#y all just know snow drops her after
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
shrimparts-blog888 · 11 months ago
Note
Would you mind drawing a disaster lesbian couple between the Evil Queen and Snow White? (E.A.H.) 👁️👁️
Tumblr media
232 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months ago
Note
Ok but can you imagine if bombshell!reader who is pregnant does fall down somewhere?? Everyone, Spencer very much so, freaks out and she tries to play it off cool even though she’s really sore. She and baby are ok but she and Spencer are definitely shaken up by this and he’s even more hover-y from this 😭🥲
ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader falling and panicking lovely bf spencer, 1.3k
“We’re like, the dream team,” you say, sewing your arm through the crook of Spencer’s. He’s trying to zip up your jacket, which is difficult given the ever-growing curve of your stomach. With one arm, it’s hopeless. 
“We are,” he murmurs obligingly, thinking about how cold it is outside and how you’ve yet to give in to the ‘ugly-fest’ of maternity clothes at work. It’s a shame. You look adorable in them at home. “Maybe you should put on your hoodie.” 
“It’s fine, it’s like, three steps between the station and the hotel.” You smile at him. He loves your eyes, your lashes, and he forgets to be stern. 
“Let’s go, then.” He waves at Emily where she’s chatting with an officer. “You ready?” he asks. 
Penelope pops her head out of the office with her laptop bag tucked under her arm. “Let’s go home, my chickens.” 
You and Spencer devolve into one of your murmured conversations, giggling, pressed arm to arm as you and the team emerge from the warmth of the police station and into the cold winter air. It’s sub zero outside, Spencer’s sure, wanting to get you back out of the elements as quickly as possible. 
He takes the steps first and holds out his hand a few beneath. Emily laughs, says, “He’s so chivalrous,” to Penelope’s delight. 
“He’s always been our gentleman,” Penelope says. 
You look eager to agree. “He’s my prince,” you tease gently, taking his hand, leaning just a little too far forward. 
Your foot slips out from underneath you with a sound like a knife scraping the snow. You fall hard and fast, and the horror is that your one leg trips more than the other and you end up slamming flat on your side. 
Spencer has you up again before the slush can so much as wet your clothes, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes go wider than he’s ever seen them and your lips struggle down into an immediate frown, a wobbly expression, alarm in your voice as you say, “Oh, woah.” 
“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” Penelope asks, she and Spencer rushing down to the bottom of the steps to meet you. 
“Sit her down, Spencer,” Emily says quickly, not scornful or anything but her concern turning her tone hard. 
“It’s wet,” he says, as his head bubbles up with horrible statistics. 
“Spencer,” you say tightly, “I’m fine.” 
You don’t look fine. He yanks his suit jacket off and drops it to the floor, a write off, he and Penelope encouraging you to sit on the bottom step. Your eyes are filled with tears, he suspects from panic and pain at once, and he doesn’t really know what to do in this situation for a second, he has to think back. It’s hard to think and hold your hands at the same time. 
“It’s okay,” he says, enthusing his voice with false pep. 
“What should we do?” Penelope asks, quicker to panic than the rest of you. 
Spencer bends down in front of you. You’re the only person that matters in that moment. “What hurts?” he asks, hand hovering over your side. “Does anything hurt?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe out, before shaking your head, “What about–” You cut yourself off. “Yeah.” 
Spencer takes your wrist. “I’m gonna call Dr. Cordell right now. Okay? Just as a precaution. That’s what you’re supposed to do, okay?” 
“I think I hurt my hip,” you say smally. 
With some help from the girls, Spencer gets you back to the hotel. He calls your doctor, and they decide to get you an emergency check up with an antenatal doctor he knows while you’re still out of state. It feels less panicky and more dread while you wait, but the appointment goes well, and you’re given the all clear a few hours after your fall. 
You’re uncharacteristically quiet at the hotel. Spencer asks if you’re alright and you say, “Of course,” while he spends the rest of the evening watching you wince. 
It’s getting ready for bed where he finally gets you to crack for him. You’re not expecting to be sore, that much is clear, and you’re bashful asking for his help. “I can’t get my shirt over my head,” you say from the bathroom, with no need to shout. He can hear you from his not so casual seat at the foot of the bed. 
He lost his tie a few hours ago, and his suit jacket lays soggy in a plastic bag on top of his suitcase. He rolls his sleeves up as he eases into the small bathroom, eyes dropping to the naked bump of your stomach where your shirt is pooled. You have a yellowy bruise taking form on your hip. Another on your bump, like the lines of the stone steps. 
“Angel,” he murmurs, fingers glancing over the bruise gently. 
“Doesn’t hurt.” 
“You don’t have to lie.” 
You poke him. “Help me get changed, handsome.” You laugh at your demanding. “Please help me get changed.” 
“So rude,” he says. 
He grabs the ends of your shirt and pulls it up your back and over the back of your head so as to not agitate your cut up elbow again. You sigh as he pulls it clean, leaving you shirtless and gorgeous in the bathroom, despite all your worrying. He should tell you. He can’t not tell you, really. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, taking your shoulders into his hands. 
“Even with the baby weight?” you ask. 
He rubs your arm. “You’ve never been this beautiful.” 
“Oh, no, don’t say that.” You cover his arm with yours, hand over his, fingers intertwining loosely. 
“You’re always…” He leans down. He’d been about to stop himself, but he continues, lips just an inch from yours, the two of you eye to eye. “Beautiful. I’m sorry about today, it was my fault.” 
“It was my fault.” 
“I should’ve been more careful, I knew it was cold enough for frost.” 
“I should’ve been more careful,” you say, frowning at him indignantly, “I know how fragile I am right now and I’m not being careful enough.” 
“You slipped,” he argues. It could only be an accident.
“What if she felt it?” you whisper. 
Spencer was trying to assuage your fears and he’d been planning on a kiss, but a hug feels more important in that moment, a careful loop of his arms under yours. His few inches of height over you are especially helpful in steering clear of your stomach. “She didn’t feel it, Y/N, I promise. You took the fall for her, and the doctor said everything is just fine. She didn’t even know it was happening, I swear.” 
You let out a long, slow breath. You nod into his should after a few moments. “Okay. Thank you for picking me back up, Spence.” 
“That was impressive, right?” 
