inside your closed mouth, at the verge of opening it and talking.
âGood.â
âIn fact, you would be a nice option to become head of the promotion and relations team.â From the last games, you realized the director only gave instructions but he rarely did the dirty job. You liked having some power over the games. And now, a childish and unjustified resentment towards District 12 made you smile as Gaul offered you a new job.
âIs it a possible option to be working in behalf of my motherâs institution?â
âYouâre very smart, y/n y/l/n. You are going further than Mr. Snowâ your smile only grows, knowing you are nit being correct. You are letting the rage and resentment to guide you. You will make your last name shine brighter than your parents did. Just to rub it in the face of certain blonde who was now exiled. Probably savoring the country life of District 12.
âI just want to make my familyâs name bigger than it already isâ the woman giggles, taking out a red envelope and handing it you.
âI assume youâll pursue the arts as youâre speciality. But if you want to get involved with the production, marketing and relations. You are taking politics and some lessons with meâ when you look down at the envelope, the golden logo of the university is greeting you. Itâs the admission letter.
âI expect to see you here by the end of the summerâ you nod, thanking her.
And as you walk outside where Trevor is waiting for you, you have a cocky smile. Feelings like things could go better. You donât even remember the doctorâs appointment you were in before coming to see Gaul.
âŚ
Your soft hands gently brush against his forehead. Coriolanus had chills, he hadnât had fever since he was 15 years old. But your hands are so soft even when they feel cold as ice. He just knows heâs in his bed. In his rottening penthouse. He can see a slightly blurred image of you, wearing a green dress, your hair in a braid, a golden necklace, dark purple lips. He canât hear your words, but you are talking to him, spreading some cream across his chest, immediately he felt the mint soothing his cough and pain. He mustâve said something funny, because he can now see clearly your face, gorgeous as always. And he can clearly hear you laughing.
Coriolanus wakes up smiling. And he realised he was dreaming.
He was in a small and creaky lower bunk bed. Sejanus sleeping in the upper bunk. The sun hasnât come up. And heâs a peacekeeper in District 12.
Itâs been weeks since he left the Capitol. And since day one, you seem to be haunting him.
Current dreams of you, swearing to be hearing your voice. It makes him want to call you every single day. But he doesnât. He was able to forget about you when he was in the peacekeeper training and duties. When he was with Lucy Gray any trace of you was gone. But as soon as he had a moment alone, he would remember everyhting about you.
He missed you. Painfully a lot.
Every Friday, he had been sending the letters. He hoped your mother would hand them to you. But Coriolanus knew you too well to know you likely would not be reading them. Nonetheless, he was letting himself to write the most vulnerable pieces of him, putting his heart on each word and phrase. Hoping that by the time his exile was over, you would have forgiven him.
When the sun came up, he was up along the rest of the boys. Sejanus gives him a friendly smile and theyâre out exercising and doing jobs all day long. During his break, heâs able to seat in an old bench, with a beautiful view of an open green field.
Thatâs when he dreams of seeing you there, dancing or simply standing there with a sundress. Like the ones you used to wear on summer when he visited the house your parents had in District 4. He dreams so hard that he swears seeing the skirt of your dress swaying through the trees. And thatâs when he knows heâs so fucked up.
But thatâs long forgotten after the break is over. And by the night, heâs on the biggest bar of the town. He sees Lucy Gray singing something new. He honestly never understood the meaning behind her songs, but he was enchanted by her do what she loved.
After her live presentation, a big projector was introduced. They started playing the weather with Lucky Flickerman. Which made Coriolanus miss the Capitol so bad.
âTheyâre probably waiting for some women. Thatâs why the always start that thingâ Lucy Gray said, appearing by his side and pointing at the projector. He smiled at her.
âTo see women?â She nodded, grabbing a glass of cold water.
âYou know how are men around hereâ with no tv around, no ostentatious lifestyles, men could get excited with little makeup and satin gowns. Coriolanus was disgusted by many mannerism of the 12. He had heard and seen many disapproving behaviors. But he was happy to be able to find some peace along the songbird.
âYes, I know. Whatâs that thing by the way?â When Coriolanus turned around to see the old projector, he almost choked after seeing the big logo appearing.
It was the summer fundraising charity of your mother. Another luxurious gala to help the constructions of the Capitol after war. However, that wasnt the most impressive part for Coriolanus. Seconds after the recovered from seeing something directly related to his past, you appeared in the projector, entering the stage and getting in pose to start a performance.
Lucy Gray Baird was in shock. So if she was surprised, the men all around the bar where cheering and whistling.
There you were, with curled wet hair, metallic bronze makeup, wine lips, golden bracelets on your arms. But it was the attire. A two piece set that let your legs and stomach show off. With bare feet, and two elegant knives, one in each hand. Your cocky smile was back. And it was ruining Coriolanus Snow.
He literally jumped from his seat, leaving Lucy Gray to cross the river of men and properly see you.
She knew you had broken up with him. And that relieved the songbird, as she felt like she could let her feelings for Coriolanus flow freely. But seeing the boy literally hipnotized as soon he saw you, it made her feel uneasy. Deeply she knew that Coriolanus wasnât over you. And no matter what, you were a sensible subject for him. That not even herself could ever test.
But he kept going. Each step meant hearing them say how good you looked, the places where theyâd put their hands on your body. It boiled his blood.
But finally, the dance killed him. Because maybe for the capitol you were still elegant and classy. Their eyes would publicly appreciate your art, and privately let their mind wander with your half naked body. But for people from the 12. It was like throwing a piece of meat to lions in starvation.
With your hips swaying tentatively, pointed feet and letting everyone know how flexible you were. That sassy look on your face that Coriolanus was feeling too personal. It was like you were saying âlook what you lostâ.
He was used to see you in pastel tutus, hair in a bun. Not this goddess ritual dance type of thing. The music was very different, something very uncommon in Panem. He really wants to punch every man in the room. He sees how most of the women in the bar see your graceful image with disgust. And Coriolanus couldnât blame them. But it made him remember that he had lost the right to call you his. And that intrusive thought made him automatically think he wanted to go back home so badly.
Your sensual and meticulous steps keep going, the knives making him remember the folk tales of women dancing with sharp objects to show fertility, honor of their kingdom and to seal a manâs faith. Every minute more desperate for Snow, whoâs over the edge of hearing men say plenty of things about you. But soon, the music stops with you arched, pointed feet, your curls kissing the stage, the knives perfectly pointing like a clock.
Coriolanus doesnt miss your evil smile. He can sense you are changing. And he remember all the pain he caused you, making him sigh in resignation. His desire of going back for you only growing.
âIâm sorry I left like thatâ he explains to Lucy Gray. She notices how quick he drank his beer. She was a woman after all, she knew the effect a fine female could have on men. Especially on the man who was their lover. The one that probably hurt her and left her, ending their history in bad terms.
âItâs okay. I told you she was very pretty beforeâ Coriolanus learns that Lucy Gray was not being sarcastic that day at the zoo.
âŚ
It had come to the point where he couldnât run away from his thoughts. Coriolanus was borderline obsessed with your memory. He constantly wondered how you were doing. He had to ask Tigris every time they talked to see learn anything about you.
For the first time, since he left the Capitol, Tigris shares that she had talked to you.
Coriolanus was surprised to hear that the reason you gave about the breakup was only because he cheated with Lucy Gray.
You didnât said a word about him the lies, the last argument you two had. You only say that his songbird was special. And that you stopped to be what he needed.
Which was heavily mistaken. Some days before he accepted that you were the only thing he needed to keep going. He imagines a fake scenario where you came to the 12 with him. You find a humble home where you wait till his training is over. The lake where he spent hours with Lucy Gray and The Covey couldâve been hours with you. Talking about anything and everything. He wouldâve come straight home to you when the training was over. Make love to you, promise to fight for a higher position, possibly as a commander one day and marrying you. And soon the years wouldâve passed, his exile would be over and you would go back to the Capitol with him. Maybe some children along.
But that would never happen. And his delusion was starting to make him find a way to go back where he belonged.
He questioned if his urges where for power, or to get back with the woman he loved.
Whatever the reason was, a lot of people would pay the price. First were the daughter of the mayor and her partner, then the man who had the decency to hide the gun he used to kill those two. Who also happened to be his alleged best friend.
His hands trembling as he pressed to record Sejanus. But he knew there were high possibilities of being heard. And that way, he would go back. He would find you and slowly start again.
The death of Sejanus would haunt him for a long time. He knew he was a close friend of yours, which made him get chills, uneasy to decide what could be your reaction to the news. Either way, it was done. The heavens had to have heard him. He was offered to serve in District 2, gain some money and he could easily take the train to see you if anything.
But Lucy Gray had other plans. And Coriolanus wasnt even sure of what he was doing. Probably in his rambling and panic after everything he went through as a peacekeeper, one side of him wanted to run away and never see back again. To forget about his decisions as a mentor, to forget about his decisions as a peacekeeper and to forget about you. That way he would never have to face all the pain he caused you.
After some hours of walking, Coriolanus should have seen the signs.
âEveryone in the Covey are really good dancers. But I donât think itâs my thing. I just have my voiceâŚâ Lucy Gray said, holding her bag tightly. Coriolanus only smiled, remembering how bad the songbird was when he tried to teach her how to waltz.
âIs it like⌠exclusive in the Capitol?â
âI think so. Today thereâs only one institution, the mother ofâŚâ he goes quiet, realizing what he was about to say.
ââŚy/n?â She asked, almost nervous about mentioning your name. But in reality, she wasnt. After Coriolanus nodded, they just kept walking in silence.
âHer mother founded it?â
âIt was her grandmother actually. Mine knew her, and they were kind of friendsâ he said smiling, trying to look away from Lucy Gray so he couldnât see him smiling.
Once you leaned Coriolanus was financially struggling some years ago, you ended up visiting him for the first time. That day you learned Grandmaâam was friend of your family before your mother was born. And that only made her appreciate you faster. Which made Coriolanus happy. Finally seeing her grandmother to let go the days of the war and any crazy ideas that stayed on her mind. All thanks to you.
âGrandmaâam even started planting pink roses for her.â It slipped out automatically, he couldnât control it.
âSheâs like inkâŚâ Coriolanus missed the point. But after some minutes of silence, he understood what Lucy Gray said. Which resulted true. Metaphorically, you were the brightest tint heâd ever seen. He let that ink fall and splash everywhere, leaving stains on him that probably would never leave.
And finally, Lucy Gray Baird fell to her end in the shallow woods. Hunted like a prey. By a broken man who decided to stop being good. Who was losing his mind for the pieces of a woman he let go so easily.
That changes like the destination of Coriolanus.
Heâs going back to the Capitol. With tiny sparks of hope. But firmly believing that everyhting was meant to happen like that so he could go back to you.
However, as he came closer, Coriolanus realized he was lost. He had no idea what would await for him. And what version of you would greet him.
âŚ
There isnât an exact period over the Capitol that canât be considered as autumn. The summer was practically over, and winter was already happening. Coriolanus had to wait longer than expected to get into University. In the meantime, he accepted the money from the Plinth family. He decided to get ahead of time. He used the last hot days to get Tigris and Grandmaâam back to the penthouse. He bought the whole building and in two weeks the whole place was renewed. There was only one thing he couldnât get rid of. The living room and entrance olive paint you brought. He painted the halls, dining room, studio and kitchen in a dark blue paint. But he wasnt able to get rid of the memories he made with you. His old self was long gone. But he had his supcisions that the version he was for you would never change.
However, he decided to stay afar from the public eye for that month after returning from exile.
Tigris said she hadnât seen you. But that was okay. He would soon enter to University. He was going to see you there.
Eventually the day came. He gets rid off Casca Highbottom and then he walks towards the big and imposing University of the Capitol. He had a driver now, but he thought it wouldnât be bad to use the mornings to walk.
In his first hours inside, he has private lessons with Dr. Gaul. Already mentoring him to be a game maker. She kind of suspects he was involved with the sudden death of Highbottom. But for some reason, Gaul has a lot of hopes in him, so she would easily act blind to keep her plans to keep going.
After that, Coriolanus starts looking out for you. He crosses the big seminar rooms and other halls. Until he is able to locate the arts building. Itâs smaller but probably the most interesting. With a beautiful barroque facade. As soon as he enters, he sees a group of girls holding large canvas with beautiful paintings on them. Then, some steps later he spots two guys trying to carry a sculpture. Coriolanus believes that kind of modern art was the future of the Capitol. He had to admit the arts building was fully alive, he even forgot he was still at the university.
Coming down from some stairs, he sees two girls. A red haired and a tanned with black leotards and floral skirts are giggling. They seems like dancers, he doesnt think twice. Heâs already approaching the girls.
âExcuse me, ladies. Do you know by any chance where I can find y/n y/l/n?â The girls look cheekily at each other, before smiling at him. Which makes Coriolanus wonder what type of rumours had been flowing around about you and him. Since mostly everyone knew the last Snow heir was dating the daughter of the kings of Panem´s television industry.
âSheâs rehearsing a class for new students. Itâs on the second floor, youâll hear the musicâŚâ he thanks the tanned girl before going upstairs.
She wasnât lying. He started hearing the classical piano music. He can hear some distant and low cheering. The whole floor is full of dancers. Itâs a long hall, to the right, a big studio, with a classical mural, chandeliers and the most giant mirror heâd ever seen.
The people outside the studio see him with curiosity. But he only has eyes for the ballerina dancing all across the studio.
There you are, with a coral tutu, baby pink leotard and thighs. Your pointe shoes seem new. Your cheeks look so pink and your smile is there.
He has to understand that you have become popular enough to have your own fans. Some rumors said that your mother was offering master classes at the University. And he couldnât help but think how much your familyâs name have growth since he left.
He lost count of many turns you did, but you finish cleanly, offering a beautiful view of your tutu wadding. He canât stop smiling.
People start a round of applauses. He debates whether to get closer or not. He doesnt have any speech prepared. He doesnât know what to say to you.
âCoriolanus?â When he turns around, he sees Clemensia Dovecote there. Her old study buddy looked older, but not in a bad way. He saw the scales on her skin. But he didnt had to ask, he knew it was because of the rainbow snakes. It just seemed weird to see her short sleeves but turtleneck, rather than her trying to cover all of her face.
âClemensiaâ he greets her. Clemmie was probably your female best friend. It wasnt a surprise that suddenly the woman seemed to dislike him.
âSince when you returned?â He looks back at you again. As the music keeps playing, he just smiles. He know the way things would now work. With no how are you questions or anything like the past.
âSome weeks ago.â Clemensia looks like sheâs analyzing every movement and word of him.
âWhy are you here?â Her hostile tone only makes Coriolanus to act more relaxed than he already is.
âI made the promise to come back for y/nâŚâ the woman stares at him, probably taken aback.
âShe doesnât need this, Coriolanus. She canât have thisâ Clemensia had visited you at the hospital. She learned most of his lies towards you. She knew you didnât deserved to fall again. And especially not because of him.
âI know, Clemmie. I wonât be a burden for herâ the music stops, and Coriolanus decides that itâs not time to talk to you yet. So he smiles once again to Clemensia.
âI hope so. Because you already failed her onceâŚâ his smile drops. Clemensia dissapears to get inside the studio. Coriolanus stares at you one last time, before he silently walks out.
âŚ
Before you can reach your glass of posca, a porcelain plate with your food slides on the way. A soft piece pile of fried little steaks, with melted cheese and a golden sauce of mushrooms dripping. Your stomach churns and it makes Clemensia laugh.
She had a salmon fine cut with caviar and other exotic stuff. It was a beautiful afternoon to have dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants of the Capitol Downtown.
âBless your food.â
âBless your foodâ you reply back to her.
âSo, How it went the rehearsal?â You roll your eyes giggling.
âIt was great, until the girls taking the masterclass appeared to see meâ your father was right. After working in the production of the 10th Hunger Games, many doors opened for you. Splendid career opportunities here and there. Only that you didnât enjoy a lot of attention.
âAre they still at the Academyâ you nod.
âRich girls who can make their parents pay the classes of courseâ Clemensia smiles, drinking a little bit before getting back to eat.
âCoriolanus was looking for youâŚâ you literally stopped eating. You almost drop your fork, but you decided to hold it firmly.
âWhat?â
âApparently heâs back.â She reveals. Making you close your eyes in panic.
âHow? He was exiledâ you say whispering. Clemmie shrugs.
âGaul. Heâs her pupil star. And with Dean Highbottom dead nowâŚâ it mustâve been great for Coriolanus to learn the man was gone. Always putting him in the lowest, it was a mark for change.
âDoesnât matter, I wonât let this get into my wayâ she smiles.
âWhat about what your father said?â During a late lunch, you had been talking with your parents, revealing that you broke up with Coriolanus because he cheated. Your mother was shocked, but soon she joined your father to give a twisted advice. He asked if you still loved him. You answered you werenât sure.
Then I suggest you to proceed to ignore him. Soon youâll learn his intentions if he ever comes back. Play with him a little. Show him that nobody will laugh in the face of family like ours. Let your hands get dirty, but never show this insecurity youâre talking about.
From that day, you still wake up every morning without knowing how you actually feel about Coriolanus Snow. You know you canât just simply forget about all the things you did with him. But you firmly pretended that he was in the past.
âI still donât know how I feel about him.â
âAre you still in contact with his family?â You remember Tigris and Grandmaâam.
âNot as much as I used toâ
âMhm. Did they ever learned what happened?â You sigh.
âJust that he opted to choose the songbird before me. And I know Tigris has her own opinion. I just never gave her the opportunity to share it.â
âWith him back⌠probably youâll find out sooner than laterâ Clemensia admits, leaving you thinking for the rest of the dinner.
Turns out that you are not ready to find out yet.
âŚ
The first time you see him, itâs at the gardens of the University. You had lunch and wanted to have a brief walk. Through a maze of flowers and plants, you spot him on a bench. Heâs very concentrated reading a book. Your eyes widen, seeing how much different he looked. The posture, the clothes, the hair, the cold look.
Something notoriously changed. And you have your suspicions. It wasnât a coincidence that Sejanus was gone, and Lucy Gray Baird had dissapeared.
You mourned the death of Sejanus one week. You send your condolences to his parents at the funeral. And that night you canât help but cry on your pillow. Wondering why had life slowly turned dark. In a matter of months you had experienced things you never thought you would. You lost people, you had your first heart broken. You had lost the will to do much things. But, you had to keep going. And you felt guilty, because you thought you had no right to feel like your life was hard, just for being Capitol. The districts struggled more. However, itâs not on your power to mend their lives. Just as itâs not their case to judge your life.
And now, seeing Coriolanus so firm, so calm, it makes you doubt. Sensing that there mustâve been something off about him. Something bad, like all the things he did and hid from you.
You pretend youâre looking for some papers in your bag when you walk past him. He doesnât see you though, and you thank it.
A couple of days later, you hear for the first time the rumours about him courting Livia Cardew. It makes you feel depressed. You cry out of anger as soon as you get home.
And to your dismay, the first thing you see after turning into a room for the politics class, itâs them. Coriolanus Snow is talking to Livia just beside the door.
Thatâs the first time you two look at each other again. He sees the anger, discontent and so much resentment. You see the questioning, curiosity and admiration in his eyes.
Nothing else is said because you break the gazes, you walk inside the room with your head high, and your presence is so evident that even Livia has to look at you. Taking too much time to see your beautiful heels.
A week later, you are having a good time with your friends. Festus and Lysistrata are there with you and Clemensia. You are talking all about the upcoming winter gala held at the biggest auditorium in the Capitol. Everyone is excited because itâs the great opportunity to make contacts and eat the most delicious food.
âIs your mother inviting Coriolanus?â Lysistrata asks with curiosity. You roll your eyes at the subject.
âI hope not. I havenât even spoken with him ever since he came backâ everyone knew you had broke up with him. But only Clemensia knew the details.
âWell, apparently he is courting Livia nowâ Festus mocks, making everyone laugh. Not that any of you had something personal against Livia. But she wasnât the most brilliant star at the Academy. Now not certainly at University.
âWhy Livia?â Clemmie asks laughing.
âPerhaps itâs becase how naĂŻve she isâ
âOr because of her fatherâs inheritanceâ you add.
âI donât think so. Heâs now the heir of the Plinth fortuneâ Festus remarks with dessaproval, which makes you feel angered.
âHeâs dancing on Sejanusâ graveâ your words create some minutes of silence for your late friend. Even when Festus and Lysistrata had made fun of him for being District and the ways of his parents to go up, at the end, they were friends. And now his absence had created a void.
âAmbitious and annoying. Just like his fatherâŚâ Lysistrata comments sipping on her glass of water.
âHow unfortunate. If he had stayed with you, we wouldnât be talking bad things about him behind his backâ you sigh at Clemensiaâs words.
âSpeaking of the kingâŚâ when you look past Lysistrata seated on her chair, you spot Coriolanus. He was wearing a dark grey suit, he looked so fine you had to admit. But soon you look away, the sudden memories of your last days with him haunt you.
After spotting his old friends and ex lover in a table at the cafeteria, he start walking towards there. Trying to make his first moves to go back to normality.
âYeah. He wouldâve been seated beside me right now. But he consciously choose the songbird before me. At least heâs refining himself a little bit with Liviaâ your friends turn to look at you in shock after the revelation, Clemmie only rises her brows as she sips her water silently, hiding her smile. By the time Coriolanus arrives the table, youâre gone and he curses himself for not walking faster. Festus and Lysistrata are shocked, making him furrow his brows in confusion.
âDid I missed something?â He asks.
âYou had an affair with your tribute?â Lysistrata asks back in disgust. Coriolanus sees Clemensia giggling in silence with her head down. Probably enjoying his embarrassment.
His silence meets the requirement for an answer. One that they take as yes.
âAnd now y/n knows about you and Liviaâ Coriolanus frowns ever deeper after looking at Clemensia.
âThereâs no Livia and Iâ He responds firmly. Even disgusted to her his name along the least smart girl of his finances class.
âOh but everyone believes so. That youâre courting herâŚâ he rolls his eyes, annoyed.
âIâm just talking to her because weâre partners for some stupid research paperâ the silent sipping on their drinks at the same time is ridiculous to Coriolanus. He just stares at them annoyed.
âDo me a favor and leave her alone, Coriolanus. You were gone to go to your nobody girl from 12, but I stayed and saw her struggling in that hospital bedâ Clemensia speaks confidently. Making the blonde to feel threatened.
So he realises that maybe you could have feelings for him still. And that this rumors could have weight on you. He curses himself. Even without realizing, heâs still hurting you.
âI wonât lose the girl twice, Clemmie. Have a good dayâ he says with a fake smile before leaving the table in shock.
He had to quicken the pace of his proximity with you. He had to make you see he never stopped caring for you.
âŚ
Thereâs a shattering mess of broken glasses. You quickly move away from the crime scene, looking for your pills, immediately swallowing two.
Your motherâs assistant opens the door, asking for you with concern.
âIs everything okay, miss y/n?â You turn to look a the woman.
âI accidentally threw the jar. SorryâŚâ Millie is in her mid thirties. She was your motherâs confidant, and slowly yours too. She sees the news paper in the floor, half of it drenched from the broken jar that had water. She can see the title, The Snow heir tights the knot with the Cardew family?
âIâll call the maids. Donât worryâ she says looking back at you.
âThanks Millie.â She smiles, closing the door behind.
You breathe loudly, sighing in stress. Of course you had purposely thrown the water jar because of the news paper. A portrait picture of Livia is placed perfectly aligned with one of Coriolanus. Between some paragraph thereâs your name too. But you donât dare to see why.
You may pretend to be okay to the public eye, but youâre still drowning in the same feelings you got after Coriolanus Snow revealed his lies to you.
Itâs almost like if he was still mocking you. Showing everyone how easy he had played with you. And how easy he got rid of you.
Someone had to pay. No, not someone, he. He, himself, Coriolanus Snow had to fail. Only that way you would feel slightly better. Only that way your tears would stop being for him.
The first chance you had, you would take it.
âŚ
While you loved pursuing a dancing career along the production stuff. You still had some duties regarding politics and economy. Which is why you ended up at the submissions office so early in the morning. To send a petition.
You end up at at a messy office. A man is there, moving folders and other type of papers. Thereâs three baskets that can clearly be read as; approved, denied, pending.
However, you quickly look away to smile at the man whoâs sitting behind the chair.
âGood morning.â Your smile is contagious to everyone. The man replies with a warm greeting.
âGood morning, miss y//l/n. How can I help you?â
âI was wondering if you could hand me a petition form to sendâ he nods, standing up, leaving the mess of papers behind.
âI can, just let me go and print the form. It wonât take too longâŚâ you smile again, letting him go outside the office.
As you wait, you start seeing the racks of boxes and more boxes filled with yellow and lined papers.
Your curiosity grows, making you look at the baskets on the desk.
You see at first glance some graduation petitions, letters, etc. You are still curious to see why some papers where pending. So you look at the door one last time before diving into the papers. You donât know the first students mentioned. Until you see the third yellow folder, where you can see a white strip with black letter saying Coriolanus Snow.
You open the folder, seeing what it was all about. A petition to start a political campaign at the age of 19. You frowned. He was good at writing. Even with letters he had some charm. But you know he never beated you to be precise and delicate. You always heard Grandmaâam saying he would one day be president. But you never seriously discussed it with him. Now you know it was real. And you canât help but feel an enormous amount of remorse.
He doesnât deserve it. He had lost everything once, but the way he was earning everything was through breaking you, and probably others youâll never knew about. Even when it would make Tigris and Grandmaâam happy, you slip the folder into the basket of denied. You donât feel nothing as you do it.
In fact, you offer the sweet man a smile when he comes back with the form for you. You thank him and then walk out.
âŚ
Coriolanus swears he didnât intend to bump into your father at the bank. Your father was a frivolous man, but since he knew him, he greeted Coriolanus with respect.
The blonde was taken aback when he invited him to have dinner at your house. And he couldnât say no.
Your house is the same. At least from the outside, because inside, thereâs more color. Coriolanus sees your mother. And she offers him a smile before he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek.
âCoriolanus, look at you. You look very handsome!â His cheeks warm, as your father giggles, handing his coat to a maid.
âI ran into him at the bank. Whereâs y/n, dear?â Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes.
âThat girl. I havenât seen her out of her room since middayâ the sudden sound of your heels gets noticed.
âIâm hereâ you say, coming down the stairs, putting some earrings on. Coriolanus notices the grey dress and black heels along the red tights. A diadem on your head and a bright smile that soon dissapears as you spot him in your house.
âLook who I found earlierâ you sigh, standing straight.
âI seeâŚâ Your parents can see the way you correct your posture, showing how uncomfortable you are.
âWeâre having dinnerâŚâ you ignore Coriolanus and his deep gaze on you.
âI canât stay for dinner. I have rehearsals and I promised Clemmie to go to her birthday dinner partyâ they exchange looks. And Coriolanus is at the verge of smiling at the way you are making up an excuse to leave. Running away from him.
âAre you meeting with Jan before?â Coriolanus head almost pops to look at your father. And you donât know if you should smile. Jan was your dance partner, he would dance with you at the gala. He was older, very handsome. And you wished he wasnât off limits from you. Because you easily could admit your attraction towards him.
âCan you at least stay for some drinks?â You shrug at your mother, accepting your purse from a maid. You ignore Coriolanus and his way of looking at you, almost petrified.
His head was spinning, he needed to know who the hell was Jan.
âUnless you want me to do horrible at the Winter Gala, no. I cannot stay, motherâ she sighs, tilting her head towards your father. He understands, your father was the one who convinced you to ignore Coriolanus and play with him.
âWell, thatâs fine. Just be polite and say goodbye to Coriolanus.â You nod, watching them leave inside the long corridor to enter the dinning table.
You remain quiet, looking down at your purse to avoid his eyes.
âYou look lovelyâ he says, breaking the ice.
âThank you.â
Itâs the first time you two talk since months ago.
âI heard you want to start your political campaignâ you opt to pretend you are okay and you can face him with confidence.
âI did. But the idiots of the council rejected my essay. Guess itâll give me more time to focus on university.â You nod, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside the purse. You want to smile so badly. He would never know you were the reason of his failed first steps in the politic of Panem.
âAnyways⌠How youâve been?â
âIâm fine, Coriolanus.â the way you sound tired. Like tired of him makes him uncomfortable. But he tries to keep his best smile too.
âWho is Jan?â He asks almost too seriously. You smile politely at him
âNo one of your business, Snowâ you calling him by his last name takes him very aback.
âYou know, I just hoped that⌠you know. Maybe we could start off again⌠like friends of courseâ you giggle, lowering your head. He frowns confused.
âMiss y/n, Trevor is waiting in the car for youâ the butler say appearing from the side door, you thank him and he leaves again.
âI donât think thereâs a way to start again. You already failed me once, Coriolanus.â You admit, putting on the gloves with a bittersweet smile on your face. You turn to pat his cheek, and he swears heâs about to melt. He lounged for your touch since the moment he left you at the hospital. He closes his eyes, hoping to slow down time and felt your cold touch.
But you move away your hand. He opens his eyes and sees you putting the last pair of the gloves on. You walk towards the door.
âYou know where the dinning table room is.â And with that, you are gone.
âŚ
Your father gave him the green light to court you again. Coriolanus had to swear that he would never cause you any type of pain, or else, your father would destroy his career before it officially started.
That was more than enough for him. Since that day, slowly, he had been greeting you almost every day, at Univeristy and when you ecountered him and Tigris in a furniture store. You personally invited her to the Winter gala, and Tigris agreed to not share the news about the invitation. But to the young Snow woman, it was a surprise that your father had already invited Coriolanus to the gala.
Soon the day came. As usual the gala opened with the performance of an specific play, than everyone celebrated in the hall with fine dining, and everyone gossiped as auctions happened. It had been a couple of weeks, very busy ones. Probably it was even more important than the arts gala on March. But for this special occasion you had rehearsed a lot to be an elegant black swan.
You smile at your own reflection at the mirror, the black tutu was gorgeous. The crown you had to use was very intriguing. And the black makeup made you feel very confident.
âI came as soon as I couldâ Clemensia suddenly opens the door of your dressing room. She looks agitated, but she looked amazing on a beige dress and her hair in half ponytail.
âYou look very prettyâ she thanks you.
âBut look at you. You are going to be amazing.â She sits and both start gossiping.
âYour father invited Coriolanus.â It makes you roll your eyes tired. But you are having a heartache.
âIâm⌠not sure if I donât feel anything about himâ Clemmie leaves her glass of champagne.
âThe newspaper rumour affected you. Right?â Slowly, you nod. Too embarrassed to look at her in the eye. But Coriolanus had been really good. He smiled at you at any chance he could. Some days he would join you and your friends and he was fun, you had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. And Clemensia had seen it too.
âI canât blame you. I was there since the beginningâŚâ your friend had seen the courting, the first awkward hand holding, how you two formed a strong connection. And Coriolanus left you at the hospital.
âYou two had a beautiful bond. And he broke it. But that doesnât mean you canât miss himâ Clemmie goes to hug you.
âPaâ said to keep playing with him, to ignore him. But Iâm tired, I just want to healâ she nods, letting you hide your face on her shoulder.
âYou want my advice?â You nod.
âDo not force anything. Be polite to him, but avoid giving him any chance yet. As you heal, youâll find the answer; if you should let him have another chance or notâ
A man knocks. When Clemensia opens the door, he receives a bouquet of white roses.
You could recognize those roses anywhere. You get closer, taking the attached note.
Grandmaâam and Tigris didnât know what flowers to cut.
Good luck.
You try to hide your smile. But itâs impossible.
âŚ
The whole place is full. Coriolanus takes a seat with Tigris besides.
âI talked with her yesterday. She said she was very nervous about this oneâ Tigris says. Coriolanus knows sheâs talking about you.
âSheâs always perfect, she shouldnât feel nervous.â His mind was only thinking about Jan. He did his research. And learned he was a former dancer of your motherâs institution. It made him mad.
âHave you thought about inviting her to have dinner?â Coriolanus shakes his head.
âNot yet, I havenât talked enough to herâ
âWell, hurry up. Grandmaâam wanted to see you married by the age of 20â she says laughing. But it doesnât make Coriolanus smile.
âOh look, itâs startingâ Tigris squealed with excitement. The curtains lifted and the show started.
For the first twenty minutes, heâs so bored. Nothing exciting happens. He thinks the white swan is boring. And for the first time, he meets Jan. It makes him feel jealous.
It only worsened when you appeared on stage. Your black attire makes him go mad. He had never seen you in anything like that. He gets very invested in your scenes. He feels the emotion you are trying to project. Sassy, cheeky and attractive. You succeed to him.
Unfortunely, Jan had to appear too. And Coriolanus has to sigh, dealing with the scene of the man holding you to make you gracefully spin. The music doesnât help, it holds the sense of you and Jan dancing together. Coriolanus knows dancing has a lot to do with acting. But he doesnât enjoy the looks of lust and desire between you and your partner. The worst part? He had to seat and watch it for at least fifteen minutes.
His head malfunctions. But he already is telling Tigris he needs to the restroom.
Itâs a lie. He goes to the dressing rooms. And his luck was so big that he found the one with the name of Jan. He slowly made his way inside. The place was so old that he didnât need to check for security or anything, but he wanted to make sure nobody would see him in real time.
He wasnât sure what he wanted to accomplish, but surely he wanted to get rid of the man who apparently had your attention now. Your mother had said you and Jan worked very well. And now, with him seeing the performance, he was more than sure he couldnât let it move forward.
His hand went to his pocket, and his eyes widened. He felt the little glass tubes of narcotics. The same he used to kill Casca Highbottom.
He thought about it just for a little. Was it worth it? Getting rid of a man just to have easier access to you.
Maybe.
Then he questioned how bad he wanted you back. Coriolanus had missed you since day one. He knew he would never love anyone else. He knew no one would treat him as you once did.
So he poured the liquid from one of the tubes inside the water flask resting on the vanity. And before leaving, Coriolanus slipped two more tubes inside the bag that contained Janâs clothes.
âYou took very long at the restroomâ Tigris tells her cousin when he came back.
âThere was a long lineâ
âŚ
This time, is different. You smile and you can hear the big round of applauses as you make reverence to go off from stage. You were the last one and the curtains came down finally.
Once you are free, you have all the time in the world to breathe. Other dancers and production staff members congratulate you. But itâs Coriolanus Snow the one who makes you frown confused. He was backstage, looking at you with a soft smile. His classic black suit makes you go back and remember about the Reaping ceremony. How happy that day initiated, and how bad it turned out.
âCoriolanus.â You greet him, he can see a tiny smile on your face.
âYou were amazing. As usual, of courseâ
âThank you. And for the flowers, they were gorgeous. As usual, of courseâ heâs so surprised that you were talking to him with some humor sense. Both of you laugh and it feels⌠warm, and natural.
âItâs nothing. But.. perhaps we could just sit together at dinner?â Your cheeks warmth. You think about your confusing feelings, what your father and Clemensia respectively said. Sitting with him once wouldnât be the end of the world.
âYeah, we could.â He smiles, and even when his hair changed, his deeper voice. For some seconds you can see the boy you once loved.
And he almost feels like he was seventeen again. Watching you dance backstage, ready to greet you with a kiss. He sees the girl who helped him so much. And he just know all the horrible things heâd done were worth it.
âI-âŚâ but his words stay lingering in the air. Both of you hear a female scream. Coriolanus and you exchange looks before starting to walk where the sound was heard. In the corridor of the dressing rooms you see a woman lingering to an open door. Immediately you recognize itâs Janâs room. You quickly make it there, through the pain of your caged foot inside the pointe shoe. Coriolanus goes behind you, already sensing the scene inside.
He hears you gasp in shock, covering your mouth and tears forming on your eyes.
You are in shock, you sob, unable to blink.
Jan is on the floor, pale and blood on his mouth. Heâs dead.
And as much as the scene shocks you, you are trained to entertain the Capitol, so you turn to them random woman.
âGo and find Millie. Tell her about this and do keep your mouth shut. Nobody can know beside my parents. Understood?â You indicate the woman with a broken voice. She nods in horror dissapearing through the corridor. When she leaves you can finally cry.
When you donât know what else to do, you are holding onto Coriolanus Snow. You find comfort on his chest. And he immediately holds you back.
As much as you hate to admit it, you feel you are home in his arms.
With one hand, he closes the door of the dressing room and returns to completely be there to hug you. He smiles, knowing heâs already slowly winning.
Because when your parents find out what happened, they make you put a cute black and green velvet gown with crystals. They make you pretend nothing happened and you sit with Coriolanus and Tigris. Ignoring the upcoming rumors, and certainly not respecting the sudden death of Jan.
âŚ
Two days later, Coriolanus finds you seating on a bench. You are eating a sandwich, looking lost. He takes a seat beside you.
âIâm sorry about Jan. It happened so suddenlyâ he doesnât feel sorry. Opposite of what he felt about Sejanus and Lucy Gray. However, he firmly believes it was the only way.
âHe was a wonderful man. A devoted dancer, with principales. He had a wife in District 3.â Coriolanus coughs. He wasnât expecting that. That little detail wasnât on his research. Something twisted inside him, but he still didnât regret or felt sorry.
âHe didnât seem the type to use narcoticsâŚhe mustâve been very stressed outâ you add. Oblivious that you are talking with Janâs murderer.
âAre you sure you are okay?â You roll your eyes sighing.
âNo. Iâm not okay, Coriolanus. Not since that cursed Reaping ceremony dayâ
âIâm just trying to be here for youâ he admits, and itâs your breaking point.
âWHY DO YOU CARE NOW? YOU FAILED ME WHEN I MOST NEEDED YOU!â He looks around to see if anyone was around. But the place is empty.