You poke him some more as you let the entirety of your weight slouch into his front. “You’re quite impressive, Reid. I felt the muscle.” You kiss his neck, voice dropping to a murmur, “I’m okay.” He hasn’t realised how badly he needed reassurance too. 
“I know.” 
“Sorry if I was dramatic,” you say. 
“Dramatic?” he laughs, thumb on your neck drawing shapes. “You tried to tell me you were fine. That’s the opposite of dramatic.” 
“…Maybe I should slow down some. Maybe. Take some days off.” 
Spencer kisses the top of your head. “That could be nice. You’ve been bouncing around for months. We could just spend a couple of days laying down, right? You can try out some of those maternity pyjamas you’re so reluctant to wear.” 
“Why’d you buy so many?” 
“I’m trying to take care of you. I thought I’d finally be allowed,” he says. 
Your voice turns to a whisper. “You always take care of me, Spence. You really do.” 
2K notes · View notes
targaryenluvs · 1 year ago
Note
i have a request for an angsty scenario where coryo and reader are together and at the bombing in the arena instead of going to reader he goes to protect lucy gray and reader has to be saved by the peacekeepers or one of her classmates.
WORTH IT
Tumblr media
pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray (suspected), sejanus plinth x fem!reader (suspected)
summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.
warnings: angsty angst, yelling, mentions of cheating, crying, miscommunication and misconceptions
a/n: we do not condone the villainization of lucy gray in this house no ma’am - i think i’m horrid at angst so bare w me please
the roof was crumbling.
the bomb had blown you miles away from where you once stood and your body was aching. the rubble surrounded you and the only person your eyes were searching for was corio.
a flash of red and yellowy blonde darted towards the array of rainbows, lucy and corio.
you were forced to watch on as he tried his hardest to move aside the rubble that was crushing her, and not you. you were lying a few metres away yet his first observation was her, and his mind was on her, his hands too as he dragged her out from underneath.
his face was twisted in, anguish? confusion? he looked at lucy gray as if she was the oddest thing in the world before his eyes drifted to you, then behind you as sejanus pulled you out from underneath.
and as you were about to thank your friend the world faded from your grasp, heaving breaths and the sound of someone shouting your name being the last thing you hear.
the beeping was irritating you.
you thanked the machine for keeping you steady but god did it drive into your skull. as you opened your eyes, corio invaded your space, clutching your face in his hands and he worriedly looked over you, “are you okay? does it hurt? i’m so sorry i thought lucy was you i didn’t- i just saw her hair and- i’m so sorry y/n.” corio rambled as you scoffed. getting up you saw the room was empty, “your parents are outside, so is tigris and sejanus.”
you brushed him off as you approached the tv screen infront of you. lucy. and god did she look amazing. donations were pouring in and all of a sudden you understood why corio seemed so adamant on being with her, helping her. she was a gorgeous songbird and you were a dull capitol parrot. nothing special.
“she looks amazing coriolanus. i hope you win with her.” you spoke softly as your eyes began to tear up at the thought of him leaving you. “hey- i’m doing what we’re all doing, nothing more and nothing less. i’m trying to win here y/n/n, you know i need this more than anyone else.” you sighed, “i know, do what you must.”
corios eyebrows furrowed as you made your back to the bed but not before corio reached out for you. “hey, i’m sorry. you have no idea how scared i was when the bomb went off. the first thing i wanted to do was make sure you were okay but i didn’t have enough time to make sure the person i was going after was the right one. i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll make it up to you. and i promise, you are the one that i want. lucy please.”
was that the sound of your heart breaking?
you raised your head up high, trying to stop the tears from dropping as coriolanus was for once, at a loss for words. you turned around and smiled, “have a nice time with her corio. three years of us down the drain for district 12 scum. she probably doesn’t even love you, wonder what she’ll do when you slip up.”
“and what’re you going to do? crawl to sejanus?”
and as he stuttered, trying to come up with an apology, your eyes teared up again you came to a decision.
he wasn’t worth it.
2K notes · View notes
wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago
Note
ooooh a fic where reader and Tom reacts to the tiktok edits of them pls✨
Internet Boyfriend || Tom Blyth x Actress!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/n: I LOVE THIS HAHAHHAHA also yes, I did add the links to the tiktok edits 😋
Warnings: none :)
Wc:
Tumblr media
Divider by @pommecita
“First of all, congratulations on satisfying this fan of the original series,” The women points to herself, “Thats what we like to hear,” You smile, “Like this film is epic! But uh we need to all about something really really serious first,” You nod, anticipating the questioning.
“Y/n,” You eyebrows shoot up as you tilt your head, “Do you think Tom is ready,” You and Tom look at each other, “to become the internet’s boyfriend? Cause I don’t think he realises what’s about to happen,” Tom looks taken aback as he looks at you.
“I’ve been saying this for so long too!” You meet Tom’s gaze, “I did not expect that question,” He shakes his head lightly laughing. “Beyond the internet boyfriend, it’s just he gives such a beautiful performance in this film and after our first premiere in Berlin, I grabbed his face in the car on the way back to the hotel and I just bawled my eyes out to him, remember that?” You look to him, a smile on your face.
“Yep,” He chuckles, looking down, “Because as an actor and his girlfriend I was just so proud to witness the rise of Tom Blyth in movie making, it’s such a beautiful thing and there’s no one more deserving out there, truly.” You say in appreciation as you and Tom lock eyes.
He puts his hand on his heart, “Thank you,” He says, truly moved by what you said, “That’s so sweet of you,” You lean your head against his shoulder and his arm wraps around your shoulder. “You’re welcome,” You say to him, looking up as you place a light kiss on his jawline.
“Both your performance is honestly just spectacular, I love the two of you, I wish I was there in person to witness it,” She jokes as you all laugh along with her. “Another thing I wanted to ask, specifically aimed to you Tom,” He looks at the women expectantly.
“The girls on tiktok are loving it already, are you ready,” Tom scratches the back of his neck, “Oh God,” As you already start laughing knowing where she was going with this question, “Are you ready for the Snow thirst edits? How do you feel about them,” It’s silent for a few seconds as Tom looks at the floor, a smile on his face.