âI know I committed many errors but-â
âBUT NOTHING, CORIOLANUS.â You spit out with such anger, that makes him frown.
âYou violated the trust, loyalty, respect and love we had for each other. You dissapear after making me have a damn breakdown. Only to go after that girl. And now you appear trying to mend things?â You wonât tell him about his denied petition and what you did. You just want to share all you couldnât before at his face.
âDo you know how many doctor appointments Iâve had since you left?â He looks down.
âTwelve. And I have to swallow four different pills every day. Only to stay sane. And whoâs fault it is? The hunger games, the galas, dancing, Lucy Gray Baird. But specially, youâ when he looks up at you again, you are crying.
âIf you really want to be here for me, you need to stay away and leave me alone.â You finall state, looking at his blue eyes one last time, before standing from the bench and walking away.
That wasnât your day. Neither the following ones. Your pointe shoes died and your size was out of stock. The food took such a long time. Your parents left to have an audience in District 1 and your evening was to listen to music and cry.
But certainly what broke you once again was a phone call.
âHello?â You answer.
âY/n?â
âTigris?â You ask. Her voice sounding worried.
âYes, itâs me.â
âIs everything okay? You sound alarmed, dearâ you are able to hear her sighing.
âItâs Grandmaâam. Sheâs sick. Coriolanus is busy at the Univeristy and the doctor I requested hasnât appearedâ your heart beats faster.
âShe has a strong fever and itâs been like that for hours.â She adds, finally sounding more worried.
âTigris, calm down. Iâll call my cousin, heâs one of the most prepared doctors around. Iâm going there with you in the meantimeâ you reassure her, already taking off your nightgown and taking out a dress and coat from your closet.
âThank you, y/n. I truly appreciate this, thank you.â You hang up after saying everything was going to be okay.
âŚ
You see how changed is the penthouse. Fully renovated, with bright lights that contrasted the dark blue wallpapers. But you find interesting how the olive paint you brought is still there. And your portrait from the day of your eighteen birthday is still with the family pictures.
You wait outside the room of the elder woman, as your cousin is checking Grandmaâam. You have to hold the urge from biting your nails. A maid offers you posca, but you canât think about drinking at the time.
The front doors opens and seconds later, Coriolanus is there. He seems surprised to see you there. Since the day of your argument, he hadnât see you. He tried calling you but your butler said you were out for the weekend to your grandparents house.
âY/n?â He asks, dropping his coat on a chair.
âTigris called me. She wanted a doctor for your grandmotherâ he worried a bit.
âIs she not feeling better. When I left she seemed betterâŚâ he says hurrying to go to her room, but you stop him, grabbing by his forearm.
âDonât. My cousin is already there with her. Iâm waiting for the resultsâ Coriolanus only stares at you. He wants to smile. You came only to help his family once again.
âYou look very lovelyâ you smirk, looking at his window with your arms crossed.
âReally? Your grandmother is sick and you are here saying how lovely I look today?â He smiles.
âYou told me to wait. What else can I do?â
âHow cynical of youâ you respond coldly. After all you told him, he was acting like it never happened.
The door of the room opened and Tigris came out with your cousin.
He revealed Grandmaâam was having a little difficulties in her lungs, which made her prone to catch a flu. He gave her some strong medicines and promised it would be fine with some days of resting.
After some minutes, you are also ready to leave.
You say good night to the Snow cousins and leave.
âY/n. WaitâŚâ Tigris comes out. Stopping you some feet away of the now working elevator.
âI-⌠Thank you.â She slowly says hugging you.
âItâs nothing, Tigris. I told Coriolanus once I would always help the people I loveâ Tigris suddenly feels so sad to hear you say that. She really hoped you and her little cousin had a different ending.
âHe still loves you so much.â You fight harder against the tears when she says that.
âI know. And I still love him too. But⌠he never apologized. And Iâm not ready to let go my resentment towards him.â You admit looking away.
âAlthough things didât work out for you and Coriolanus, I really appreciate and care for you, y/nâ se almost whispers in your ear. And your eyes water.
âI feel the same, Tigris. I really doâ you reply slowly, controlling your voice to not sound cracked.
âIâll come back in some daysâ she nods.
She lets you go and you finally head out. Not noticing that Coriolanus heard everything.
He never apologized.
That night, you are reading on the living room when your butler walks in.
âCoriolanus Snow is asking for you in the telephoneâ you thank him, walking bare feet towards the kitchen telephone.
âYes, Mr. Snow?â You ask.
âI just wanted to thank you for coming today. You didnât have to and yet you appeared hereâ you sigh.
âWhatever that happened between us has nothing to do with my relationship with Tigris and your motherâ now he sighs, from his office, in complete darkness.
âAbout that y/nâŚâ your hands go numb, and panic floods you.
âYou donât know how much Iâm-â
âI know.â You interrupt him, cracked voice and you hang up.
âSorryâ he says through the dead line.
That night, you read his letters. The ones he sent when he was a peacekeeper at the 12. Where he seemed to have projected his more vulnerable and emotional side of his heart. Maybe he had been drunk, maybe Lucy Gray wrote them for him. Youâd never know, and you preferred to ignore the idea of him actually feeling sorry.
âŚ
A week later youâre applauding for Grandmaâam as she sings for you. You smile, changing her pillow case and complementing how much of a sweet voice she had.
Itâs getting late, and you must return to your house.
After wishing Grandmaâam sweet dreams, you carefully close her door and you walk with the old pillow case away.
âAre you staying for dinner?â Tigris asks with a sweet smile, taking the pillow case from you. Coriolanus is seated, drinking something as he carefully looks at you. You ignore him.
âI must decline, dear. I have to go back and pack some thingsâ she frowns, stopping to put some plates on the dinning table.
âPack?â
âYes. I think Iâll spend the holidays at District 1. My mother is opening a new studio and sheâs going to need help. And well, if everything goes right, I might even stay thereâ Tigris almost drops the pillow case. And Coriolanus almost chokes on his drink.
âWhat? Why?. What about university? The galas? Your production job for the hunger gamesâ you shrug with an honest smile.
âLately the Capitol life has... it has been a burden. I want to live a peaceful life. I want to healâ Tigris sends daggers with her eyes to Coriolanus. He coughs, uncomfortable.
âCORIOLANUS!â Grandmaâam calls the man, you only sigh. And slowly, he stands up to to the woman. He hears you keep talking with Tigris. And he wants to do something to stop you from leaving. Now he can give you the life he couldnât before.
âIs everything alright, Grandmaâam?â The elder woman looks at him from her bed.
âAre you really letting that young woman to walk away again?â Coriolanus frowns.
âWhat?â
âYouâve heard me.â Even in her sick days, she was firm.
âShe doesnât want anything to do with me anymoreâ Grandmaâam shrugs.
âI donât think so. Her eyes shine sadly at every mention of you. She was part of the family after all.â Coriolanus remains quiet. But he admits to himself thatâs what he missed the most.
âI think she always waited for an apology. One that never came.â His heart pounds very fast. He tried, and you hung up.
âWhat do you suggest me to do?â Grandmaâam smiles, coughing tiredly.
âYou run to wherever she goes and beg on your knees. One time you show her vulnerability and youâll never do it again. We, women, only want real love, stupid love. You show her that stupid love once and you can silently do it for the rest of your againâ
âYou already won the money and respect. Youâre just missing out the girlâ Coriolanus sweats, but when he turns to look at her grandmother again, she nods, reassuring him.
âGo. Get her back, Coriolanusâ without saying anything back, he leaves.
When he enters the dinning room, he only sees two plates of food. He looks at Tigris confused.
âWhereâs y/n?â She shrugs, taking a seat.
âShe just left.â
Coriolanus runs. He actually runs out of his penthouse and when the elevator starts taking to much time, he decided to choose the stairs as his getaway. He feels sweaty and agitated, but as he goes down, he canât help but feel slightly happy, the adrenaline of making it on time make him hurry.
âY/N!â He yells your name once he makes it to the lobby, where he can see you turning back to see him.
You are waiting for Trevor when he appears running towards you.
And before you can even blink or breathe, he gets on his knees.
âCoriolanus Snow. What are you doing?â You ask confused and blushed.
âIâm sorry.â He says.
âIâm sorry about all the stupid things I did. Iâm sorry about letting you down. Iâm sorry for ruining our relationship. For letting you in that hospital bed and return to do everyhting but apologize to youâ you look at him perplexed, not believing his words.
âI canât lose you again. Because I know youâre the last and only person Iâll love. I wonât trust anyone else. And nobody would have ever looked down at me like you did when I had nothingâ you sigh, feeling the tears coming again. You know heâs not lying. You knew him so well that you sense it.
âIf you let me. To give me another chance, Iâll do things right. I will never fail you again in life. Youâll be the only person Iâll cherish and show love.â He offers you his hand, and he looks very suppliant.
You blink quickly to soothe the tears. And you know he doesnt deserve you. But arenât the best person, so maybe you two were actually meant to be together.and thatâs the only viable reason to why you want to let your heart freely beat for him again.
âPlease donât go, y/nâ he whispers, waiting for your answer. You sigh, slowly and shaking, but you end up taking his hand.
âYouâll better be the most perfect lover of the history of Panem, thenâ he wraps your fingers together, and stands up.
âI promise, I swearâ he knows the memory of Lucy Gray would always follow him. As well of all the deaths he had caused. But nothing compared to the joy of him kissing you again.
Your lips welcome him in the most sweet way. And he finds himself smiling through the kiss, gently holding you closer to him.
Itâs in the start of the Road of Hope in the Capitol where Coriolanus Snow had his fully owned penthouse. Where he had nothing, and now had won everything.
âŚ
Time flies, things had changed, probably for the better. You made Coriolanus keep fighting for a good and healthy relationship. Slowly, he made you completely fall in love again. And although there was certain spark missing, you knew it would never come back. However, you had also accepted that both of you had grown up.
The late talks were mature now. Talking about the future of Panem, planning dinners together. The kisses were more passionate, unlike the softness that was all over your early relationship. The sex was harder rather than slow and sweet like the beginning. Coriolanus would like to leave many hickeys scattered across your body, make a wet mess of saliva and fluids. He loved feelings your almond nails leave gentle scratches across his pale back.
But certainly, the biggest change was the way you two were handling a life together.
After turning twenty, you got married. Soon Coriolanus bought the house he always wished to give you. The one with black and white tiles floor, beige walls and big stairs.
By the first week in, he had done many refurbishments and he had fucked you in every room, every corner and every surface of the house.
Till the day you turned twenty-two. By that time, you had almost ditched your dancing career. Sometimes you still had some chances to perform on galas. But Coriolanus convinced you to focus on public services and the production of the hunger games. Dr. Gaul had officially retired, and it was going to be the first year of Coriolanus as a game maker. Things had really changed.
But everything seemed fine.
âDear, Are you ready?â You turn to look at your husband, who waits on the frame of the door.
âJust one momentâ you run to slip into your silver heels before grabbing your purse.
Trevor kept his job as your chauffeur and Millie was now your private secretary. Sometimes you hated how formal your life had become. Especially now that Coriolanus had some plans in mind.
As soon as you arrive to the fancy patio from a million-dollar man house, many women eye you and Coriolanus.
âRemind me what are we doing here?â You ask him. He holds your hand tightly, smiling at many of the invited people.
âIâm assuming the role of game maker. You are giving a speech about the improvements for the 14th Hunger Games, my dearâ you nod, clutching onto his cold hand harder. Both of you were kind of the sensation around the Capitol. You know how they whisper about your dress and your husbandâs physic.
âYouâre going to be fine. You always choose the right words. And your voice can charm anyone hereâ he whispers on your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.
âThank goddess Iâve been studying the constitution. Or else these men would bury meâ Coriolanus laughs. Soon you enter the actual event. With long white tables, candles and everyone dressed either on red or black.
âMen around here donât know how smart my wife isâ he says shrugging, remembering how many honors you received from university. Some of the wives ask you to join them. You wave hello to them before leaning to your man.
âDo not make me jealous or leave me alone during the speech.â You firmly say to him.
âOf course not, my loveâ
âLove you.â And with one last kiss, you walk away.
For the rest of the night. You feel uneasy. Because you succeeded with the speech. But once you read the part from Coriolanus, you are at the verge of babbling.
He shared some of his initial proposals for the games. Like lowering the age of the tributes, increasing the obstacles in the arena, using more mutts, allowing weapons, and making the interviews with Lucky Flickerman longer.
It had been a long time since you think about the games so much. But that guilt you felt after seeing Coriolanus as mentor, never left. And after that dinner, everyone claps for your husband and you, after being considered as the couple of the next generation for Panem.
In the privacy of your new home, you constantly zone out to think about it. You canât ask Coriolanus to stop the games, but he could make some changes.
You knock swiftly on his door.
âCome in.â You walk in and he drops the papers he was signing to smile at the sight of you.
âHello, you.â he says cheekily.
âHello, youâ.â You reply. He indicates you to seat on his lap and you do so. His arms lock around you, hands resting on your back.
âAre you coming to bed anytime soon?â You ask.
âI just need to sign some things, darlingâ he watches you frown, and he wonât say you look older, because you donât. But you certainly look wiser, mature and more like a woman rather than a girl.
âIâve been thinking about the gamesâ Heâs all ears now. He knows you had some specific opinions. You had said in your first interview how brutal the games were.
âWhat about them?â
âI would never ask you to stop the games. ButâŚâ you stop, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
âBut what, my dear?â
âDonât you think those tributes are humans? Yes, the Districts deserve to be reminded of the consequences of their acts. But most of the tributes are kids. Who donât even understand everything that conveys a war.â Coriolanus sighs, trying to choose the correct words to answer you.
âWhat are you suggesting?â He tries to sound calm, but the mere subject makes him a little irritated.
âI donât know⌠Maybe giving them more opportunities?â He giggles, caressing the skin on your hips.
âGiving them opportunities means going soft on them. And going soft on them could trigger a new rebellionâ this time you sigh, trying to persuade him by brushing his hair, softly grasping his chin.
âNot like that, Coryo. I mean⌠raising the majority age of the tributes. Giving them at least the chance to train. To eat a proper meal on the last night. To show who they are one last time before theyâre sent to dieâ Coriolanus would always believe that youâre only one weakness was your humanity. How you always turned to see down on others, feeling guilty from being born with all the commodities.
So, he tries to ignore it. He tries to see your suggestions as a way to punish the tributes harder. Give them everything to then killing them.
So, he smiles, urging you to kiss him. You reply immediately, holding him closer to feel the heated proximity.
âI could arrange some changes. Would that make you feel better?â You nod on his lips, smiling.
âNow let me finish this before meeting you in bed. And I expect you have this thing off before I get thereâ he says grabbing your nightgown. You laugh with a potent blush, gently pushing him away.
âDonât be silly.â
âIâm not being silly. In two days, we start the tour, we will be very tired to make love daily as we do nowâ you roll your eyes, almost running away ad your husband laughs, making fun of your embarrassment.
âThis is madness. Iâm going to bedâ you say getting out of his office.
âDonât forget about what I said!â He yells, making you smile in love as you leave upstairs, wishing good night to the maids and butler. For the record, you do not forget about your husbandâs petition.
âŚ
The best part of the house is the rooftop in your opinion. A terrace with cristal walls and ceilings that had a gorgeous view of the Capitol. A view that included some monuments and the snowy mountains surrounding the city.
You had a little bar there, an eccentric dining table and some couches with colorful cushions.
Grandmaâam made you take some of his roses so you could start your own garden. That brought tears to your eyes. But now, it was only you and Tigris there.
You asked the chef to make some vegetables and creams as your sister-in-law arrived for dinner. Coriolanus and you were set to leave the next morning for his political campaign tour.
âHave you packed everything?â Tigris asks.
âYes. I wish I could take Trevor with me. But only Millie will be able to comeâ you say smiling. Tigris notices how you constantly look at the door, hoping to see Coriolanus entering.
âHave you told him?â You shake your head at the woman.
âNot yet. Probably by the time we arrive District 4. We have good memories from thereâ Tigris smiles. She was really excited when you got back together with Coriolanus. She even made your wedding dress. And now she was so proud of the career you two were making.
âSorry for the delay. I was arguing with some incompetent who cancelled the delivery of our new chandeliersâ Tigris rolls her eyes as your husband cheekily smiles.
âDinner isnât ready yet, anywaysâ you say patting his back as he takes a seat beside you.
âYou shouldnât be stressing over the tour. Your dear wife mustâve prepared the most wonderful speeches for you to sayâ Coriolanus smiles, turning to give you a peck on the nose, making you laugh.
âItâs not that, Tigris. Itâs the time thatâs freaking me out. I donât want to be gone for almost two months.â You sigh, trying to keep everything together. You just pray that the tour goes smoothly.
âEach district will host you with all commoditiesâ itâs a lie. Coriolanus isnât ready to go to District 12 again. Where his father died, where he committed the worst decisions of his early life. He knows those days will be a little sour. But heâs willing to play pretend very well for you.
âItâs going to be fine. Pardon me, dearâ Coriolanus says after seeing your face of over thinking. His wife is so smart that sheâs probably wondering the same as him. And thatâs the least he needs of.
You take his hand, before hearing the food has arrived. The air changes, the dinner flows happily as you talk and gossip with Tigris and your husband. Itâs a great dinner actually.
Maybe he broke your heart when you were teenagers. But you delayed his political campaign for four years. Maybe he had looked too much at Lucy Gray Baird, but at the end it would only be you.
You couldâve done better to get rid of that guilt for participating in the hunger games, but you just realize that maybe you didnât because you are not a good person either.
Even so, every morning, you wake up in his arms as he fulfilled his promise of never failing you again.
You just hope that the tour, the upcoming games and everything else doesnât get into your way. Nothing can be a recoil. Not when Coriolanus Snowâs first child rests peacefully in your womb.
The future was uncertain. But your past and present along him always seemed like⌠a hatred road.
_____________________________________________
fyi, in my head, if reader hadnât delayed Coriolanus political emergence, the second rebellion wouldâve started earlier and probably it wouldnât have been successful. (Basically it wouldâve been like a second time âdark daysâ situation and then back to reconstruction again)
Taglist: @dear-bunnyboo @daydreamerprocrastinator @lecrercsgirlshhs @athanasia-day @devils-blackrose @reader-bookling123 @cookielovesbook-akie @justacaliforniandreamer @m1ndbrand @blairfox04 @darktrashsoulbear @fartybobabutt @diannana @iwantosleep @sarysuniverse @unclecrunkle @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @didneyworld13 @imguce @angelscrime @impeterporker @lem122 @cryaka @ietss @michelleisheres-blog @capsiclesworldsblog @circe143
#coriolanus snow x reader#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#corio snow#coriolanus snow#tbosas
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it's my birthday today so here's a short Jason x Reader drabble!
warnings: just pure fluff ! + A bit suggestive at the end, but nothing happens (rare no angst)
wc: 1k
Jason's broken into your apartment again, it's pretty much a routine at this point. Though he wouldn't call it breaking in if he was your boyfriend who had keys to your place but couldn't walk through the door like a normal human being. He disarmed and set up again every security measure he installed himself to keep you safe. Took his time to check that you locked everything too, all while you slept peacefully in your room. And just when he was sure everything was up and running and you'd be safe he made his way to the bedroom.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw you. You looked so cute sleeping on your side, taking all the covers and your hair a mess. He just felt an overwhelming need to kiss you senseles, so he left the bouquet of flowers on your nightstand. He rapidly removed his mask to leave it on his bedside table, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. He made quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off so he could hop on the bed with you.
"Baby," He whispered, pulling down the sheets and lifting your shirt so he could kiss your hips. His kisses trailed up on your side until you hummed and shifted in your sleep, now lying on your back, unaware of the presence of your boyfriend.
He whispered your name before he started kissing your stomach. By the time his kisses had gone up to your neck, he started to wonder just how deep you were sleeping.
"Jay?" You finally wake up, barely aware of anything but the figure above you.
"What if it was an intruder?" He teases."You're a pretty deep sleeper, ma"
"Who else would it be? you got me living in the bat cave with how tight the security is. " Even half asleep, you had a quick wit. It made him chuckle and kiss your cheek.
"Happy Birthday, baby"
It made you check the time on your phone, 5 am. Only him would come back from his vigilante activities and wake you up at 5 am on your birthday. Lucky you had the day off so you could sleep in a little more. In the process of grabbing your phone to check the time you noticed the flowers, your favorite ones, and impossible to get this time of the year.
"Those are for me?"
"Not really, some old lady gave them to me so I could ask her niece out," He joked, gaining a swift slap from the back of your hand to his bicep. It did nothing but make him laugh, and you realized just then that he still was in his red hood gear. Even when you've told him a million times not to get in the bed wearing it. "'Course they are, the best for my favorite birthday girl "
"Take your clothes off," You demanded, the sleep still in your mind made you not realize how that sounded. He opened his mouth to make some snarky comment, so you cut him off before he begins "You know what I mean"
He chuckled again, kissing the tip of your nose before getting up to undress. You rubbed your eyes as you sat on the bed, then took the flowers to get a closer look. It was a beautiful bouquet, a mix of colors and flowers that matched your favorites, so unlike your basic red roses. It showed how much he knew you, how sweet of a boyfriend he could be.
"Where did you even get these?" You asked, smelling them. You noticed how fresh they were, how bright the colors were. They didn't look like a usual purchase from a Gotham flower shop, much less this late-or early.
"Ah,I was hoping you wouldn't ask that." He sighed as you watched him toss his shirt somewhere on the floor. He tried crawling back on the bed and kissing you to distract you, but you knew better than that.
"I don't trust the pockets of that," You complained, talking about his cargo pants, moving your head to the side so his lips fall on your cheek. "and careful with the flowers "
"Yes ma'am," He replied in a solemn tone, just to mock you. Then, as you watched him strip to his underwear, holding the huge bouquet like a baby, it hit you.
"Jason Peter Todd, did you get these from Poison Ivy?"
Jason freezed, of course he did. His reaction gave you all the answers you needed. You were ready to hit him with the very same flowers. How could he put himself in so much danger for such a ridiculous thing?
"In my defense,"He began, and you were already having none of it. He was lucky he made it out in one piece. "She said you're the best hostage she ever had, and she's a romantic deep down"
"Jason," You sighed. The way you said his name had him smiling again, knowing all too well, he was about to be forgiven.
"And before you kill me, " He sat down next to you, a hand resting on your thigh. "I've got the whole day planned for ya', ma"
You left the flowers on your nightstand again, and turned your face to see him before asking;"Did she make the bouquet?"
"I'm appalled, 'course not." He gasped offended, "I had a vision"
"Really?" You smiled, straddling him.
He nodded, smirking and putting his hands on a familiar place on your waist. His lips and your finally met in a kiss that's more smiles than actual kissing. He knew he was lucky to have you and that he had to treat you right, there was no other option for him. If you asked for the moon and stars he'd find the way to give them to you. Jason was sure he could face whatever fate threw his way as long as he had you on his side. But he couldn't find the words to tell you that and settled for the next best thing; kissing you desperately.
"Shouldn't we put those on water?" He questioned, out of breath.
"Later, I've gotta fuck my handsome boyfriend " And with that you had him melting under your hands, the mighty and scary Red Hood reduced to a blushing mess by his favorite birthday girl.
a/n: If I feel inspired, I'll write about how reader knows Poison Ivy, but until then, happy birthday to me đĽł. Btw if this has any mistakes, ignore them. My sister is holding my laptop hostage and I'm back in my hometown.
#omg ria not adding angst to her writing make a wish!!!!#w: jason#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd x reader fluff#red hood x reader
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aaaaaanyways. pride month at Camp Half Blood?
if you remember that one post from a while ago (general hcâs about chb), I did say I would do a fully pride post eventually
so without further ado, I present to all my lovely gay demigods:
PRIDE MONTH AT CHBđŁď¸đŁď¸
SO weâve already discussed the decorations of some of the cabins, like Percy putting rainbow hippocampi scales all over the walls, the Demeter and Persephone cabins growing colorful flowers all over their roofs, the Hecate cabin and its Sentient Gay Door
I like to think the Iris cabin is just fully blasting rainbows all the time it looks like a Minecraft beacon
they play capture the flag every June with a pride flag that has the CHB logo on it
limited edition CHB pride merchđ
Mr. D defending trans campers by driving bigots slightly insane long enough to slap themselves and then go back to normal
YâALL KNOW ABOUT THE PRONOUN CORRECTION AIR HORNS? THATâS THE ENTIRE APOLLO CABIN + LEO AND PERCY
Some ignorant prick about a transmasc camper: âOh yeah sheââ
Percy: *AIR HORN* âITâS HE, BITCHâ
Ignorant prick: âOkay Jesus Iâm sorryâ
A different ignorant prick: *makes some dumb joke about âalways being able to tellâ and receives at least seven different air horns from all the Apollo campers in the vicinity*
Leoâs been following this one really irritating chick around all day because she canât figure out one of his siblingâs genders and blasting her in the face every time she fucks up their pronounsđđđ
anyways yeah I like to imagine thereâs a demigod pride festival somewhere, maybe in New York
or no thereâs demigods everywhere I bet they have parade floats all the time in lots of cities and the Mist conceals the âfireworksâ which are actually just godly light shows
Apollo rocks up to camp in a rainbow crop top and a pink drink from Starbucks just to sing Born This Way in the middle of the day and then dip again
Aphrodite blessing random queer couples with finding perfect date setups âconvenientlyâ in their paths
all the gods physically restraining Hera when she tries to go fuck with Jason while heâs on a date w Leo
Percy and Annabeth in matching shirts that say â¨BEST BI⨠with the Best Buy price tag logo in the middle
Nico got glitterbombed on June 1st the second he stepped out of his cabin by the entire Apollo cabin (and Jason) and is still finding sparkles in his hair a week later
Aphrodite kids are walking dictionaries of all the rainbow terms, somehow, and they also all know which days in June are for which awareness or pride or whatever flag
campers who transitioned over the school year and coming back to camp a different gender and their godly parent re-claims them as their true self
Percy âI canât believe I used to think I was straightâ Jackson educating some of the younger campers on bisexuality and how, no, you donât always know right away
Annabeth âI had a crush on Thalia and Luke at the same time and it was horribleâ Chase always reassuring the nervous kids that thereâs nothing wrong with being queer (and that sheâll fight any homophobic family members they may have)
actually they kind of all do that
Some little kid: âWellâŚâŚ. I donât wanna tell my stepdad, he might kick me outâ
Percy, remembering that his dad kept Medusaâs head after it got sent to Olympus: âGive me your address, I have an ideaâ
Piper will verbally eviscerate anybody she catches being even remotely homophobic. I mean she will swipe phones out of her siblingsâ hands to tell off some ignorant grandmother
Jason does NOT get into physical altercations outside of sparring and literal war, but the closest he ever got was after hearing someone call Nico a slur (Percy and Leo had to physically drag him away from the other guy)
William Solace has white cowboy boots. I Will Start Sobbing On The Spot
Percy and Jason wore matching skirts for the pride festival and it was greatâ these 6-foot-plus brick shithouses of heroes who have single-handedly won wars aggressively waving tiny pride flags at each other and dancing to IT GIRL on the quad
Cecil and Lou Ellen made these magic rainbow smoke bombs, crawled up on the roof of the Hermes cabin, and slingshotted them into the masses Just Becauseâ˘ď¸
(Willâs hair was blue and pink for weeks)
RAINBOW WAR PAINT FOR CAPTURE THE FLAG.
Clarisse fucking kicked someone into the lake because they made fun of one of her siblingsâ dyed hair
Connor thought it would be funny to leave a mini pan flag on top of Mr. Dâs Diet Coke stash, mostly as a harmless joke, but the next day he noticed Mr. D had tucked it into his horrible Hawaiian shirt pocket like a handkerchiefđ
watching Love, Simon in the amphitheater for movie night and half the campers had to excuse themselves early for sobbing too hard
Malcolm and Annabeth reread Red White and Royal Blue every summer. They say theyâre Henry and June, Connor is Alex, and Percy is Nora
(this is confirmed when the two of them start a foot fight in the dining pavilion with a Chipotle burrito)
Leo IMing Jo and Emmie to wish them a happy pride (and tell Georgina and Waystation I said hello)
Piper and Leo getting into a HEATED debate about whether Velma Dinkley is a lesbian or not
âYOU CANNOT LOOK AT HER OVERSIZED-SWEATER-OVER-MY-PROM-DRESS ASS AND TELL ME YOU THINK SHEâS TOTALLY STRAIGHTââ
âWHAT SHE AND SHAGGY HAD WAS REAL, BEAUTY QUEEN! HOT DOG WATER AINâT GOT NOTHIN ON NORVILLE ROGERSââ
âLEO! HER NAME IS MARCIE! AND THEY ARE EACH OTHERâS W A L L P A P E R S .â
Jason, sitting in the middle of them, now deaf in both ears: Lupa give me strength
GUYS PLEASE SEND ME SPECIFIC SHIPS OR CHARACTERS TO WRITE PRIDE HCâS FOR I WOULD LOVE TOđđđđ
#riordanverse#pjo#chb#camp half blood#percy jackson#leo valdez#toa#pride#jason grace#valgrace#annabeth chase#percabeth#nico di angelo#piper mclean#solangelo#cecil markowitz#lou ellen blackstone#clarisse la rue#connor stoll#malconnor
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đđ đđđ đđđđ đđ đđđđ đ đđđđ, đđđđđđđđđ?
đđđđđđđ: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader đđđđđ: âhorrorâ, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au đđđđđđđ: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again. Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. đđđđđđđđ: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (sheâs awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, âfearâ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but iâll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh itâs more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n đđ: 10.662k đ/đ: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and Iâm happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldnât have made sense anymore, so heâs whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesnât appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask đ enjoy and happy halloween
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đđ đđđ đđđđđ đđđ đđđđđđđ.
Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.
Itâs clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask.Â
Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. Itâs like heâs only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, youâve learned to trust nobody.Â
And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro.Â
The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside.Â
When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows donât allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure itâs empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens. Â
Itâs late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver.Â
You shouldâve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You shouldâve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever.Â
Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that youâre walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesnât feel right, your guts are telling you something but you donât listen, you canât walk away now that youâre so close.
Thereâs not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasnât for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, thereâs a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didnât go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him.Â
Whatâs on the other side is worse.Â
âWhat the fuckâŚâ you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. Youâre not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didnât make much sense. âHeâs a fucking psycho,â you scoff as you take another picture.Â
âSurpriiise!!âÂ
Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting.Â
âBoo, fail,â Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. âYouâre really not as smart as I thought you were, donât you know intruding on someone elseâs property is illegal?â he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck.Â
You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to donât look scared for your life. You might die today, but you wonât give him that satisfaction.Â
âDonât look so frightened, my dear. Iâm quite happy to have you all to myself,â he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. âI wouldnât act too careless, itâs sharp.âÂ
You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. âDo you want to play a game, Ghostface?â You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like itâs blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh.Â
âOh, thatâs not how it works, detective. Thatâs my line. You didnât study the script?âÂ
You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. âWeâre switching roles. Do you want to play a game? Itâs called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.âÂ
He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. Heâs had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. âNow you want to act like you donât love the chase?âÂ
âFuck you, I donât love it,â you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt.Â
He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver â in fear or excitement, youâll let this decide to your better judgment. âI know you do,â he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. âEnjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, thatâs why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you donât understand me,â his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. âI was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.â
Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you canât lose your composure. âSo, what are you going to do, kill me?â Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle.Â
âTalking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh⌠are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.âÂ
You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. âNo, please donât kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,â you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed.Â
âBitch,â he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. âWe were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.âÂ
Youâre waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms donât lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin.Â
The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair youâre now sitting on.Â
âSorry, I had to tie you up, but youâre a bit feisty today. Didnât want you to get hurt,â Ghostface replies to your silent questions â not so silent, considering how loud youâre groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. Heâs standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up.Â
âYou canât even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?â You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead.Â
But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. âDrink.âÂ
You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you canât see him, not even because you want to find out whoâs hiding under there, but also because you feel like you canât confront him well enough. âYou think Iâm so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?â
His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. âYou know thatâs not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,â he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You canât see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesnât give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. âOops, it spilled all over, youâre so messy, detective,â he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didnât do it on purpose.Â
âAsshole,â you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, âOh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.âÂ
You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. âYou wonât,â you say firmly. âYouâve never had someone quite as fun as me.âÂ
A low laughter escapes from the mask. âSo, you are at least a bit smart?â His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens.Â
âDonât play games now. Donât fake it,â he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. âYou enjoyed our last conversation,â he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. âHad shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, havenât you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. Thatâs what they say, thatâs what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,â he laughs deeply. âAnd then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.âÂ
âYouâre a psycho,â you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you arenât much different.Â
He chuckles darkly. âOh, I am, never denied that. But donât act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?â He snickers. âYou have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but Iâm not one to judge. Iâd gladly help.âÂ
You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, âIf you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.âÂ
âWow, wow, darling. Not so soon, Iâm not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?âÂ
You inhale sharply, and spit on him, âGod, youâre insane.â Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like itâs coming out like a beast thatâs been trapped too long. Â
âDonât be so scared,â he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, youâre enjoying this more than you should, youâre enjoying this entire chase more than you should. Itâs like a game, but itâs not when real people are dying. âI would never hurt you,â his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask heâs wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. âI hope you didnât like this shirt too much, detective.âÂ
You donât have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesnât happen.Â
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. âYou truly donât trust me. Iâm offended, and I donât like when people offend me. Just like I donât like when they hang up the phone while weâre playing. If people were respectful, I wouldnât have to kill them, you know?â You stare at him with a furrow on your face, youâd like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out whoâs hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be.Â
âLet me go,â you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure youâre applying against the ropes.
âDonât struggle too much, it turns me on,â he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks itâs a pity you canât see it, youâre just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but itâs all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy. Â
âWhy?âÂ
âWhy? Itâs funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you donât,â the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour.Â
âSo, youâre just going to keep me here?âÂ
âNo, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?âÂ
Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat.Â
You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. ââCause if I said no you would stop?âÂ
âHey, Iâm a killer, not a rapist,â he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still donât reply, and he doesnât like that. âSo? Iâm not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so donât test me.âÂ
You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, itâs your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, youâre seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that youâre only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know youâre feeling something else. Attraction.Â
âI said,â he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, âdo you want to play a game, detective?âÂ
âYes, yes, I do,â you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away.Â
âGood, I love playing with you.â His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. âLift your hips for me, love?â
You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. âWhat? If Iâm rough with you, you get mad, if Iâm sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?âÂ
You huff, deciding itâs better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you canât even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought.Â
âPretty panties just for me?â He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. âWere you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?âÂ
âShut up, this is not for you,â you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow.Â
âAnd who is it for?â He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. âOh, no, please donât tell me thereâs a boyfriend Iâm not aware of. Iâd hate to kill him.âÂ
You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit âwhere you can feel youâre starting to get wetâ to your sensitive nub. âItâs not for you,â you repeat, trying to donât show how much his touch is affecting you.Â
âWell, you want me to work so hard too, Iâll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with whatâs mine,â he replays nonchalantly. âI know where to find you, maybe Iâll come visit again.âÂ
âYou talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,â you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips.Â
âSorry, I didnât know my princess was so eager,â he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. âWant my fingers?â
The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isnât this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself?Â
He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. âDo we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?âÂ
âYes,â you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. âWhat are you doing?â You ask when his covered fingers press against you again.Â
âOh, youâll get the gloves too, Iâm not dumb, you know? Donât leave fingerprints on dead bodies, wonât even leave them on yours,â his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didnât make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department.Â
You hate him. You hate heâs so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans.Â
âAre you seriously going to pretend you donât like this while your hips are bucking up?â He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. âThink moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?âÂ
Your mouth opens to retort but you canât deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions. Â
âLook at me,â he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. âYou listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. Itâs funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.âÂ
You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. âIs this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?âÂ
His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. âPartially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you itâs the chase, and the fact I always win.âÂ
You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. âDidnât you see the movies? The villain always dies.âÂ
âIf the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,â he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. âSee, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.âÂ
You groan angrily, youâre madder at you than you are at him. You want him and itâs so wrong that you do, but thereâs not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop.Â
âNo, shh, shh, angel, itâs fine, this will be our little secret,â he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. âWe could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe Iâll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.âÂ
Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. âJust â just tell me if I know you,â you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle.Â
He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. âMhh, weâve met.â
You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought youâve seen him. âOnly met?âÂ
âWe talked,â he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again.Â
Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out whoâs hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice â even if distorted, but you canât. And suddenly realization slumps on you.