“It’s begun babe,” You squeeze his arm. “Uh- I’m not on tiktok and I try to stay off online, as much as possible, uhm which is difficult these days- but I don’t see them often until people send them to me- So stop sending them” Tom looks at the camera as you throw your head back, losing it already as you laugh.
“As someone who has tiktok and thoroughly enjoy the edits of the movie, I do send them to Tom-“ “You send them all the time! It’s embarrassinga” You both intertwine hands and laugh out loud. “I don’t really send you the thirst trap ones, mostly just the ones about how blue your eyes are and how great of an actor you are,”
“Well speaking of it, we actually have a few thirst traps of you Tom, lined up for you to react to,” Tom drops his head as you start giggling, “Oh my god,” “Here we go,” You say in as you watch a crew member past you an IPad.
“Oh dear god, this video is going to turn into a try not to cringe challenge video with y/n and Tom reacting to Coryo” You sigh as you watch the first tiktok which is of Tom as Snow. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNC4EmV8/
You immediately smile knowing you have already seen this tiktok. The interviewer starts laughing as you both watch Tom’s reaction to it. “I must say, It’s very good,” Tom admits, “This tiktok has 5.4 million views, and everyone is saying that this is the Coriolanus snow edit,” She says as you click on the comment section and read through the comments.
“I agree that is the Coriolanus snow edit aswell,” You chuckle. “Okay next one,” You say as Tom groans beside you, already very much embarrassed. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNCVJCRX/
Your jaw immediately starts to drop upon hearing the audio. Tom covers his eyes as you and the interviewer laugh. “I love the beginning!” You say in between laughs, “Wait what was the beginning?” Tom asks, “Did you not watch it?”
“I covered my eyes the second I heard my voice,” He admits with a silly grin on his face as you shake your head and rewatch it. “Oh, I see,” He rubs his chin as you watch the next one. “Oh I’ve seen this one!” Tom says as you both rewatch it. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNCVkrxh/
“I’ve always told Tom that everyone obsesses when he says Snow lands on top,” “Yes! The fans go crazy!” The woman laughs along as Tom looks uncomfortable. “Tom say it,” You nudge him as he gives you the ‘don’t make me do it’ look as you give him your puppy eyes, “fine,” He huffs.
He clears his throat as a joke before staring into the camera, “Snow lands on top,” He says in an insanely attractive voice as you fake faint. “Watch them edit this too,” You point out, “Please no,” He covers his face in embarrassment as you pat his back, silently laughing.
“This one, is one my favs actually,” The woman says as she shows you and Tom the tiktok. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNC4wS5J/ You both crack up at the ending as actual tears started forming in Tom’s eyes. “Oh my god he’s crying,” You slap his thigh as you lean over in your chair from laughter.
After a good 5 minutes the two of you calm down. “For the next one, Y/n you can just go ahead and search up Tom Blyth on TikTok and pick whatever tiktok you want him to react to,” Your eyes lit up at the offer and you hurriedly take the iPad from Tom’s lap and type his name. Tom leans over to look at the iPad as you hide it from him, a mischievous glint in your eyes that he knows all too well.
You take your time as your scroll before one catches your eye. You watch it and your jaw immediately drops open. “What is it?” Tom says impatiently as your eyes flicker from Tom to the woman. “I don’t know if I can even show this,” You cover your mouth.
“Babe, I don’t think you want to see this,” You continue while Tom becomes impatient and curious. “Just show me!” You give a look to the interviewer as you show him the tiktok. Almost immediately, Tom turns it off and gets up from the screen as you stifle a laugh, watching him as he walks behind the camera, his hands on his hips.
“What did I just watch,” He says as you full on start to laugh to the point where you were on the ground laughing and had a stitch. “I should have stayed curious” Tom runs a hand down his face as he sighs and sits back down on the chair, laughing at you on the floor dying from laughter.
“I’m so glad you find this amusing, sweetheart,” He playfully rolls his eyes as he offers his hand and helps you up. “My eye makeup is most definitely ruined,” You say in between laughs as Tom grabs your face and wipes away the smudged mascara.
“Oh my god! I’m sorry I didn’t even show you the tiktok!” You realise as the woman doing the interview snickers. “We probably looked mentally insane,” You fan your face. The TikTok was of Coryo kissing your character in tbosas and the next clip was of Billy kissing Dulcinea which also happened to be played by you and the writing on the TikTok said “This man kisses like he is starved, like she is the oxygen he needs to breathe,”
Tom was beyond embarrassed as he recalled both moments when he was kissing you on screen. “This may be abit of TMI but ladies, he’s always been like that,” You cover the left side of your mouth as you whisper it to the camera before winking.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
renjunphile · 5 months ago
Text
freedom ain't nothing but missing you ☆ jung sungchan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ᯓ★ WORD COUNT: 13.6k
ᯓ★ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader
ᯓ★ TAGS & WARNINGS: college!au, second chance romance, college antics - partying, drinking, brief mentions of vomiting, reader has mad commitment issues you wanna punch her in the face, pining
ᯓ★ SYNOPSIS: the last time you saw him was when you looked over your shoulder at his weeping figure one last time at the airport. four seasons have passed and your heart tightens at the sight of his smiling face, wishing it was directed at you.
ᯓ★ NOTES: what would a renjunphile fic be without a second chance romance element ! sorry it's my favourite trope i can never let go of it :') all my stories are really the same now ! also me *handshake* using aespa members as side characters lol at the start of story, y/n and hyung line are going into 4th year, sohee and seunghan into 3rd year and anton into 2nd year.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
You hear your best friend's voice before you see her. If you had just looked a little more to the left, you would've spotted her immediately anyway as she waved a large piece of pink card-stock with your name displayed in a glittery explosion.
"Y/N! Over here!" she cooed at you loudly from behind the barrier, "Y/N!!!"
You quickly weave around the other passengers as expertly as you could with your trolley of bags, but Minjeong is quick to meet you at the exit. She drops the sign onto your cluster of suitcases and wraps her arms around your neck, squealing into your ear with glee.
"I missed you too, Jeong," you giggled at her embrace, "I told you that you didn't have to get me!"
She scoffed at you as she pulled away, "What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't welcome you back home after a year away! You said your parents couldn't come and meet you, so I came!"
You think back to your conversation just before you got on the god-awful long flight with her, recalling how your parents thought it was too far for them to drive up from your hometown when they were already coming the week after for your birthday.
"Thanks babe," you thanked her sincerely, bumping your hip against hers while the two of you began to push the cart together. You couldn't believe that you were able to pack your whole life in just two large suitcases and one small one, "By the way, how are we getting back into the city?"
Minjeong didn't drive; she'd rather walk to her destination in the wind, snow, hail or storm than learn how to get behind the wheel. She was a self proclaimed "passenger princess", which you admired and envied from the way your friends (including her) used you like their own personal taxi service when you had your car. Sadly for your friends, you were not hesitant when it came to selling your car at the end of your second year of university, just weeks before you packed up your life and moved to New York for the new school year. While you sometimes missed your slightly beat up Hyundai on the days that you had to get on the subway with arms full of groceries, you couldn't justify the purchase of a car again for your final year of university.
"I assisted the help of a special someone," Minjeong winked at you happily, watching your face contort in horror immediately, "Wait, no. Not that one. I promise."
You let out a sigh of relief that you didn't even know you were holding back as you cramped together in the car park's elevator. There were many people you haven't seen in a year. There were many people you've missed and wished to see. But you didn't think you could face him right now, at this very second.
"Who is it?" you prodded curiously, but she just gave you an innocent smile and pushed the cart out of the elevator and towards a shiny car about 30 steps from the doors
You couldn't make out the figure sat in the driver's seat, no matter how you craned your head until he got out and faced you straight on.
"Chanyoung!" you gasped in surprise, welcoming him in a tight hug, "Since when did you learn how to drive?"
"Just this year, noona. Welcome home!" he chuckled from above you. You wondered if he grew any more since the last time you saw him, cause it definitely felt like it.
Chanyoung was Minjeong's little cousin that began his studies at your university as you were leaving. Despite that, he grew to be a familiar presence as he lived nearby and always dropped by the apartment you shared with his cousin. He was truly one of your favourite people since he was so sweet and caring.
Before you could finish your greetings with Chanyoung, Minjeong had already loaded your (very heavy) bags into the trunk of Chanyoung's new car and had collapsed in the back seat, "Let's go guys. I'm sure Y/N's tired, but you can sit in the front."
Without another word, she dropped her head to the window and began to doze off. You clambered into the front seat and gave Chanyoung a thumbs up to head out.
"How was your first year at university, 'Ton?" you asked.
"Super good, actually. It was really helpful to know all of your friends before I entered so I never felt alone or lost or anything," he recounted the times that you missed, "By the way, thank you for letting me stay in your room. My first year definitely wouldn't be the same if I still lived at home."
You shared a two-bedroom apartment with Minjeong just off campus during your second year at university after meeting her on the first day of first year and becoming fast friends. You had warned her that you probably would have to find a temporary replacement while you were halfway across the world, but when word got out to her little cousin, he begged to take over your room while you were gone. Since he lived in Seoul already, his parents weren't very willing to let him test his luck and go into dorms with a stranger, but they were much more open to letting him live with his older and allegedly more responsible older cousin until he found friends to live with for the next year.
"No worries; I'd rather it was you than a stranger," you shrugged, "Who are you living with again?"
"Sohee and Seunghan," he tapped his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the song quietly playing on the radio, "You know them, right?"
Your heart squeezed again at the thought of the boys you got to know in the year before you left, "Yeah, a bit. Haven't spoken to them in a long time, though. I hope it's not awkward to see everyone again, otherwise I'll just lock myself in my room until I graduate."
"Everyone misses you, noona," Anton assured you softly, "I know that for sure."
You opened your mouth to say what your heart desired, but closed it again hesitantly as your brain came to the rescue of your emotions. Anton flashed a look at you from the driver's seat, but chose not to comment when he saw the conflicted expression on your face.
"Tell me about your time in New York," his soft voice pulled you gently out of the mess that was unravelling in your head.
You gave him a small, knowing smile and began recounting your favourite memories and your life in the city that never sleeps.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
Around 4PM, you waved your parents away as they pulled out from the car park under your apartment complex. They had a pretty long drive back to your hometown with work early the next day, but you were grateful they made the drive up in the morning to celebrate your birthday with you. You had taken them to your previous favourite Italian restaurant for lunch, but after tasting more authentic cuisine in New York in the predominantly Italian neighbourhoods, you weren't sure if the restaurant was as good as you remembered it to be. Still, you enjoyed the lunch and catching up with your parents with what had happened in the last 6 months since they came to visit you abroad. With a hug and a kiss goodbye, they were driving away from you once again.
When you returned back upstairs to your apartment, Minjeong was waiting for you patiently on the couch with her legs and arms crossed and a mischievous smirk on her face.
"What?" you groaned in anticipation.
"I picked out an outfit for you while you were out. It's on the bed. Get ready," she grinned, clapping her hands together, "We have dinner plans. Meet back here in an hour and a half."
"That's really not necessary, Jeong," you pleaded, but she just turned her nose up at you, reiterating her instructions.
To be honest, you had planned to spend the rest of your birthday cuddled up on the couch with your best friend, probably watching a chick-flick or a horror or both. She stomped away to her room and you fearfully tiptoed to yours. Knowing her, she would have picked out something a bit more showy than you would like.
However, you were pleasantly surprised at the dress laid out on your bed, with a note in her handwriting. It wasn't something she picked out of your closet- it was a dress she had bought for you. It was a flowing mini dress with ruffles extending from the skirt and a corset bodice you knew would flatter you. You sent her a grateful text and began to freshen up your hair and makeup from your morning outfit.
From your outfit, you guessed it would be in a sit-down restaurant that was more refined than a bbq restaurant whose smoke would cling to your hair, skin and clothes for days. However, knowing Minjeong, you couldn't put anything past her. After all, she was the one that convinced you to drink soju with her at a stall on the side of a dirt road in your floor length silk dresses after your first year ball. An hour and a half later, you had curled and then re-curled your hair, did your eyeliner twice and marvelled at how the light pink dress your best friend bought you fit you like a glove. When you heard Minjeong calling out your name, you were finishing buckling the heeled Mary Janes that you loved and made sure that everything you could need for the night was in your purse.
In the week you had been back in Seoul, all you had done was unpack your suitcases and make the room feel like yours again. School wasn't starting for another week, so all the friends that you tried to meet up with told you that they were still in their hometowns, due to come a few days before the fall semester began.