âWill it â will it break my heart?âÂ
He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, youâre looking at him like a dog when itâs being scolded, but in this case, youâre also silently praying heâs not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesnât matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. âWill it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?âÂ
Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you canât stand youâre even questioning it, of course youâll turn him in, thatâs your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and youâre not.Â
âSee? Itâs not as funny if you know me,â he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. âItâs not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.âÂ
âFuck,â you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, itâs a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again.Â
âTheyâre so perfect, I canât believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,â he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. âSorry.â
âFor what â what the fuck?â You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair.Â
âIt was getting in the way, and I donât like things that get in my way. I cut them off,â in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, youâre glad you canât see his face. Â
You gulp and automatically close your legs.Â
âNot you,â he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, âyou entertain me. And you suck at your job, so itâs clear you also donât get in the way.âÂ
âIâm good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars ââÂ
âUh, uh,â he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. âWe were having so much fun, donât ruin it, babe.â
You swallow and look down following the path heâs tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest.Â
âItâs so funny how you shake like a leaf, Iâm a professional,â he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? âBoth, love.âÂ
Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. Youâve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldnât be an open book to him, you shouldnât be so malleable in his hands, itâs pathetic and humiliating.Â
âYouâre so fucking wet. Iâm quite pissed I canât run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,â he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement. Â
âDonât you dare,â you spit out, but you donât sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after. Â
âI said Iâm not going to, I keep my promises,â he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. âMaybe if you promise you wonât shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when youâll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.âÂ
Your head rolls back, and you hiss. âYou wish,â you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. âI will never give you the satisfaction.âÂ
He laughs mockingly. âMaybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?â At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. âWhat?â He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. âYouâre fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?âÂ
âYouâre just messing with me,â you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people youâve been with is not that long, he canât be so stupid to out himself like that, right?Â
âMaybe⌠I love it when I can see you think,â he whispers. âUsually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow thereâs always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. Itâs cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me⌠well, so you think because, letâs be honest, youâre only chasing after your tail.âÂ
You canât believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it canât be.Â
âWhy are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,â he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. âYouâre very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.âÂ
âUgh,â you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but youâre close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer. Â
âItâs alright, love, I told you, I wonât judge you,â he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to donât truly show how much youâre enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. âNow, will you come for me?âÂ
He doesnât have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving.Â
You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass.Â
The thing doesnât bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in peopleâs eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. Thatâs the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? Itâs unknown. Like a Russian roulette.Â
Heâd love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows youâd have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and heâs sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down.Â
Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. âWhatâs so funny, dollface?âÂ
You shrug, wetting your lips. âYou scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?âÂ
He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. âYou want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,â he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. âIt would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isnât it nice? Couple goals.âÂ
You raise a brow at him, he doesnât even realize it, but heâs giving away so much of his personality, even if you donât find it out now, youâre pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard youâre thinking about your plan. âI only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.âÂ
He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. âMy dick.âÂ
âOh, fuck off,â you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off. Â
He hisses but doesnât do anything else. âDonât get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and weâre going to play it until the end.âÂ
When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying âkeeping them as a souvenir,â with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an âasshole.âÂ
Once again, he doesnât pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why heâs so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? âNow I will untie you, if you play any trick on meâŚÂ you know how it ends.âÂ
You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. âYou donât have to do this every time, you know?âÂ
âIt turns you on,â he retorts firmly. âAnd I need to make sure you donât do any funny business.âÂ
Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. âGet up,â he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you donât want to end up dead on the floor. âGood, now lay on the mattress.âÂ
Your face twists in disgust when youâre reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward.Â
âWe didnât kill anybody there.âÂ
You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesnât push the knife into your chest. âWe?âÂ
âOh⌠it didnât click yetâŚâ He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. âSorry, love. But hey, arenât you happy I helped you out?âÂ
You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, thatâs the only way they could always be so headed of you.Â
âNot the right moment to think about that,â he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. âGet on the bed.âÂ
You turn around again, suddenly aware that heâs completely covered and youâre bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly youâre laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while heâs giving you not even a peak of whoâs under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.
âPromise youâll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,â he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. âYou promise, detective?â He repeats with urge when you donât reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down.Â
âPromise,â you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask.Â
He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon thatâs on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly.Â
âTurn around,â he orders, but you hesitate. Thatâs too much vulnerability. Itâs clear he doesnât like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. âGod, I have to do everything with you,â he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you canât do anything even if you want to, but once again, you donât want to.Â
âFuck,â he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. âLook at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, donât try to even get a peak,â he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand whatâs going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. âNot that it was needed, youâre dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.âÂ
You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy. Â
âI want to feel you so bad,â he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, âbut will you run to the police? Will you tell them âoh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psychoâ?â he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesnât sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie.Â
You snicker. âYou underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.âÂ
âBut will you? Also, Iâm pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I wonât blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? Thatâs not very smart of you.âÂ
Heâs right, you hate that heâs right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. âI â I wonât.âÂ
Deep down he knows you wonât, thereâs no way they wonât trace it back at you too, and he also knows you wonât try to play the victim when youâre not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows youâre smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky.Â
âBetter safe than in jail,â he chuckles darkly, you donât even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip.Â
You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what youâre willingly doing. Youâre too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you.Â
You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, âNah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I donât like rude people, so donât be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.âÂ
The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. âPlease⌠please fuck me.â
âNot what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, havenât we?â He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones.Â
You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, âPlease, fuck me, Ghostface,â and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. Itâs a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, âFuck, it sounds so good from your lips.âÂ
âOh, fuck,â you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly.Â
âIs it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel canât take it?âÂ
A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. âDonât move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? âÂ
You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if thatâs the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that youâre not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person.Â
Itâs pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him. Â
âFuck, thatâs what I want to hear,â he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he canât risk it. That doesnât mean he canât leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. âHave I told you theyâre so pretty?âÂ
âMhh,â you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds.Â
âShit, you really are into pain,â he comments, thereâs mockery in his voice âlike alwaysâ but thereâs also a genuine surprise. âWho wouldâve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.âÂ
âI â Iâm not,â you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment.Â
âHoney,â he slurs, voice dipped in honey, âyouâre letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.âÂ
You shake your head quickly, but heâs had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. âI know you better than anyone else, angel,â he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. âI know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You canât lie to me,â he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, âand I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck â I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.âÂ
Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. Itâs like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you wonât be able to wash him off, and you donât even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest youâve ever done.Â
âIt makes you feel special, doesnât it? The way youâre the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.â His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. âYouâre like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.âÂ
âPlease,â you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly.Â
âWant me to stop?â He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. âDonât want to hear how special you are?âÂ
But thatâs not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess.Â
A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. Youâre so precious, he canât believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time heâs close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. Itâs exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But youâve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words.Â
âSpeak up, princess. I donât like to wait.âÂ
âPlease, wa-want to feel you,â you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto whatâs left of your sanity.Â
He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. âYou want me to fuck you raw, detective?âÂ
You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame thatâs looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesnât like your silences, he doesnât like it when you hesitate, thatâs not what turns him on about you. Itâs your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, itâs just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. âI thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. Iâll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?âÂ
You swallow your pride and reply meekly, âYe-yes.âÂ
He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air thatâs already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesnât loosen up. âSee? It wasnât that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.âÂ
You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again.Â
âIâd love to, but I wonât risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if Iâll ever feel like telling you who I am,â he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesnât give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why youâre here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin.Â
âThen â fuck â please, fuck me harder,â at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You donât want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust.Â
âThat I can give it to you,â he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair.Â
You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible.Â
âYouâre so fucking pretty like this,â he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. âListen to those pretty sounds you make,â he snickers, âand you still want to pretend youâre innocent and pure? Youâre fucked up just like me, baby, thatâs why I like you so much,â he slurs.Â
You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact heâs holding a Polaroid camera. âSmile for the camera, babe,â his voice rings in your ears but doesnât reach your brain and before you know it, youâre coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak. Â
Ghostface would like to say heâs disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second heâs mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldnât mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure thatâs still looming on your body.Â
âFuck,â he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, âyou just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,â he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesnât make it less creepy, but the âfuck me harder methodâ worked because you donât question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly.Â
And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it.Â
âOh, fuck it, Iâll clean you up once weâre done and if youâll try to turn me in, Iâll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?âÂ
You donât get what heâs talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation.Â
The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you canât be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. âWill you go to the police?âÂ
âNo,â you mumble. Â
âGood girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you canât use what we do here to help you with your case.â When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. âFuck, fuck,â he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, âyou feel so fucking good.âÂ
His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head ânot that you need that, you wouldnât be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted toâ and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. Youâll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly.Â
You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.
âLook at you, going all dumb on my cock,â he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what heâs most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. âAre you still thinking about being better than me or â fuck â have you finally embraced your dark side?âÂ
Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind.Â
âIâll take that as a yes,â he grins smugly. âYou know,â he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesnât want it to end so soon, âyou should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. Youâd love that, wouldnât you? Itâd make you feel even more special.âÂ
You mumble a weak reply, itâs a whispered âno,â but your body doesnât deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it wonât happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end. Â
âCause only I can get you like this, ugh,â he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. âNo man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much youâll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,â he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, âwell, the lucky ones that will get a taste before Iâll get them and kill them.âÂ
You donât reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating.Â
âIt turns you on, doesnât it?â You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. âLetâs be honest, youâve got a list of shitty partners, you wouldâve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.âÂ
âFuck, just â just fuck me,â you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesnât like it.Â
He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesnât let go. âOh, no, angel. You donât make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that Iâll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. Iâm the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth youâre too afraid to face,â he groans. âAnd I know youâre close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,â he snickers. âImagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,â he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, âor better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldnât blame them if theyâd get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. Weâre so hot, detective.âÂ
You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you canât ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you canât confess to him or else he wonât stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now? Â
Your silence doesnât make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans.Â
âYou sound so fucking good,â he praises. âWhy donât we play another little game, uh?âÂ
Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, âwhat?âÂ
âBeg me to save your life,â he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. âCome on, do it for me, I wonât ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,â he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and heâs not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now.Â
You take a deep breath and then speak. âPlease, Ghostface, please, spare my life.âÂ
His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. âFuck, yes, keep going,â he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe.Â
And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his âtheirâ safe haven.Â
âCome for me, love,â he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. âAnd donât forget to smile for the camera.âÂ
This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. Itâs breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time youâll fuck someone else youâll hate that heâs right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time youâll let someone in your bed, but you donât hate that thought as you should.Â
âFuck,â he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. âClose your eyes,â he orders, and you follow with no hesitation âhonestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place.Â
Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more.Â
âFuck, fuck, youâre ââ he gasps but doesnât finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. âFuck.â
He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesnât want to forget what you look like right now. âSmile one last time, baby.âÂ
And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you shouldâve told him to donât take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you donât truly care, and you donât deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.
You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, youâre still shaking, and your breath didnât go back to normal, yet.Â
âDonât worry, detective,â Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you donât know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see heâs still wearing his mask. âIâll take care of you.âÂ
The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see.Â
When you wake up, youâre in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note.Â
âIt was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Canât wait to see what our next game will be like⥠âÂ
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what about a sequel to the plug!zoro cheating on you w/ his girl? he broke up with her. some time goes by and zoro & y/n are at a kick back, getting a little frisky with each other and boom she just shows up.
no because you two would be at some barbecue held in frankyâs massive backyard. of course the party animal had to have a pool, so you and the girls were dressed in small fitting bikinis. franky of course couldnât keep his eyes off robin in her violet colored two piece, and nami sported an orange bikini top that was entirely too small for her tits with small shorts. yours was an olive green color working so well with your undertones, you didnât even realized that it was damn near similar to zoroâs hair color till people pointed it out.
zoro was sitting against a beach chair with his back to the seat as he smoked on a backwood with you perched into his lap. he proudly took turns betweeen taking a pull of his weed and kissing you on the lips, the two of you sharing the routine for the last few hours.
âzoro get in the pool! itâs nice, haha!â luffy giggled excitedly. âweâre playing tag!â
zoro couldnât help but roll his eyes at his childish best friend. âiâm good, thanks.â he gestured to his lit wood. with a look up to you, he saw you scrolling through your phone as you rested your side against his body. âyâwanna go in the pool mama?â
you shake your head. âgot wet for the day already,â you reply, but do a double take when you see zoro smirk at you.
with a large hand gripping the flesh of your fatty ass, he teased, âyeah? when?â
you kissed your teeth and slapped his chest. âstop beinâ nasty you perv. âm finna call the cops.â zoro laughs at your threat before taking another pull of his wood.
âyeah, whatever you say, baby.â
you two end up spending the next few minutes making out, without a care in the world. zoro and your entire friend group didnât bat an eyelash at the fact that you two were together. zoro had finally broken up with his girlfriend, but he was sure that it wasnât the case on her end. she was delusional, worse than you.
you spend time in the boyâs arms, getting a whiff of his day old cologne and masculine musk as you two watch videos on your phone. the giggles and laughterspread amongst your friends had stopped and was replaced by numerous yells.
your own friends had joined the party just hours ago, your closest friend armani somewhere in the corner making out with nami. but when you heard armaniâs familar loud voice from across the pool, that was when you grew concerned.
suddenly, a familiar figure storms their way over to your direction. âhey, youâre like trespassing on private property bro!â franky yelled as he tried to chase after the girl. within thirty seconds, zoroâs girlfriendâor as he says, exâ is in front of you.
she gives you one look before letting out a laugh. âof course. i knew youâd be fucking with her.â
zoro furrowed his eyebrows. âthe fuck did you find me?â
the red girl points to her phone angrily. i fucking tracked your car and phone here!â
âooh, damn,â you hear usopp turn and pretend to mind his business. but from his side eye and the corner of his long nose, you could tell he was still being nosy. by now, the entire party was.
âyou fucking tracked me? are you insane?â zoro delicately lifts you up to place you next to him on the seat so he could properly sit up. âweâre not fucking together no more!â
âthatâs not fair, zoro!â his ex cried. âyou did that shit out of nowhere, i think i deserve some sort of explanation!â
standing up, you try to mediate the situation. âgirl, i think yâall should step inside so no one hearsââ
âi donât owe you a fuckinâ explanation!â zoro exclaims from behind you.
âfuck you, you whore!â the girl points at you. âyouâve been fucking my boyfriend from the start, you dirty bitch!â
now you grow angry. âiâve been fucking âyour boyfriendâ since we were sixteen,â is all you say, knowing that would get under her skin. it was true though, zoroâs always wanted you, even before he started selling. you just never cared to give his ass the time of day mostly. âand you met him when, two years ago? please lil girl.â
zoroâs ex scoffs. âyeah okay, home wrecking whoreââ
âyou sure? i coulda sworn it was a section 8 apartment with the way youâre always up on niggas thatâs not him!â
you wouldnât even call your relationship with zoro homewrecking, not when you had him first and have been on and off with him since you both were teenagers. you just never anticipated that the little fling he had with the girl woulf have turned into something at the very least semi-serious. besides, youâd never fucked zoro when he was in a committed relationship with his then girlfriend at the time. out of simple respect for her, you had stepped back from him and whatever he had going on with her until he assured you that he was done with her and only wanted you.
âdonât get me started bitch before i hurt your feelings,â you threatened, giving the shorter girl a hard look.
zoroâs ex rolls her eyes. âyeah? you think he wants you when heâs coming home to me every other night?â
now you were on ten. âyou gotta get a refund on that tracker baby cuz it aint telling the truth. not when the nigga live at my house. you check behind his ear lately? who name on that shit?â
color drains from the girlâs face as she watches zoro look at her with blank eyes. low and behold was your name in a beautiful script font, right behind his ear. his favorite spot he loved for you to kiss.
âyouâre insane as fuck. you tried to track this nigga, trap this nigga, thinking a baby gon make him stay. he doesnât fucking want you!â you scream. you were never this mean. but she was testing your nerves, and you had to show her you didnât even play like that. ânow you just got embarrassed. right after i told you to go inside with him on that bullshit.â
zoroâs ex makes a move to plunge towards you, but zoro successfully catches her in his strong grasp. âlet me go!â the girl screams, attemtpinf to lunge at you. you mirror her actions, only to be held back by frankyâs own strong grip.
âzee, take your bitch outside before i beat her ass bro!â you heathe, glaring at the girl who was matching your expression. even he couldnât contain your anger at the moment. it was good franky was holding you back. zoro does as told and practically hauls his ex out the backyard on his shoulder. from a distance, you can see her calm down and melt into his embrace.
âthat was some crazy shit,â usopp breathed out.
as if on cue, luffu exits the house with a big BBQ chicken leg in his hand, food stuffed in his mouth. âwhat the hell happened?â
#loraâs shit talk! ŕŠâŠâ§âË#im back#just a lil sum sum#till i really cook#plug!zoro#plug!zoro x black reader#plug zoro x black reader#plug zoro#plug zoro x chubby reader#roronoa zoro x black reader#zoro x black reader#roronoa zoro x chubby reader#zoro x chubby reader#one piece x black reader#one piece x black!reader#one piece smut#zoro smut#plug zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader
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Fire and Frost
17/12: Tinsel and Talking Dirty - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: pussy slapping, dirty talk, hair pulling
12 Days of Smuff Masterlist
The faint hum of the central heating filled the apartment, its warmth fighting back the biting chill of the December evening. The scent of cinnamon lingered faintly, a remnant of the candle she had lit earlier. Aemond leaned back against the sofa, watching her with a bemused expression.
âI donât celebrate Christmas.â
She could roll her eyes, again, but she doubted it would make a difference. Mr. I-donât-celebrate-Christmas sat cross-armed, observing as she unwrapped a tangle of decorations, their bright colors gleaming under the soft, golden glow of the apartmentâs floor lamp. A tiny artificial tree perched on the side table, not her usual five foot, real fir, but it would have to do.
She paused and gave him a pointed look. âDonât be a Scrooge, help me decorate.â
âWhat in the Seven Hells is a âScroogeâ?â
The exasperation bubbled up again, and this time she did roll her eyes. âSeriously? Have you never had Christmas before?â
A faint shadow flickered over his face, so brief she nearly missed it. The idea left her both curious and sad, but before she could push the thought further, she shook it off and pulled out another box of decorations.
If he'd never had a proper Christmas before, she'd give a good one.
Soon, she was dragging him off the sofa, his exhaled huff carrying the faintest tinge of amusement. Together, they worked their way around the apartment. She hummed softly as she placed ceramic Christmas trees and wreaths on shelves and countertops, her enthusiasm battling with his stoic nature. Aemond followed, his movements reluctant but oddly endearing. She couldnât help but smile as their shared space became cozier with every ornament.
The sharp metallic shimmer of tinsel caught her eye as she moved to the mantle. She turned, mid-smirk, just in time to see Aemond wrestling with a particularly unruly length of it.Â
âWhat the fuck is this stuff?â he muttered, holding it up as if it might bite him.
She snorted, âAemond, you sound like an alien.â
âItâs awful. And it looks like shitââ
âOkay, okay,â she interrupted, laughing, âAre we still going out later?â
Aemond blinked, momentarily thrown by the shift in topic. âTo the cocktail bar? The one you saw with AegonâŚand whoever he was with?â
âYes!â She beamed, âthat one. I thought it looked festive.â
âIâm ready whenever you are. Iâll go out like this.â
She gave him a skeptical glance but didnât argue. Slipping into the bedroom, she began to get ready. She rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out her black leather boots and the outfit she had been saving. The faint hum of a holiday tune played in her head as she freshened up at the vanity. A bag of sparkly hair tinsel caught her eye, an odd souvenir from Aegonâs drunk ex in a bar bathroom.
She hesitated, then shrugged. Why not?
When she emerged, her boots clicking softly against the wooden floor, she called out, âNearly ready, Aem!â She dabbed a little of her favorite perfume on her wrists. Floral and spicy.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn on the sofa, about to reply, but the words stalled as his gaze swept over her. She looked down at herself, smoothing her skirt before glancing up. âWhat?â she asked, her cheeks warming. âToo much?â
His lips parted slightly, his one good eye fixed on her hair. âNo, itâsâŚitâs in your hair.â
âWhat is?â She blinked, confused.