"Urgh, I knew it would look amazing on you!" Minjeong analysed you in awe. Trust the fashion design and marketing major to have an eye for these types of things.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" you eyed her suspiciously as she looped her arm around yours and dragged you out of your shared apartment.
"You can find out when we get there," Minjeong tapped on her phone, "The taxi's outside, quick!"
The destination set for the taxi was somewhere you weren't familiar with. The street name definitely didn't ring a bell. Perhaps a new restaurant had opened in that area while you were gone and Minjeong was just trying to catch you up to the city again.
Speaking of the girl beside you, she spent the whole ride with her eyebrows furrowed together as she furiously tapped away on her phone. You wouldn't say that you were a particularly nosy person (lie), but her privacy screen protector made it impossible for you to see who she was texting. It was probably Heeseung anyway- her on-again, off-again boyfriend of four years, but more like two.
"Are you guys fighting again?" you teased.
"Huh?" she looked up at you in confusion and her face flashed with recognition, "Yeah, yeah. It's nothing. Don't worry, but look we're basically here."
Apparently 'here' meant on the street that was lined by endless blocks of high rise flats and a few convenience stores dotted about.
"Did you make me dress up to eat ramen at a GS25?" you prodded your finger in the direction of the store.
Minjeong laughed heartily, "No silly! I made you dress up to eat ramen at a 7/11!" she pointed at the stripy neon sign at the opposite end of the street. She captured your arm in hers once more, tugging to make you walk with her, "Just trust me. It's the hottest place in town."
You don't think that the hottest place in town was Block 7 of this high rise complex, but you say nothing as she buzzed for apartment 08 and caught the lift up to the 4th floor. Minjeong was known to find all the hottest spots in town, so you really try to keep it to yourself as she knocked on the door that looked far too much like an apartment door, including the mail next to the door mat.
She didn't even wait for someone to answer, just pushed down on the handle and nudged for you to enter into the darkness.
"Surprise!"
You clasped a hand over your mouth as light flooded the room and a group of about 20 people screamed at you. From behind you, Minjeong was cheering, pushing you further into what now seemed to be an apartment instead of a restaurant. With 20 pairs of eyes staring at you all at once, it took you a few seconds to shake yourself out of the shock and recognise anyone. The place was decorated with banners and balloons of your favourite colours, with steaming food on the dining table in the corner of the room.
"Happy birthday! Welcome home!" Karina, Yizhuo and Giselle were the first to crush you ina hug.
"We're sorry we declined your plans to hang out," Yizhuo pouted, "We thought we would give away the surprise that Jeong planned if we saw you."
You waved a dismissive hand at your younger friend, "It's okay. This is so sweet of you guys!" You felt Minjeong join the embrace.
"We thought you deserved it since we didn't get to spend your birthday with you last year," Giselle added on as the group pulled away from you.
Last year, you had spent your birthday alone, wandering around New York City for the first time and procuring free birthday goods from all the establishments that offered it.
"Happy birthday, Y/N!" you heard a deeper voice coo at you as you were pulled away from your girls. You were suddenly face to face with one of your closer guy friends from before.
"Eunseok!" you accepted his side hug, "Hi!"
"Welcome home! We all missed you so much," at his words, you dart your eyes around the room and find 5 boys hiding behind Eunseok's tall figure. They each hug you one by one, ending with Chanyoung who gives you the cheekiest grin.
"Welcome to our apartment," he grinned proudly, gesturing at himself, Sohee and Seunghan.
"Where'd you get all this money from, huh? I should've charged you more rent," you teased, eyeing the modern, open-plan space. The floor to ceiling windows on one wall of the room with a view over the river really sold you on the idea that this was an expensive apartment.
"You can throw as many parties as you like here," Shotaro giggled, "We know we're going to!"
"Yeah, whose birthday is it next?" Wonbin pondered.
"Oh! It's-" Eunseok smacked Sohee in the stomach before he could finish his words, laughing nervously.
The 6 boys in front of you watched in despair as your smile fell ever so slightly before you recovered it again.
"I'll go say hi to everyone else," you murmured softly, catching Wonbin's regretful face.
"Y/N, he's-"
"It's okay, Bin," you smiled softly, ignoring the pounding in your heart and head, "I wouldn't have expected him to come. He probably hates me, right?"
You turned around without letting any of the boys say another word, joining your group of friends from your dance club. While your friendship with them was something you treasured deeply, you fell out of touch with them in your year abroad quite quickly. You didn't put much thought into the people that did or didn't keep in contact, considering you were focused on making friends and trying to live in the moment abroad. Besides, you were coming back anyway. What's a year in the grand scheme of things?
Your heart panged at that thought, but you tried to push it away as Jisung tackled you in a tight hug. Ryujin and Yeji had to physically peel the towering kid away from you as you dove into conversation about what you had spent the last year doing.
As the conversation came to an end, your eyes fell on the 6 boys stood around in a circle, whispering hushedly and stealing quick glances at you. When you caught Seunghan's eye, he just chuckled nervously and dismissed you, but the sight of them, incomplete, caused your heart to tense up.
All the most important people in your university life was in this room. All, except one.
"Jeong, I'm just gonna catch some air. Just quickly," you tapped your best friend on the back, just before waving and greeting her potentially current boyfriend Heeseung.
"Oh, I'll come with!" she began to untangle herself from his embrace, but you just clicked your teeth and shook your head.
"No, it's okay. I can go alone; I'll be quick. Just buzz me up when I ring?" you requested. She gave you an unsure look, but settled back into Heeseung's form.
Ignoring the stares on your back, you ran down the two flights of stairs and pushed open the door to outside. Since it was the start of fall and 6pm, the sun was beginning to go down. The sky wasn't yet pink and purple, but instead glowing an ethereal gold, bathing you in light rays. You fiddled with the phone in your hand, grasping it tightly as you debated what to do. His contact was staring up at you, almost taunting you to do something with it. Call it? Message it? Delete it?
Your finger hovered over the phone symbol. Surely he'd want to hear from you, right? The way you ended things wasn't... satisfactory. It gave neither of you closure. You needed to speak to him, right?
Fuck it, you think to yourself. It's your birthday. You can do whatever you like. As you pressed the call button, you shakily lifted the phone up to your ears, counting the rings.
Ring ring, ring ring, ring-
"Y/N?" his voice is familiar, soothing the nerves that plagued you at the thought of him letting your call go unanswered.
"Sungchan," you began hesitantly, "I'm not sure if anyone told you, but I'm uh- I'm back in Seoul."
"Y/N," he repeated, making you aware of the sounds of his feet hitting the pavement through the phone and his laboured, shaky breaths.
"Shit, are you busy? Am I interrupting something?" your stomach folded in on itself as you realised he didn't answer your statement. He was probably at the gym- Minjeong told you he'd taken that up in your absence.
"Y/N," he breathed out again, the patters of his feet coming to a stop, "Look up."
You tore your eyes away from your feet- the only thing that was distracting you from internalising too hard that you were calling your kind-of ex-boyfriend.
As you lifted your eyes up, a tall figure came into view across the street from you. Sungchan was stood panting, one hand holding his phone up to his ear and the other holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Sungchan?" the call dropped as the figure took a step into the street, hastily running over to stop just shy from you.
"I don't hate you," it's the first time you're hearing his voice in one year, "The boys- they said that you said- I wanted to come, but I didn't know if you wanted me here."
He's trying to maintain eye contact, but he's clutching the flowers to his chest as he pants. You were at ease enough to chuckle, "Sungchan, did you run here?"
In this light, his eyes shined and sparkled. You've missed looking into them and getting lost all night in his gaze. You missed the way he would look at you like you were the most precious thing on earth to him.
He flashed you a toothy smile, "Mhm, didn't want to make you wonder. Just wanted to tell you that."
"A text would've sufficed."
He analysed your expression and took one large step back, "Ah, am I reading this wrong? Did you not want me to come?"
You took one step forward, "I'm sorry I didn't call as soon as I got back."
Relief flooded Sungchan's whole body as he stretched his arm to offer the bouquet to you, "It's whatever. Happy birthday, Y/N."
"Thanks, Sungchan," you smiled sincerely, "Do you want to head up now together? I'm kind of hungry and I think there's pizza."
"Yeah, sure!" his face is practically lit up at your invitation, but he hesitated to follow you, "Y/N?"
"Yeah?"
"I missed you," he whispered shyly, "Just so you know."
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
You met Sungchan three weeks into your first year of university. Minjeong's boyfriend Heeseung had joined the soccer team in the first week and their first game came around quickly. The two of you were like two peas in a pod, bundled up together in matching scarves bearing your university's colours and logo, shivering on the school's bleachers.
Your friend's eyes were trained on her boyfriend from home, but you had the lucky status of being able to cast your eyes on each player and make your judgement. The game had been going on for about 30 minutes with your school being 2-0 up. Both goals had been scored by the team's #23, a scrawny tall boy whose name you could just about make out from your distance.
"Jung's pretty good," you hummed to your friend.
"#23? His name's Sungchan, I think. Hee says he's really nice. Want me to get you two acquainted?" Minjeong wiggled her eyebrows at you, but you rolled your eyes.
You were determined to find love as naturally as possible at university. Back home, you'd been on a few first days with a few guys set up through your friends, but they were all the same to you- not cute enough, not interesting enough. You hadn't been desperate to get into a relationship, especially knowing that you were going to apply to spend your third year abroad if you kept your grades up. But when Sungchan slid in to the seat beside yours for your shared lecture meeting your GenEd requirements, you had lost all semblance of that.
"Hey, you're Y/N, right?" he had offered his hand out to you, "I'm Sungchan. I've seen you around with Heeseung's girlfriend and I've seen you in this lecture a few times."
You had taken his hand in yours, gripping firmly and giving him a shy smile, "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you,"
When he continued to sit beside you for another few weeks, asking you questions in hushed whispers and explaining concepts to you when you looked lost, you said nothing. When he started asking if you wanted to study in the library together in your two hour gap after your shared lecture, you said nothing. When library study-seshes turned into studying at a cafe where he'd buy you a drink, you said nothing. When that turned to just two hours of the two of you chatting and getting to know all about each other's lives with your laptops abandoned on the table, you said nothing.
It then turned into butterflies slowly erupting in your stomach as his face lit up the second he saw you in the theatre. It turned into your heart beating a little faster whenever his hand brushed against yours on the walk to the café you now frequented with him. It turned into finding comfort in him as he slowly began introducing you to his best friends, who would tease you endlessly. It turned into nervous giggles and pink cheeks as you spent the whole fall and winter denying anything was going on with you and Jung Sungchan.
When spring of your freshman year began to roll in, Sungchan had mustered up the courage to take your hand in his whenever your fingers did graze each other on the walks. Whenever you'd look up at him to question it, he'd just smile slyly and look off into the distance, quickly changing the topic before you could address it.
Spring break had you realising how much of a presence he was in your life. Walking through the parks of your hometown felt melancholy without him by your side. Studying at a cafe alone was productive, but you would miss the way that every time you looked up from your screen, he'd already be staring back at you, a soft smile permanently etched on his face.
Cherry blossom season was your favourite time of the year. So when you returned to your campus and found out the main square was lined with these bloomed trees, you had dragged Sungchan there immediately, even if he had just arrived from his hometown.
The joy in your eyes must have been so evident, reflecting back in his eyes as sparkles. When Sungchan had placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you bouncing, and then leaned his head down closer to yours, you didn't stop it. You had long been used to the way he made your heart race. It was a welcome feeling as he softly planted his lips on yours for the first time under the falling petals.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
"Y/N," the sharp voice plucked you from your daydream, a bag making a thud on the wooden table, "What are you thinking about?"
"Huh?" your eyes focused in on Karina taking a seat in front of you at the café, "Nothing, nothing. Did you just have class?"
"My class ended early and I was just walking to my next class in 15, but I saw you through the window looking all sad and aloof," she explained, her eyebrows drawn together in worry, "Are you okay, girl?"
You met Karina with Minjeong at a club in the first week of your freshman year. She had been throwing up in the toilet with the door open and no one holding her hair, so Minjeong did that while you rubbed her back and cooed reassuring words. After confessing that she was getting drunk because she had just broken up with her high school boyfriend, the two of you captured her in your little group.