âThatâŚtinsel stuff.â
She reached up, fingers brushing against the glimmering strands. âOh! No, itâs hair tinsel. It gives your hair an extra sparkle. Donât you like it?â
For a moment, he didnât reply, his expression unreadable. Then a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he stepped closer. âNo,â he murmured, his fingers reaching out to gently catch a sparkling strand, âit looksâŚnice.â
âJust nice?â she teased softly, her lips parting as his hand formed a fist in her hair.
For some reason it felt as if they wouldnât even make it out the door tonight.
He tugged gently, enough to send a shiver down her spine and have her knees shake. She knew that look. The Christmas lights danced off her hair now, but the warmth she felt, she couldnât say was from them alone. It started against her pulse point, thrumming through her blood, to settle in her stomach, fluttering with anticipation.
A bemused grin swept across his face, mismatched eyes looked back with amusement, his other hand dropping to her side, palming her backside and bringing her body flush with his.
âI've decided,â he starts, his breath ghosting across her cheek, âI don't like your outfit.â
She felt his lips drift across her jawline, to press open-mouthed kisses down her neck, over her pulse point, knowing exactly where all her weak spots lived.
âThat so,â she whispered back, voice thick with need.
âMmhm,â he murmured, using his grip in her hair to tilt her neck, eager for more skin. He could smell the floral notes of her perfume pressed against her flesh, and the more he tasted, the more he wanted.
âI think you're trying to distract me,â she mused.
âAm I?â he replied, his tone laced with faux innocence as he nipped at her skin, down to her collarbone, grinding himself against her to gain the slightest bit of friction. Her fingers curled into his shirt, to keep herself firmly on her feet.
âAemond, we're going to be late.â
He smirked against her skin, a puff of air against her neck was all she needed to feel to know he felt that he'd won a game she wasn't aware they were playing.
âFor what? Overpriced cocktails and obnoxious strangers?â
Her lips parted to retort, but his hand slid down her back, tracing a slow, deliberate path that left her unable to form a coherent thought.
He chuckled, the sound dark and rough, and the hand at her waist slipped lower, cupping her ass and pulling her firmly against him. She could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against her, and heat bloomed in her core, spreading through her like wildfire.
âNow why would you think I'd waste my night out thereâŚwhen I could stay in and watch you fall apart on my cock instead.â
Her breath hitched. âAemondââ
âYou like that idea, donât you?â he interrupted, his tone smug and filthy. His hands gripped her hips now, guiding her against him in a slow grind that left no room for denial. âYouâd rather let me spread you out right here, wouldnât you? Make you beg for it, make you scream my name until you canât think of anything else.â
The room felt hotter, the air heavier. She tried to steady herself, but his words were relentless, each one unraveling her resolve bit by bit.
âIâll fuck you right here,â he continued, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingers brushing the hem of her skirt. âAgainst the wall, on the floor, over the back of the sofa, you can choose. But by the end of the night, youâll be a mess. My mess.â
She pulled back to look at him, her cheeks flushed with need. There was no time for thoughts, she needed him, and clearly judging by his erection pressed against her stomach, he needed her too.
âSofa,â she whispered.
He hummed, brushing his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. âFine,â he drawled, taking a step back and leading her toward the sofa.Â
His eye raked over her as he leaned back, one arm draped casually over the back, the other patting his thigh. âOn top,â he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
She hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze searing into her.
âDonât make me wait,â he snapped. âIf youâre so desperate to be fucked, then youâre going to do the work, love. Show me how much you want it.â
Her cheeks burned as she straddled him slowly, the soft leather cool beneath her knees as she settled over his lap.
âThatâs better,â he muttered, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force. âSo good for me.â
She whimpered at his words, her thighs tightening around him as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her skirt, tracing the bare skin of her thighs.
âYou think you deserve to ride me?â he sneered, his good eye narrowing as his hand slipped between them, finding the slick heat waiting for him. He groaned softly, his voice darkening. âFuck, youâre already soaked. Such a desperate little slut.â
He punctuated the name with a soft, wet smack, her breath hitched in part pleasure and pain, but eased as his fingers brushed her clit, the teasing touch sending jolts of pleasure through her.
âBeg,â he commanded, his fingers circling lazily. âIf you want to fuck yourself on my cock, youâre going to have to beg for it.â
Her pride wavered, teetering on the edge of defiance, but the ache in her core was too overwhelming. âPlease,â she whispered, her voice trembling.
He chuckled darkly, his fingers pulling away entirely, leaving her whining in frustration. âThatâs pathetic, even for you,â he smirked, âgo on then, baby.â
She reached down, her trembling fingers undoing his belt and pulling his cock free. He was hard, thick, and the sight of him made her mouth go dry. She lined herself up, sinking down slowly, her walls stretching to accommodate him as her head fell back with a gasp.
âFuck,â he groaned, his hands gripping her waist as he watched her. âThatâs it. Take it all. Every inch. Donât stop until youâve got me buried inside that greedy little cunt.â
Her thighs trembled as she sank down fully, her body flush against his. She began to rock her hips, her movements tentative at first, but his sharp grip and the filthy words spilling from his lips spurred her on.
âIs that all youâve got?â he taunted, his hand coming down hard on her ass with a sharp smack that made her cry out. âCome on, fucking work for it. If you want to come, youâre going to have to earn it.â
Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against her sensitive skin.
âLook at you,â he growled, his eyes locked on her. âSo fucking needy, using me like a toy. Bet you don't even care about getting me off.â
And Gods, why would she when it felt this good?
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She's A Spitfire - Benny x Reader
A/N: I can't help myself. This one's a little different, readers sassy haha. And this one is a long one.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Also, feel free to send requests :)
Boys and their toys, you always think when it comes to your boyfriend and his other biker club buddies and their motorcycles. Or anything with wheels really. And for their love of them, you found your Saturday out with the boyfriend, and his boys, at what started as a car show. But now also sported motorcycles, from a few different clubs.
Troy and his friends were discussing whoâs bike was better, or what car looked the best. You didnât know, it was all so boring. So you and three other women, partners of other bikers, were sitting around on blankets, taking in the sun and gossiping. Leaning back on your arms, one leg stretched out while the other propped up, you tilted your head back, eyes closed taking in the sun.
âJeez (Y/N), do you need to be more on display!â Becky said with a chuckle.
To her words you popped your chest out more, smirk crossing your red lips.
âBetter hope Troy donât see yaâ commented Danni.
âSo what if he does? I do what I want, not what he wantsâ you remarked, making them all cackle with laughter.
âCanât believe the other clubs hereâ Pam said rattling off names. â...Rogues and Vandalsâ she finishes.
âJust more bike wired men, who enjoy vibrations between there legs, and have drinking problemsâ you said offhandedly, making the women laugh more.
You always say what you want, making people think you were born with no filter. And that was fine with you. Even if it does get you in some trouble from time to time. The last time it was between you and another woman at the clubs bar, she had been mouthy and flirting up a storm with Troy. You called her out, she ignored you. So, you gave her some truths from her choice in clothes to her hair and skin care routine. She wasnât a fan of you after that, going straight to slap you, but you caught her hand and gave her a serving of her own.
After that no woman in that bar messed with you, or your boyfriend. But that didnât stop Troy from messing around on you. His taste seemed to have changed to cutesy, good girls who wore sweet dresses and heels. Even with this knowledge you still put up with him. But his time was coming, you could feel it. When the time was right youâd get your revenge.
âSweet lord and Jesusâs!â Breathed out Danni, looking across the way, her glasses pulled down her nose, eyes looking over the top of them. âHe should be illegal!â
You rolled your eyes at her words. After all her taste was â excuse the language â in her ass about eight out of ten times.
âOh myâ Pam said moving to swing her body around to face where Danni was looking. âIs he real!?â
Alright, now your interest was piqued. Lolling your head to the right, you searched for what those two were gawking at. And boy did you find it. He was tall, strong build. Dressed in a black t-shirt, jacket, dirty white jeans and matching dirty boots. He had messy blonde locks that one could run their hand through, or as you like, to pull on. Of course he was a Vandal, as his colors said when he turned around to take a beer from another Vandal. Then he took a swig of it, making the simplest of actions make you think not so clean thoughts.
âSomeone serve me a slice of thatâ Becky said with a dreamy voice. You all agreeing with her.
You moved a hand to draw down your sunglasses, needing to see him in the days full light. Glare be damned, you needed this. Without the glasses tint, he looked even better. He was talking to the man that gave him the beer, nodding his head to whatever said. Another two men walked over, one with his arm slung over the other in an attempted to keep standing up, possibly from a little too much to drink. They laughed, talking to blondie before the one holding up his buddy slapped him on the arm, head gesturing in your direction.
All four of you froze, like a deer in headlights as blondie turned his gaze to you all. His friends continuing to talk and laugh, no doubt mentioning you four staring. Maybe encouraging blondie to come over. But he didnât move, eyes locked on you all, or was it you? You werenât sure. He took another swig from his bottle, yet never took his eyes off you. Feeling the butterflies swarming your stomach, you put your sunglasses back on, before lolling your head back to where it had been. You had started to feel exposed by his staring, so you had to cut it off, and get back your bad bitch energy.
Benny had made his way over to Johnny and Brucie after taking a leek. They were in deep conversation about an upcoming picnic, discussing the finer details. Johnny had handed him a beer, which he thanked him for before taking a long swig.
âSome of the women think kids shouldnât be attendinâ. Saying too many men are getting stoned or drunk, doesnât set a good exampleâ laughed Brucie.
Johnny shook his head. âItâs a family picnic, kids have to be there. What ya think Benny?â
âHuh? Oh, yeah kids should be thereâ Benny said not really paying much mind.
It didnât matter to him much if kids were at the picnic. But knowing how Johnny likes to bridge his family and club life. It was a small thing to let him enjoy both, even for a small time. It was then that Benny spotted Wahoo and Corky making their way over. Corky had his arm over Wahoo, using his counter part as a crutch from drinking too much. When they finally made it over, Johnny asked them the same question he asked Benny. They both attempted to make a few jokes about it, but they werenât funny.
âI donât care if thereâs kids, as long as they stay out of my wayâ Wahoo said, Corky nodding his head.
Johnny nodded his head. Decision made, tradition will stand and its a full family friendly picnic. With that decided Benny listened to the two new comers talk about Zipco going on about Pinko's, before Wahoo's attention moved to across the way. A smirk formed on his lips before he turned back to Benny.
âSeems ya got an audienceâ Wahoo mused, slapping Bennyâs arm and head gesturing to across from them.
Confused, Benny looked to where Wahoo had been looking. There on a blanket sat four women. Three of them were sitting up right and gawking, while the fourth was lounging back. Out of all of them, she was the one to catch Bennyâs attention. The position she was in, her chest sticking out in her tight sweater, was a pleasant sight to the masses. Dark slacks covered her slender legs, making him wonder what theyâd be like straddling his bike, or his lap. Over all she was a vixen, no doubt a spitfire, if the air she gave off implied.
Wahoo and Corky kept talking, making comments about the women. But then they talked about her. Voicing Bennyâs thoughts. Yet he didnât like it one bit. He thought those words and thoughts should just be from him, no other man. Feeling his mouth dry, Benny brought the beer to his lips and took a drink. But made sure to keep his eyes on her. The cause for needing that drink.
âYou should go over there Bennyâ Johnny stated, watching the younger man. âGo introduce yourselfâ.
Benny thought it over, maybe he should. Whatâs the harm it could do? Whatâs the worst that could happen? You would say no, thatâs nothing. Feeling confident Benny watched as the focus of his gaze put her glasses back on, turned her head, and go back to enjoying the sun. He handed Johnny his half full bottle before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, the only time he took his eyes off her. After taking a drag, Benny looked to the women again, slowly releasing the smoke from his mouth.
âIâll be backâ was all Benny said before putting the cigarette back between his lips.
You listened to the sounds the girls made, Pam gushing over when blondie took a drag of his cigarette. You had to stop yourself from turning to look at him, you had to remain calm. You never give a man power over you, and by jumping at any little thing would do that.
âOh lord! Heâs coming this way!â Becky said slapping Pamâs arm. âDo I look alright!?â
âYou?! What about me?!â Retorted Pam.
You sighed. âCalm down girls, heâs just a manâ you sighed.
âA fine man, yesâ muttered Danni.
Once more you sighed before turning your head slightly, watching blondie slowly walking your way. You reminded the girls to stay calm. But part of you was trying to tell yourself it too. Blondie continued to smoke his cigarette, which now you understood the girls reaction. He really did make anything look good. Finally reaching you, blondie came around to stand beside you, before squatting down. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked it away, done with it.
âHeyâ came his gravelly voice. âI'm Bennyâ. A beautiful smile crossed his sinful lips.
You did your best to keep breathing as you pulled down your sunglasses, looking Benny in the eyes, beautiful baby blues watching your every move. âHi Benny, Iâm (Y/N)â you replied sweetly, smile gracing your lips.
âHmm, pretty name for a pretty vixenâ Benny mused, making you chuckle. âHey ladiesâ Benny added looking to the women sitting around you.
They weakly said hi back, unsure of their own voices.
âYou know how to get women to quiet down, huh?â You mused pushing your sunglasses back up.
Benny laughed. âDonât know, never taken notice beforeâ.
You smiled at his honesty.
âBut it doesnât seem to work on you, aye?â Benny asked teasingly.
âUnfortunately, nopeâ was your simple reply. But in your head you were gushing.
âI like thatâ he stated looking you up and down. âYou got a man?â
You smirked. âYeah I do. Why? Think you could handle me?â
Benny chuckled, âmore could you handle me, baby?â
âI can handle anythin' Benny. Iâm not afraid of anythinââ. That was a lie, but you couldnât back down. Nor could you stop yourself. His attention was electrifying. But part of you feared Benny could make you go weak, could even fall for him and his baby blues.
âOh is that so?â Benny asked, smirking at the banter between you both.
âYepâ you replied tilting your head back and sighing, knowing full well you were teasing the biker.
And what about Troy? All you thought was Troy who? He had his fun with sweet girls, even though he had a sultry woman. If he was having his cake and eating it too, you could tease another biker. And if Troy hears about it, you didnât care. You were done with his crap.
âShame you have a man, as Iâd love to take you for a ride on my bikeâ Benny said, with a sad face. âBut, as you said, you have a man...â
You almost caved, melting at his words and sad look. But you stayed strong. It couldnât hurt to give him some hope, right?
âHmm, I guess it is for ya. But you never know, play your cards right and you just might get me on your bikeâ. You pulled down your glasses, shot him a wink before putting them back in their place.
Oh how Benny wanted to groan from your flirty ways, and that wink. Cherry on top. Licking his lips, Benny took a moment to focus. You were clouding his head, but in a good way.
âAlright baby, when youâre ready let me knowâ.
With that Benny stood up, and took his leave. He walked back to the guys heâd left. You watched him walk away, loving the view. All three women did, was just as good as him walking over. Then they turned their sights on you, all in a state of shock and awe.
âWhat?â You asked innocently. Though far from it.
All three began to talk, questioning you what just happened? If you were crazy? What about Troy? Could you to teach them your ways, and so on. You ended up laughing with every question. Laughing to the point you ended up laying on the blanket on your back, a hand coming to cover your mouth while sticking the other out in an attempt to stop them.
âAlright, alright. Enough!â You exclaimed, out of breath.
âSeriously (Y/N), what was that?â Asked Danni with confusion.
You shrugged, moving to rest your hands behind your head. âDunno, but it was fun. Benny is quite the dish, am I right?â
âWhat about your boyfriend?â Inquired Pam.
Again you shrugged. âHe doesnât have to knowâ.
Becky scoffed. âYeah, if you werenât out in the open, surrounded by people. Heâs gonna hear about itâ.
âOh wellâ you sighed. âWill make things interestinââ.
All three women shared a look. âMaybe. Or cause a brawlâ.
You looked to them. âNo doubt a brawl will happen. Whoever wins can have meâ.
And with that you turned your face back to the sky, closing your eyes and trying to remain calm. Your heart was racing with the thought of Troy flaring up, you enjoy a verbal fight because it would lead to a hot make up session back home. But after learning the truth of what your boyfriend has been up to, you really didnât want to have words with him. You thought about ending things, but he wouldnât take no for an answer. So, this could be your chance to drop him.
And Benny. Where do you begin with Benny. The man was gorgeous, dangerously tempting. Plus he was just as taken with you, as you were him. Or else he wouldnât have been flirting. Youâd gladly get on his bike, and let him take you for a ride. Take that anyway you want. Now you would sit back and see what happens.
Benny made it back to his friends, Johnny holding out his beer with a smirk. âPleasant chat, hmm?â
He smirked taking the bottle. âYeah, sheâs a spitfireâ.
The men laughed, Wahoo clapping Benny on the back. The men joked and talked, all about watching Benny and the spitfire. Benny took a swig from the bottle, chuckling at his friends. Glancing back over to her and her friends, Benny noticed that she was now laying on the blanket. It didnât help him one bit. The things he was thinking he could do to her.
âSo, when you taking her for a ride?â Corky asked wiggling his eyebrows, double meaning to his question.
Benny shook his head looking to the male. âSheâs got a manâ.
âWhen has that stopped you?â Laughed Wahoo.
Benny laughed at his question, he had a point. âShe did say if I played my cards right and I just might get her on my bikeâ.
Corky and Wahoo hollered and hooted, Johnny just shaking his head with a smile on his face before taking a sip from his beer. Brucie clinked his beer bottle with Bennyâs, showing his praise. Benny felt like he was on his bike, riding down an open road, the rush of freedom. But he wasnât on his bike, or riding the open road. It was because of her. The spitfire, vixen with red lips and sultry presence.
âI take it the boyfriend is here?â Johnny suddenly asked, breaking Benny from thought.
He shrugged. âProbablyâ.
âIâd expect heâll hear about you talkinâ to his girl, ya know?â
âYeah. I can handle himâ Benny said without a care, drinking more of his beer.
âThe boyfriend should be the worried oneâ laughed Corky.
They know he was right, but didnât voice it. They all know Benny was ruthless when it comes to a fight. To the point he has to be pulled off the other guy. Past brawls have proven that. Johnny having to wrap his arms around Benny and drag him back, which is hard when Benny sees red.
âCross that bridge when it comesâ Benny said, ending it there with him walking off.
It was later in the afternoon when Troy finally surfaced, after leaving you with your friends for hours. By now you sitting on the blanket, deep in conversation with the girls. But always keeping an eye on Benny, and seeing he did the same. You might have even kept teasing him, which got the desired effect; want. Yes, you continued to fan the flame, fully knowing that could or would it engulf everything.
Back to Troy; he came stomping over, a couple of his friends behind him. Troy had heard gossip through out the day of some biker hitting on a stunning woman. Gradually all the pieces coming out and he found out that woman was you. Furry filled him. His girl talking to another biker, another biker having the guts to speak to his girl.
âOh shit!â cursed Danni. âHere comes the consequenceâ.