"It's just weird being back," you admitted.
She pouted at you sadly, "Aw, don't tell me you like your New York friends better than us?"
"No!" you squealed, laughing, "It's not that. I love you guys. It's just weird being back with Sungchan."
Her eyes morphed into a mix between empathy and sympathy, "Aw, babe. I'm sorry; I know it's weird. Whenever I meet my friends back home, I get a weird feeling seeing my ex there too. I imagine it must be worse for you since you ended on better terms than me and Mark did. It must be confusing, huh?"
Out of all your friends, Karina was the best one to be having this conversation with. While you loved Minjeong more than anything in the world, she was famous for breaking up with her boyfriend for random spats, but calling him and asking to get back together the very next moment she missed him. Absolutely no sense of longing in that department.
"I just don't know how I should act around him. Do we just go back to being friends like in first year? Should I pursue him again? Why does it feel like we're strangers to each other?"
During your party, you had thought Sungchan would stay by your side, but he quickly excused himself to join his friends and only gave you reluctant smiles through the night. Where had all the confidence disappeared to?
You saw him one more time in the two weeks after your party at the library. Eunseok had booked a large private study room at the library and texted you to come. Sungchan was already there when you came, his head stuck in a textbook. Other than shooting you a greeting and sliding the box of cookies in your direction, you got nothing else from him in three hours.
"You just need to get the worst of it over and talk to him. He must be just as confused as you are, to be honest," Karina sighed.
"He hasn't found someone else, right?" you asked reluctantly. Even if he had, it would have been your own fault anyway after the way you left him for dust at the airport.
Karina scoffed and rolled her eyes, "The only thing he's found in the past year is the gym. Taro says he's gone crazy. You know- post break-up glow up? He's become quite the heartbreaker, actually. All these girls started to notice him, but he never gives any of them the time of day."
You fight the scowl threatening to display on your face, "Oh, really?"
"Please, Y/N, he was always going to wait for you. I'd never seen a man so down bad and I know Heeseung." she scrunched up her face at the thought. Heeseung was famously untouchable by the girls at university, no matter how much they threw themselves at the football captain. Anyone else would be embarrassed by getting broken up with by their girlfriend every couple of months, but Heeseung always took it with stride and came crawling back with on his hands and knees towards her every time.
"Hm, you're wrong. I don't think anyone can beat that man," the memory of him scoring a hat-trick in the regional final with the words 'Take me back, Minjeong' written on his undershirt that he flashed while he celebrated the last goal cemented his position of number 1 loverboy in your mind.
"Potentially, but Sungchan drove four hours overnight to your hometown when your pet hamster died to comfort you in the summer between first and second year," Karina reminded you, "He charmed your strict parents so hard that by the time the night came, they let him stay in your room with you!"
"He brought expensive melons," you rolled your eyes, "I don't even know where he got those from at 2 in the morning."
"Exactly. Even I wouldn't gift my in-laws that expensive of a fruit no matter how much I wanted to impress them," she countered, "Just talk to Sungchan, I beg. I don't want to watch you go through the whole will they-won't they song and dance of first year again. I gotta go to class, but text him now, yeah?"
You dumbly nodded at her instruction, watching her race out of the cafe and waving goodbye through the large window. Everyone always teased you about how much Sungchan seemed to like you. They never knew that you were equally as smitten.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
You made it to the café before Sungchan. Unfortunately, that just gave you more time to panic and stress over what you were going to say to him after all this time. Your chocolate frappe and his iced americano sat in front of you, slowly melting in the unrelenting sun. You asked to meet at 1 and there was still 5 minutes 'til then, but Sungchan had the habit of being early. That was one thing he passed down to you.
"Y/N," Sungchan gave you a gentle smile as he slid into the seat across you. It was hard to meet his eye, but you held eye contact for as long as you could (not very long) before you tore your eyes away and slid his drink over to him. He thanked you sincerely and took a sip, giving you the chance to speak first.
"Thanks for meeting me, Sungchan," you began nervously, "I know it's been, um, confusing recently- at least for me. I just wanted to catch up and see where we are or get some closure, I guess. I feel like you deserve more of an explanation than what I was able to give you."
In an instant, you're transported back to one week before your flight to New York in the comfort of his bed. You had tearfully explained how hard you thought it was going to be to do long distance even when you had spent a better part of the situationship deluding yourself and each other that it would work out not matter what.
You don't think you could ever forget the look of heartbreak plastered on his face as you spilled your worries to him that night. You don't think you'd ever forgive yourself for making his body shake with sobs, pleading you to think about it again.
That's why it's hard to face him right now- because of all the shame and guilt.
"To be honest, Y/N, you told me before we got involved that you were doing your year abroad and that you didn't think it would be in the best interest of either of us to be in a new relationship by the time you left," Sungchan hummed, swirling his straw in the ice of his drink.
Suddenly, it's a year and a half earlier in your head as you and Sungchan celebrated and 'not really 1 year anniversary' because you two refused to label yourselves as a couple despite functioning identically to one. You remembered the cake, the flowers, the candles that you blew out together.
"I feel like I led you on," you admitted.
"Maybe," he shrugged, "I don't feel that way. You didn't want to get into a relationship, but I kept pursuing you anyway until you fell in- until you liked me," he coughed.
Your demeanour softened as the words slip from his mouth. When Sungchan tried to utter those three words to you at the airport for the first time and you stopped him before you could, you instantly knew you were making a mistake. But by the time you had gotten through security and settled yourself at your gate, you had manipulated yourself to think otherwise.
"Stop being so nice about it, Sungchan. I did you so wrong," you frowned deeply at him, picking at your nails in nerves. Your heart and stomach honestly ached in displeasure every time you thought about what happened.
"We made choices, and I guess we're better people now for it," Sungchan returned a tight-lipped smile, turning his head to stare out of the window and into the street.
When you left, Sungchan was shy and awkward with his limbs flying all over the place and never seeming like he had control over them. His hair fell around his eyes in an adorable cut and it would take him a while to muster up the courage to look anyone in the eye. That wasn't to say he wasn't a friendly and amazing guy- just one that had to warm up to you.
The Sungchan you returned to walked with confidence and seemed like he was now sure of himself. He kept his head up, initiated conversations with people and just moved through life more freely. You can't help but think that you were the one thing holding him back.