Not quiet getting what she meant, you looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend heading your way. âWell, it took him long enoughâ you sighed, moving to stand.
Once on your feet, you dusted your legs and behind. Then you fixed your top, not even showing a care in the world. On the inside you were uneasy. Questioning how he was going to react. Would he yell and jump up and down? Would he quietly yell at you? Youâre about to find out.
â(Y/N)! Whatâs this Iâm hearin' about some Vandal talkin' to ya!?â Troy questioned, seething with anger.
You raised your bored gaze to him. âJust that, talkinâ to me. And?â
That didnât help. Troyâs anger rose to furry. He grabbed your arm â tightly â and pulled you close. âWhat was that! Tell me now what happened or so help meâ.
Your straightened up, keeping your face calm, as you tried to pull your arm free. âTroy, let go of my arm. Youâre hurtinâ me!â Your voice raised in volume, but fell on deaf ears.
âTell me if youâre whoring aroundâ he yelled, starting to catch the attention of others.
âHa. Iâm far from whoring around Troyâ you gritted out, still trying to free your arm. âUnlike you, of courseâ.
He growled, shaking you, grip only getting tighter. âWhat ya sayinâ, huh!?â
Before you could think or say anything, you saw a fist come flying and make contact with Troyâs face. His grip finally freeing your arm as he staggered back a few steps. You held your arm, moving back from the man. Finally processing what happened, you turned to see Benny standing there, breathing heavy with tightly clutched fists.
âShe asked you to let her goâ Benny heaved. âNo man should ever grab a woman like you didâ.
Benny had just gotten back with Cal, after taking a walk to check out some bikes. Upon his return he witnessed a man, hell bent on reaching his destination, with an anger that only spelt trouble. And when he stopped before you, Benny knew what was to come. A verbal altercation or a physical one to defend you. As soon as he grabbed your arm, Benny began to slowly walk over, Cal and Johnny right behind him. Benny heard everything said. Accusing you of whoring around and his grip tightening to the point you were trying to get free, was what did it. And he swung his fist.
âYou alright spitfire?â Benny asked looking over his shoulder at you. Choosing the new nickname over his favorite; baby.
You were putting on a brave face, he could tell but didnât say anything. âIâm alright. But gonna have a nice bruiseâ.
Holding his cheek, Troy watched you both. A sneer on his face. âTake it youâre the Vandal this whore was flirtinâ withâ he spat.
It only stoked the flame in Benny. How dare this man so easily doubt you, call you a whore. âIf anythinâ Iâm the one who talked to herâ Benny defended flexing his hands, itching to connect them to his face some more.
Troy laughed. âNo need to lie for her. She ainât nothinâ but troubleâ.
You felt anger rising, replacing the unease. âOther way around babyâ you spat out.
Troyâs laughter died, eyes narrowing in on you. âStay out of it sweetheart, the men are talkinââ
âManâ you corrected, âI only see one and heâs defendinâ meâ.
That got under his skin, and Troy made to go for you but Benny grabbed him before pushing him back. âI wouldnât even try itâ.
Troy laughed dryly. âMight straighten her outâ.
That was it, last strike. Benny lost it, fist connecting with Troyâs face again and then again. The first time Troy copped the full hit, but managed to get a half block in. Then he returned Bennyâs fists with his own, getting a hit in. You moved away from them, calling out for them to stop but they werenât listening. Troyâs buddyâs went in to helped their friend, but Cal and Johnny made sure they were taken care of. A full on three way brawl was taking place, with so many on lookers.
Troy managed to dodge Benny and step away from him, but unlucky for him Benny charged at him, tackling him to the ground and waling on him. This was when Cal and Johnny noticed the anger of their friend. Troyâs buddies just watching, afraid to step in to help him. Johnny was the one to grab Benny, but he couldnât pull him away, until Cal helped him. They were telling Benny to stop, it was enough. Sitting on the grass, both men with him, holding an arm. Benny saw the damage heâd done, to Troy and his own hands. Spitting he went to stand, his friends moving to help him.
âDonât ever say those words about or too (Y/N) again, or to anyone. Ya hear!?â Bennyâs voice was breathless and more gravelly.
Troy just nodded his head, making noises in pain.
Benny turned to you. âSorry about that spitfire, just donât like a man disrespecting a womanâ.
You nodded, offering a small smile. âThanks for coming to my rescueâ.
He chuckled, âalwaysâ and winked. Yet it hurt from getting clocked in the eye.
âAlright, come on. Letâs get ya cleaned upâ Johnny said patting Benny on the back, and starting to uncomfortably walk back to his spot.
Cal also patted Benny before walking back too.
Benny looked back to you. âYa cominâ baby?â He asked, not caring anymore and just calling you what he wanted.
You smiled grabbing your bag and stepping up to him. âSure Bennyâ.
He wrapped his arm around you and you both moved to pass Troy, before he grabbed your slacks. âWhat about me? Ya boyfriend?â
You looked to Benny, before moving from his arm and leaning down to Troy. âItâs over. Plain and simpleâ.
He sputtered. âHuh!? Whoâs gonna look after me!?â
You smiled at his sweetly. âI dunno, maybe ask Anna or Stefanie or Doris to take care of you. Because this whore ainât ya girl anymoreâ.
With that, you put Bennyâs arm around you again and you both headed over to his friends. You helped clean up Bennyâs hands and face. He liked having your attention on him, liked how careful you were cleaning and wrapping up his hands. Once done you took a seat next to him with a sigh, head leaning back against the car you were both sitting beside.
âSorry you had to step in back thereâ you said softly. âI didnât expect that to happenâ.
Benny chuckled. âItâs my fault. I struck first, talk later. Itâs my styleâ.
You laughed, a genuine laugh. âWell, how about we both say sorry thenâ.
Benny nodded. âSounds good to meâ.
A comfortable silence fell between you too. You looked over to your friends, who were glancing at you both occasionally. Were they still your friends? After all they were with other bikers in Troyâs club. So, where does this leave you, with such a public break up too. Only time would tell.
Feeling restless you sat up and turned to Benny. âYour offer still stands for a ride on your bike?â
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
âI feel like I need a change of sceneryâ you gestured to your friends, as well as Troy and his boys further behind the girls.
He nodded before standing. Benny held out his hand and you took it carefully, before he pulled you up, not caring about the pain. You wanted to leave, go anywhere from here and what happened. Leading you to his bike, it didnât take long for him to get on and start the bike up, the roar catching peopleâs attention. Without trouble you got on behind him, hands wrapping around his body, hands resting against his firm stomach. Then Benny took off, heading out and onto the road. Letting his bike take you both wherever, and enjoy the freedom it gives you both.
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â° SECRET ADMIRER pt.2
â highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader
synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy
cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.
an: guyyyyss it's hereeee. i hope you enjoy since i had many people asking for me to continue with this. i hope it is as good as the first part that btw you can read here
wc: 1,3k
the two went on a mission walking around the school and very non-suspiciously investigating whose hand that might be.
"i'm telling you! there's sato, iida and..." counted.
"are they even suspects!?" you mocked. "we have to be coherent about it. i don't even have a major relationship with them..."
"how could you possibly know what goes on inside other's head? i think you're being biased about it."
"what do you mean?"
"i know you want it to be one of the hottest in our class!" smiled diabolically.
"i have no idea what you're talking about." you sweated.
"maybe we should call that double colored guy and just ask a few questions..."
"no way... what are you insinuating?" you almost screamed truly shocked.
"that you have a slight cru-"
"I don't have a crush."
"admit it already."
"I'm not admitting anything. quit pestering."
"you're no fun at all. so... are we talking to Todoroki any soon?"
"no."
"psst, isn't that sero coming this way?" mina whispered looking ahead of the corridor.
the duo telepathically agreed to their next move and mina quickly went in action.
"hey, if isn't our fave tape boy! can I have a high-five?" the pink cheered lifting her hand.
the jet-black haired guy smiled playfully slapping hands with her. watching everything, you caught that glimpse of time needed to take conclusions on the survey.
"what are you two up to? feeling extra energetic today..." sero stated.
absorbed in your own thoughts, you simply couldn't answer any of the questions made, so pinky said in advance: "we're just too excited for the... the-"
"for what?"
"the new movie...! yeah! that one with the clowns. everyone is so hyped to watch it!" mina came up with some excuse.
"oh, so you like 'bloody nightmare' series too? man, me and denki are gathering people to go watch with us." he cheered.
you and mina eyed each other nervously while sero kept rambling about horror films. pinky swiftly poked your side sending the 'make him shut up' signal and you quickly catch the message saying:
"y-yeah! it would be super cool, but we need to... to... go to the 1b room! to dis- discuss the next match-"
"we're discussing the teams for the next training match!" mina rapidly came with an excuse ready to push you up the corridor. "see ya!"
"but guys... their class is towards the other side." sero warned confusedly.
"r-right! it's been months, but we still get lost... hehe!" mina sweated. she spotted a purple voluminous hair meters away. "shinso! wait up!"
and you runned away. sero chuckled observing the girls as another duo approached.
"'sup pal?" kirishima greeted. "it's a important matter so, could you share what are the girls planning? we have business with them."
"it's no use, we're gonna lose sight of them." said the blonde ready to walk away, but his buddy was fast to grab his shirt stopping his tracks.
"be reasonable, it's creepy to chase them around the school." eijiro whispered.
"what are you two up to?" sero crossed arms curious about the situation.
"nothing particularly important. girly borrowed something from bakugo." his heart he thought slightly laughing. "did them say anything about where they're heading?" asked.
"mina said they have something to do with class 1b, and i think they left with shinso." sero explained.
"not that eraserhead wannabe..." katsuki gritted teeth.
"well, no time to lose then! thanks dude." kirishima dragged his best friend away.
when the two males finally found the duo they were shocked to see you holding shinso's hand while walking
kirishima panicked turning to the blonde who watched that scene petrified. it was the second time eijiro saw that expression on his face, the first was when they watched all might last fight. that expression that indicates he started malfunctioning, his thoughts are running wild, and he is about to break.
when he finally inhaled, kirishima's heart skipped a beat thinking bakugo would explode at any moment. he prepared himself to restrain his friend from murdering somebody or start yelling like a psycho, but bakugo just hollowed his lungs right after.
watching deadpanned as you walked away giggling.
that behavior... it was truly concerning coming from him.
"are you totally sure?" mina whispered excited.
"it's a great probability, didn't you see that monstrosity of a hand!?" you whisper-exclaimed. "his grip almost crushed mine!"
"okay, but let's don't get ahead of ourselves, there's other boys to analyze." mina said carefully.
"right, but he's a suspect! and did you notice how he didn't hesitate or felt uneasy to hold my hand?"
"i'm not jumping to conclusions but he seemed too chill! it's almost unnatural coming from a person who wrote a love letter." mina spoke wisely.
"you're right." you pouted.
"what am i suspect about? love letter!?"
"aaaaaack! for fucks sake!" you and mina jolted. "y-you heard us?" you asked shyly.
"were you eavesdropping!?" mina confronted.
the boy leaned in the doorframe crossing his arms unphazed by the pink's attitude. "you're not even whispering... some of 1b even heard about how i have big ass hands and shit." he chuckled.
you looked over shinso's shoulder only to encounter monoma, kendo, shiozaki and komori confusedly observing at some distance. "h-hey guys..." and kendo smiled amused.
"he caught us, mina. what do we do?" you said fidgety.
"there's no other way now that he knows our secret. we must kill you." mina stated creepily serious to shinso, making him falter.
"ha. you almost got me there." he laughed mindlessly. after a couple of seconds staring at each other he came to realization. " you're joking,,, right?"
_
"why did you have to scare him like that? what if he go out telling others?"
"it's quite the opposite. he won't tell anyone if he believes it's confidential information. you can question my methods but not my results!" the pink girl explained confidently.
walking down the corridor in search for another male friend. now that the lunchtime was coming to an end the school was less fuzzy, and the groups concentrated in their usual places.
"uh... mina... you're not actually dangerous, are you?" you blurted.
she looked at you puzzled, as if that question was more complicated than it actually seemed. "why do you ask?"
"it's just because, you're my best friend, and if it were for me to have a psycho so close to me i would want to know..." you reasoned.
"don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "but like you said, we're best friends, that does mean i would probably hide a body for you."
"wait. what the-"
_
"kirishima it's been thirty minutes." the blonde stated impatiently.
the boys were sitting casually at their class waiting for the others to come grab their keys to the closets. p.e was the next hour.
"just be patient dude, when she arrives, you casually get up and go talk to her. do you remember the three steps?" the red haired pointed.
"don't scream, don't curse and look at her in the eye." bakugo grumbled a little skeptical.
when they heard high pitched voices and footsteps approaching the blonde jolted in his seat.
"there they are." kirishima whispered. "good luck soldier"
katsuki got up with a sigh, heart beating fast, he didn't even notice his feet leading him directly to you and almost fainted when you looked at him with those doe eyes.
"h-hey."
"hey!" you greeted rummaging your backpack.
"i was... i recalled that time last week you shared your notes and... i"
"you came to say thanks? it's alrighty! just gimme a shoutout whenever you need!" you smiled
his ears reddened. "y-yeah. but i was trying to ask if ya wanna grab milkshakes sometimes, my treat for the notes." katsuki managed to spill
"oh! i didn't expect that" you giggled thinking that was a cute way to invite someone to hang out. "sure. i provide the notes, you provide the milkshakes." you extended your hand "deal?"
he smirked satisfied shaking you hand.
"deal."
#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou x fem!reader#self insert#mha fluff#mha fanfiction#bakugou fluff#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha x reader#katsuki bakugo x y/n#bakugo x reader#my hero academia
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Sorry I just came up with another idea for family day! Marja and sebeks grandfather Baal just end up talking about how proud they are of their grandkids after Marja comes up to Sebek to ask how he's been since the harveston race
APPLEPOM SEBEK MY BELOVED đ¤Ą
Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.
"My, is that Sebek-san I see over there?"
The voice that met his ears was like molasses. Slow and sweet, like an apple slowly roasted over a fire until it was mushy and caramelized in the center. He had last heard it in a frigid little backwater village.
In Harveston.
âMarja?â Sebek gaped at the sight of her hunched next to Epel in a knitted sweater. He had determined some time ago that she reminded him of a snowman. Everything about her was friendly and round--face, nose, cheeks. Seeing her again only confirmed that thought.
His confusion rapidly morphed into a massive smile. He charged at the elderly woman, throwing his arms around her with the strength of a bear's embrace. âMARJA!!â
"Oof, you've got a strong grip on ya!" the elderly woman chuckled, slapping him hard on the back. "How've you been? Been eatin' well?"
"Yes, ma'am!!"
"Hahah, that's good!" Marja pulled away, resting her hands on Sebek's shoulders. "Everyone in Harvestonâs been missing you! They keep asking when youâll visit again. Having a strapping young farm hand like you around took a load off their shoulders."
"M-Meemaw, you don't have to tell him that," Epel hissed. "Sorry, Sebek-kun... You've, uh... sort of become a local celebrity."
"Ohoh, have I now?" He smirked. "Have you not yet discovered an alternative to lighten your workload? It's impractical for you feeble-bodied humans to carry out the same tasks I assisted you with in the Sledathon season--"
"Sebek."
A gruff voice reminiscent of crackling thunder called his name. At once, he straightened like a soldier greeting his sergeant.
Epel gawked at the older man that approached. He resembled Sebek in many ways--his wild hair, slicked back, a deeper shade of green, slit-shaped pupils, and tall and well-muscled, with a stern aura. His beard was neatly trimmed, and scales dotted the periphery of his rugged face.
Wow, so manly...! So cool...!
"You are acquainted with these humans?â The older man boomed.
âY-Yes, grandfather!â Sebek gestured to the Felmiers. âThis is Marja, the grandmother of my peer, Epel. She is a well-respected figure in their home village, as well as our kind hostess for the Sledathon. As for Epel, he was our team leader and trainer."
His grandfather squinted hard at Epel. âI thought Night Raven College was an all-BOYS school.â
"E-Eh..." Epel visibly tensed, his left eye twitching with the effort it took to restrain himself from flying off the handle. "I'm every bit of a man as Sebek-kun is...!"
Marja laughed. "They call him the Poison Apple of the Felmier family back home! Our Epel's small, but he's a real fighter."
He didn't look impressed.
Sebek hastily intervened.
"Epel, Marja--this is my grandfather, Baur." He puffed his chest out on instinct. "Though he is retired now, he served as the second-in-command to Briar Valley's famed General of the Right! You should be honored to be in his presence!"
"... I don't know what any of that means, but it sounds like you're awfully important. Still, none of that means you can strut around like a rooster and insultin' my Epel."
"Hmph! Enlighten me then, human. What exactly is your grandson capable of?"
"Epel's in the Magift Club. He wears the school colors and zips around on that broom of his, bashin' up the enemy team! No one in Harveston is as skilled as Epel is with a fruit carving knife. And he used to scoff at them city folks. Now heâs got so many friends. His unique magic too! Heâs grown so much ever since cominâ to school. Weâre so proud of him.â
"Well, Sebek receives top marks in every subject! Not only that, but he maintains a strict training regimen while also tending to his duties as Malleus-sama's retainer. He spends every waking moment of every day dedicating himself to honing his skills to best serve in knighthood! He is the pride and joy of the Zigvolt clan!!"
Marja covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide open. "Sebek-san does all of that! What an impressive lad."
"Yes, yes, his efforts are truly commendable..." Baur cut himself off, abruptly dropping his triumphant cheer. "W-Wait one moment, why are you, a lowly, unrelated human, praising MY grandson?!"
"What're ya on 'bout?" Her kindly old face had tightened into a sour expression. A thicker version of the Harveston accent spilled from her. "There ain't no rules 'bout who can ân can't say nice things 'bout folks' gran'kids!"
"Such impudence!!" Baur folded his arms, exhaling sharply through his nose. "I've remained impartial until now, but... The overly familiar tone you take with Sebek is irksome. You act as though you are--" he grimaced, "--friends, solely because you happened to house him on one occasion. Do not be so presumptuous!! Be cognizant of your position as a mere human."
"H-Hey, you can't speak to my meemaw like that! And you insulted our Harveston hospitality too...!" Epel protested, stepping in front of his grandma. "Watch your mouth or I'll wallop ya right in it!"
"Bah! I would like to see you try."
"P-Please wait, grandfather!"
Sebek wedged himself between Baur and the Felmiers. His broad body almost entirely shielded Epel and Marja from view--though Baur's shadow still loomed over him. Steeling himself, Sebek stood his ground and met his grandfather's intense gaze.
"Though you may not find any merit in their efforts, I... I cannot say the same for myself!" Sebek's voice trembled as he strained to get the words out. "You are aware of our tribe's aversion to the cold, and of my great appetite. Marja and Epel did not simply do the bare minimum for me as their guest!
"The community provided us with warm clothes to protect against the cold, handmade and tailored to our exact sizes. Not only that, but we were never left wanting for sustenance. There is a wealth of Harveston specialty dishes we indulged in. Their entire culture is predicated on that sense of togetherness. They are eager to share their culture and traditions with their neighbors as well as with travelers. To be so willing to open one's heart to complete strangers... I believe that is admirable!"
"Wh-What...?!" Baur stared at Sebek as though his grandson had just decked him in the face. "What are you saying?! Are you... defending these humans?!"
"A knight's creed states that he must protect the weak and the helpless. I am simply living up to that code!"
"Sebek-kun..."
Marja silently grasped Epel's arm--a warning to leave it be.
Baur frowned deeply.
Those defiant eyes... I recognize them. They're the same as my daughter's.
The daughter that had defied his wishes and gone and married a human man. Many long, tense nights spent screaming and pleading and bargaining, to please reconsider, to shut the ridiculous idea down.
"You're making a grave mistake."
"I refuse to bless your union."
"Humans and fae can never be together. It is a delusion--a fantasy!"
But she took after his stubbornness and refused to listen to reason.
"You're far too optimistic, daughter. Humans took away so much from us. Our land, our resources, our princess. And yet you can find it in yourself to forgive them so easily?!"
âI love my husband. I love our children. I love the life I have with them. Human or fae.. what does it matter what we are, so long as we have that feeling that connects us? To love is not to be fae or to be human. Love is universal so I will tell you every day, father. I will remind you again and again⌠until the time comes when you can accept our marriage with a smile."
Baur furrowed his brow. Humans and fae, together? I do not understand. Is this the future that has been decided for us?
His heart throbbed painfully, aching at the thought. Confusion, betrayal--tinged with a dash of glowing pride. That's my grandson.
"... You take after your mother," Baur managed. "Always the type to state their mind, even in the face of dissent."
"Yeah, that sounds like Sebek-kun alright..." Epel grumbled.
âHMMMM?!â Baurâs attention suddenly snapped to the young boy. Epel jolted backâbut it was pointless. The older man weaved around Sebek and quickly advanced on him. âWhat did you just say?â
âTh-That it sounds like Sebek-kunâŚ?â Epel meekly repeated. âWe have some classes together, so⌠He argues with the teachers and refuses to help in group projectsâŚâ
âSo you know of his academic exploits,â Baur concluded, gripping his shoulders. âThen you must tell me all about them!â
âHUH?! I wouldnât call those examples of exploitsâŚâ Epel paled, turning white as snow. He worriedly glanced at Marja and Sebek. âU-Um⌠a little help here?!â
âWhatâcha bellyachinâ for? This man spat on what we represent as folks from Harveston!â his grandma huffed. âShow him how tough you are, Epel! KILL HIM WITH KINDNESS, YA HEAR ME?!â
âMarja is right! You must demonstrate your own strengths to my grandfather. Prove to him that you are worthy of calling yourself my classmate!!â Sebek bellowed.
âBoth of ya ainât helpinâ one apple-pickinâ bit!!â
âEnough stalling, tiny human!! You WILL report to me this instant!â
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Sebek Zigvolt#Epel Felmier#Marja Felmier#Baur Zigvolt#NRC Family Day#harveston sledathon spoilers#sebek applepom vignette spoilers#book 7 spoilers#twst interactions#twisted wonderland interactions#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland scenarios
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Just read the museum marquis fic and I love it. I wonder what would a fanfic where the marquis de gramont met a ballerina reader?
Poetry in Motion
Pairing: Marquis de Gramont x fem! Reader
Warnings: mild language
Summary: A tall and handsome man has been watching you preform for a while. What will happen when he finally chooses to introduce himself?
Word Count: 2.5k
I got multiple reqs for this! So, here ya go! Enjoy!
âYouâre late Y/N!â
I dashed into the locker room, tossing my bag atop the dressing room counter.
âI know! I know! Iâm really sorry! My apartment door wouldnât lock and there was traffic and then-â
My director held up a hand, silencing me.
âI donât care. Please-just, be ready to go by showtime.â
I nodded vigorously.
âYes, yes, of course. I will be ready, I promise.â
She quickly turned on her heels and began walking in the opposite direction. Her blue dress swayed gently as the dancers rushed around her. Her spine was straight, her posture rigid.
I donât blame her. I'm just as nervous as everyone else to see how this performance goes. Unfortunately, I'm a dancer, so rigid posture isn't ideal. I'm forced to keep my anxiety bottled up inside my head.
âY/N.â
My friend called my name, jolting me from my trance. She was fully dressed, with a full face of makeup. She stared at me, completely stunned.
âY/N, you better hurry! Everyone else is ready to go!â
I moved rapidly, quickly opening my makeup bag, praying I had enough time.
âWhat took you so long?â
I slapped my palms against the table, annoyed.
âOh, Clara, itâs been such an aggravating day.â
I stared at my reflection, watching as the foundation completely coated my face.
âDo tell.â
I took out my eye makeup.
âWell, first my apartment wouldnât lock.â
I closed one eye and applied eyeshadow as quickly as I could.
âMy key wouldnât work! And of course I couldnât just leave my apartment unlocked so I had to bother my neighbor to get the spare key I gave her.â
I moved on to the other eye.
âThen there was so much traffic. Then I couldnât find a good parking spot because I got here so late. Then I had to walk almost six blocks.â
My eye makeup looked... alright. Sure, if I had an extra hour, I could make it look fantastic. But, due to my unfortunate situation, I had to settle for average.
âWow girl, thatâs rough. Iâm sorry.â
I pulled out my blush.
âWell, if it makes you feel any better, I think that cute guy will be here tonight.â
I scoffed loudly.
âHeâs always here. If he goes four days without seeing a ballet, just assume heâs dead.â
Oh my goodness, that blush color was really clashing with my eyeshadow. Shit! I didn't have time to remove it and start over. Perhaps I could just add another color to my eyes, creating a strange hybrid color that would blend well with the blush.
âI donât know Y/N. Iâve been here longer than you, and he only started going regularly once you got here.â
I rolled my eyes.
âYeah, right. Itâs probably just a coincidence. I doubt heâd spend a shit ton of money on fancy ballet tickets just to see some pretty girl dance.â
I watched Clara shrug from the corner of my eye.
âI dunno. He always dresses like heâs ready to meet the queen, and he sits in a box. He doesnât seem short on funds. He definitely could be the type to buy ballet tickets just to admire you.â
Okay, the blush and eyeshadow looked fine. I could handle "fine." I could work with "fine.â
âI donât know Clara. You know, when you watch a performance, faces and names blend together because there are so many people on stage. I doubt he picked me out of the crowd and decided I was going to become the object of his affection.â
I put on some red lipstick, trying not to be distracted by the fact that all the dancers I saw in the mirror were fully prepared.
âBesides, a handsome man like that?... he probably has a girlfriend.â
Clara perked up.
âOh, so you admit you think heâs handsome.â
I rolled my eyes for a second time.
âI mean, come on Clara, look at him!â
Clara let out a loud and obnoxious laugh. My face turned hot. Thankfully, the makeup covered most of the natural pink that had begun to appear on my cheeks.
âOh my God you have a little crush on him, donât you!â
I held up my hands in defense.
âI am not having this conversation right now!â
I stood, rushing over to the costume rack.
âIâve never seen him with a girl Y/N! I think heâs single and ready to mingle!â
Claraâs loud voice drew some attention. I swiveled on my heels and placed a finger to my lips.
âSh!â
-
The show was finished, and the final bows were taken.
The roar of the crowd washed over me like a wave. I was moved to know that they were all applauding for this performance. As the entire company gathered for one final bow, I observed the crowd's faces contort into bright smiles. I felt moved knowing that at least one person in the audience was thinking about what a wonderful job I did tonight.
I hoped it was the man whose appearance I had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.
The gold theater sparkled. The red seats gradually vanished as people rose to pay their respects to the performers.
I was unable to avoid glancing around at the various people in the crowd. I started in the box seats, hoping to spot a tall man with a penchant for fashion.
No luck.
My gaze was drawn to the floor seats. I scanned them all as quickly as I could. Maybe he sat closer? If he truly came to see me, it wouldn't hurt to get the best view possible in the front row.
No luck.
I'm not sure why I was so desperate for him to be here. Nonetheless, I felt my heart sink slightly as I considered the possibility that he missed tonight's performance.
We finished with a company bow. We waved goodbye, and quickly scattered off the stage.
âY/N!â
Clara exclaimed as we walked back to the dressing rooms.
âYou did so well! Jesus, I thought for sure youâd be all scattered from coming in late, but you really pulled it off well!â
I didn't notice her hands cutting through the air as she spoke. I didn't even bother looking at her. I kept my head down, stuffing various cosmetics into my black backpack.
âThanks Clara.â
I said flatly.
âAlright, whatâs going on? Whoâs got you bummed?â
I grit my teeth.
âHeâs not here tonight.â
Clara leaned in.
âWhat did you say?â
âI said heâs not here tonight!â
I snapped involuntarily. Clara retreated.
âWoah woah, how do you know this?â
âI didnât see him in the crowd.â
Clara furrowed her brow.
âCome on Y/N, thereâs thousands of people in that crowd! Thereâs no way you couldâve checked every seat for him!â
My lips were pursed. Clara wrapped her hands around my shoulders, soothing me. She leaned into my ear, lowering her voice to a whisper.
âI bet he showed up tonight. And if he didnât, it was his loss entirely.â
-
The cold Paris air bit at my exposed skin. The chill penetrated my tank top, chilling me to the bone. I drew the sides of my peacoat together, attempting to conceal my torso and thighs from the wind.
I began to stroll, trying to enjoy the lovely Paris evening despite the fact that so much was less than ideal.
After about thirty paces, I was struck by an uneasy sense that someone was watching me. I initially ignored it. There were numerous high-rise apartment buildings. I'm sure that feeling came from being a window away from someone's living space, and the possibility that someone was watching me inadvertently.
I couldn't shake the feeling even after another thirty paces. The buildings in this particular neighborhood were completely dark. That is, everyone was sleeping, and if anyone was watching me, it probably would go unnoticed by bystanders.
I took a peek over my shoulder to ensure my intuition was correct.
About thirty feet behind me was a tall, lanky man in a black coat.
Alright, probably just a coincidence-
Wait.
I did a double take.
Holy shit.
It was the guy from the ballet!
This all is just one big coincidence.
I kept my head down, trying to maintain my composure.
His footsteps became audible. I focused on them, noticing that they were becoming slightly louder with every step.
Shit.
Shit!
God, this guy is a total creep! How could I be so stupid?!
Iâm about to get totally kidnapped!
I started to move faster, trying to appear calm despite being aware that my heart was pounding in my ears. My blood rushed to my heart, leaving my face pale and cold.
God, heâs getting closer!
Jesus my stomach is in knots!
âDonât look so frightened, darling.â
The manâs velvety accent pierced the air like a knife. My heart jumped.
Iâm fucked.
âReally, I just want to talk with you.â
No way in hell was I stopping. My calves burned. My eyes were wide. My hands trembled within my pockets.
My chest came into contact with something solid. I stumbled back, looking up.
Oh my goodness, he was right in front of me.
How did he get there without me hearing?
The heat left my body.
I stood, wide eyed and perplexed.
The man's neutral gaze softened as he noticed my anxiety.
âI am very sorry to have frightened you, madame. I am simply a fan wishing to pay my respects.â
He placed a hand on his chest.
âI promise, I mean no harm. There is no reason to be frightened.â
He was considerably taller than me. In two seconds, he could pick me up and throw me into the back of a shady white van.
Nonetheless, his luxurious accent and courteous eyes made me believe he was telling the truth. So I allowed myself to relax ever so slightly.
âDid you come and see the show tonight?â
A smirk played on the corners of his lips.
âBut of course. It would be foolish of me to disregard the opportunity to observe such talent.â
Wow, I'm going to give credit where credit is due. Heâs a smooth talker. He speaks with such elegance. I'm unable to ignore his words. With bated breath, I await each sentence.
âWell, that is very kind of you to say.â
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black overcoat, shrugging nonchalantly.
âI only convey the complete truth. In my lifetime, I have seen hundreds of ballets, operas, and plays. It is uncommon to find such a passion for the arts in the hearts of the prefromers. Few people allow creativity to encompass every aspect of them. But, I have noticed fire within you.â
He glanced deeply into my eyes, as if he wanted to capture some of the "fire" within me and preserve it for himself.
âI can tell by the way you dance and command the stage.â
The gentle breeze rustled the end of his overcoat as his pale eyes shone in the pale moonlight. He exuded a sense of mystery that beckoned me to embrace the unknown.
âYour blood runs red with creativity.â
He came to a halt, his piercing gaze catching my lips before darting back to my eyes.
âAnd, your beauty is unmatched.â
Forget about my face being cold; it was now scorching hot. I just hope I kept enough blush on my cheeks to hide the natural pink.
He extends his leg, the buckle of his pricey loafer catching the moonlight. He steps closer, the wonderful aroma of whiskey and bergamot wafting into my nose. The scent cloud muffles my brain, making me dizzy with anticipation.
âHow long have you been dancing for?â
I raise my eyebrows.
âOh, well, my entire life. I started the moment I could walk and Iâve pretty much been in the dance studio everyday since.â
The enigmatic man nodded, pleased with my response. I took my hands from my pockets, as they were sweating despite the chill.
âAnd⌠Do you enjoy it?â
I nodded vigorously.
âYes, I remember, um-.â
I took a deep breath, careful not to trip over my words and reveal that my heart was racing.
âI remember my first official dance class. I was- about four or five.â
I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat.
âAll the kids were complaining. I mean, yâknow, at that age it basically is just an excuse for the parents to get their obnoxious kids out of the house.â
He chuckled.
Yes!
âBut I never complained, not once. I loved it from the start. And, itâs completely consumed my life since then.â
He took another step forward. The distance between us was almost non-existent now. To meet his gaze, I had to almost completely crane my neck back.
âI can tell. You donât just dance, you float over the stage. It really is beautiful to watch.â
His voice dropped to a sultry whisper.
âYou are beautiful to watch.â
My stomach flipped.
My breath caught in my throat as he cupped my face with his hand. His grip was gentle, as if he were coddling a baby bird.
My mind was empty, a void waiting to be filled by him.
He exhaled deeply, a breath fanning over my face. I instinctively leaned into him, craving his warmth, craving his scent, cravingâŚ
Him.
He ran his calloused thumb along my cheekbone. My face was burning. I knew he could feel it beneath his palm.
He grinned.
âYou have a very bright future in the arts. Paris is only the beginning.â
I could sense the tension rising. I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for something magnificent to unfold.
A hug?
A proclamation of love?
A kiss?
âI hope and pray that you will allow me to be an integral component of your bright future.â
He slipped something into my empty pocket sneakily. He smiled broadly. My heart skipped a beat. His smile was enticing, so simple yet so effective.
âCall me, Ma chère.â
He took a step back, turned, and began to stroll away. My shoulders loosened. My chest gave way. My cheeks had lost their warmth. The tension had been released.
I could breathe.
I could think.
âWait!â
I shouted. He glanced over his shoulder.
His figure looked very intriguing. Most of his ridges and curves were hidden by his long coat. It enticed one to venture into uncharted territories.
âWhatâs your name?â
He scoffed.
âWhen you call, I will tell you.â
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For a Good Time, Call⌠(epilogue)
summary: the future
warnings: brief mention of some sexy times but thatâs about it
a/n: something small to round off this little series
word count: 732
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
-
You wake up to the feeling of being watched.
A jarring prospect for anyone at seven in the morning, but itâs something youâve gotten used to over the years.
When you first moved in together, Leah had a very strange habit of watching you sleep. The first time you caught her doing it you acted out of pure instinct and socked her square in the face.
In your defense, it was early and you were half asleep. What else were you supposed to do when youâve got a blurry shape leaning over you at the ass crack of dawn? Let yourself be murdered? You think not.
Her reasoning, you soon found out, was actually very sweet. She explained that she often woke up before you, unable to believe that someone as wonderful as you could actually be lying beside her. So, she would watch you sleep, just to reassure herself that you were real and that this life you shared together was not just a dream.
Youâll keep what happened after that to yourself.
Ah fuck it, you railed her into the mattress and gave her a limp she couldnât shake for three days.
OlĂŠ!
Then there is Gus. Asparagus, for long. The beagle the pair of you got in year two of cohabitation.
You read a study a while back that told you that dogs behavioural habits actually tend to mirror those of their owners. And Gus was no different.
Heâs impatient, has a serious case of fomo, and has a penchant to stand over your unconscious body and stare at you until you wake up.
Thank you very much Leah for your service.
His actions are purely food-motivated though, a trait you canât fault him for. Gone are the days of oversleeping, for if you miss breakfast, youâre sure to wake up to the accusing brown eyes of Sir. Asparagus, silently reminding you of your responsibilities.
So with Leahâs side of the bed empty, and the unexpected lack of a cold snout poking into your forehead, that leaves only one option left.
âWhat are you doing up so early, Stinker?â
âMumâs in the kitchenâ comes the casual reply from your five-year-old.
Now that is a cause for concern.
Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you process Hazelâs words. Leah in the kitchen at this hour? Itâs a rare occurrence, and one that usually spells trouble.
âYour motherâs in the kitchen?â you repeat, a note of surprise coloring your tired voice.
Hazel nods, her expression serious. âYep, she said something about making pancakesâ
You share a troubled glance with your daughter, both of you silently acknowledging the potential disaster imminently looming in the kitchen.
âWe better go check on herâ you say, taking a deep breath and swinging your legs out of bed. âWouldnât want her to burn down the house, would we?â
-
Just as you expected, Leah is cooking unsupervised. Well, Gus is there, but heâs more akin to a hoover than any form of qualified sous chef.
Youâll let him off. He doesnât have opposable thumbs.
âGood morningâ you say through a yawn as you pass over the threshold, Hazel trudging in behind you, her bare feet slapping on the tile.
âMorning gorgeousâ she says automatically, then stills before she swivels on the spot. âWait, what are you doing out of bed?â
âA little birdy told me you needed reinforcementsâ you tell her as you kiss her on the cheek, precariously eyeing the spitting oil and batter from over her shoulder.
Leahâs eyes slide over to Hazel who has perched herself at the kitchen island. âWhat happened to letting your ma sleep, hazelnut?â She chides.
âIâm fineâ you insist, flipping a pancake on your wifeâs behalf. âWeâre fineâ
Leah arches an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she glances between you and Hazel. âYouâre sure about that?â she asks, her tone unconvinced. âYou know, youâre not supposed to be doing all the heavy lifting around hereâ
You chuckle, and turn the gas off now all pancakes are stacked on their respective plates. âI know, I know,â you reply, waving off her worries. âBut Iâve got it under control. Besides, Iâm actually looking forward to eating food thatâs not crematedâ
âSameâ
Leah turns towards her daughter again, âhey you! Whatâs gotten into you this morning?â
âHungryâ she shrugs. And you canât blame her, youâve been ravenous for months.
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#awfc#awfc x reader#engwnt#engwnt x reader#woso#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso community
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