You didn't know what to reply with. Were you really better off? You had spent the past year trying to enjoy your life abroad, but grovelling with guilt for the life back home that you left.
Before you can open your mouth, someone beats you to it.
"Channie?"
The affectionate nickname falling from another person's mouth instantly conjures a bitter taste in your mouth. Your heads snap towards the guest standing at the edge of the table, smiling down at the man in front of you.
"Ah, I knew it was you," she beamed brightly, "Haven't had the chance to talk to you- how was your summer?"
Sungchan's eyes flickered to you so quick that you almost didn't catch it. You could tell he was hesitant in his reply, "It was good, Jiyoon. How was yours?"
She clapped her hands a little and nearly let out a squeal, "Awesome! Went to that mountain you recommended climbing! You're playing at the game tomorrow, right?"
Game? Oh, he was still on the soccer team, of course.
"Yeah," his grin was lopsided and awkward as he turned to you, "Um, Jiyoon, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jiyoon. We met in class last year."
"Nice to meet you," she extended a hand down to you, which you reluctantly shook with a terse smile. You could practically feel the uncertainty and jealousy bubbling in the pits of your stomach as she continued, "Me and Channie were seat mates in our lectures last year! It's such a shame we don't share any this year."
The feeling is so unfamiliar that it makes you uncomfortable seeing the way she grinned and looked at him. He used to look at you like that too- the longing and the pining in the gaze when you wouldn't give into him. It was clear they weren't dating, but it felt like there was something more.
"Nice to meet you too," you clutched your drink tight in your hand as you picked up your bag, "I actually have to run somewhere so why don't you take a seat and catch up? Seems like it's due. Bye Sungchan."
In your rush away from the table, Sungchan caught your wrist again, "Y/N, don't-"
Once again, you'll never forget the face of heartbreak written all over his face as you pulled your wrist away with a sigh, "Thanks for speaking to me, Sungchan. Good luck for tomorrow."
You don't dare look back as the bubbly Jiyoon slid into the chair you were once occupying.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
Minjeong has her arms crossed in your doorway with a pointed look directed at you.
"Why aren't you ready?" she squinted her eyes menacingly at your slumbering position on the bed, "We're going to be late! You're lucky I asked Sunghoon to save us two seats."
You pulled the covers over your head, "I'm not going. Leave without me."
The little pitter-patter of her footsteps on your hardwood floors echoes before she ripped the sheets away from you, "And why is that?"
You made grabby-hands at the duvet, but she tossed it behind her. You gave her your best innocent look and produced a cough, "I'm sick?"
Minjeong scoffed loudly and tugged on your arm, "I'm not taking no for an answer, missy. This is your final first game of the season! And we're playing our rival team, so show some school spirit."
"But 'Jeong," you whined in protest as she threw open your wardrobe and began to search for your school merch.
"You don't have to see him if you don't want to," she sighed empathetically, "We'll run away as soon as it's done, but you loved school football games, right?"
It's about the time you realised that Minjeong wasn't going to let up on her insisting, so you slipped on the crop top and jacket with your school's logos and shimmied into the skirt she was making you wear, despite the temperature outside. Arm in arm, but in measured silence, the two of you fast-walked to the football arena that was only 15 minutes from your house. Thankfully the game hadn't yet started when you two clambered into the seats between Sunghoon, Heeseung's friend, and Anton.
"It's nice to see you again, Y/N!" Sunghoon grinned, taking you into a hug, "Did you miss Korea while you were gone?"
"Of course, but it was nice to experience a new culture for a bit," you replied, trying your hardest to keep your eyes off the pitch where the teams were getting into their positions, "How's the skating?"
"I won college nationals this year," he said proudly, to which you clapped and congratulated him. He was truly one of the school's pride and joy, but he didn't want to take it any further than collegiate sport, "Anyway, are you going to the after-party later? It's at the Rho Zeta house."
Minjeong's face planted into your right shoulder, "We are!"
"Jeong! You said we're leaving straight after the game!" you protested, turning your body to face her's.
"Yeah, to the party," she cackled, slapping an arm around her cousin's shoulders, "Tell her, Chanyoung. We're going to the party, right?"
His eyes suddenly turned pleading and you knew you were doomed for, "C'mon, Y/N! It's the first party of the year win or lose so you have to come."
Sunghoon looked at you with expectant eyes too and you honestly believed they were about three seconds away from begging on their knees when you rolled your eyes and dismissed them. Minjeong took this as a win and began to cheer, while also redirecting your attention back to the game in front of you.
When you were dating/not-dating, you used to come to every one of Sungchan's games wearing his jersey rain or shine. That's how you gained the status of being one of the most notorious couples in the grade. You didn't know why, but you were glad to see that no other girl was sporting his name and number on their back from what you could see. They weren't a famous team; they didn't sell jerseys with the players' names in the school store, so you were a little bit relieved to realise Sungchan wasn't giving out his jerseys to girls left, right and centre in your absence.
What was evident though, was the rambunctious screaming every time the ball fell at his feet. He was one of the team's star players along with Heeseung and Lee Minho, so you weren't surprised. However, the cheering had definitely stepped up a notch ever since he checked himself into the gym while you were gone.
The game passed by pretty quickly. Both defences were very good, so there weren't many goals scored. Heeseung had scored two both assisted by Sungchan and the other team had done the same. Though the game ended in a eventful tie, the crowd was still buzzing with pride and school spirit. Through the streets around the arena and the campus, you could hear them chanting some school songs.
"Are we meeting Heeseung there?" you asked Minjeong curiously as you walked together towards Greek row. Sunghoon had disappeared after the win to find some of his friends before the party, meanwhile Chanyoung was whisked away by Seunghan into the crowd
"Yeah, they'll be a while before they get to the house, I think. I know I was heavy persuading you earlier, but you're actually fine with coming to the party, right? You can tell me if not," her eyebrows are stitched together in worry, but you just link arms again and continued walking.
"It'll be nice to go out and do my normal things," you reassured her.
The Rho Zeta house was one that was very familiar to you. It was a house you had spent many a nights in during your second year when Sungchan lived at his frat house. You wondered if he stayed there or moved out with his friends.
There's some rushing freshmen on the door duty and you were let in swiftly when Minjeong uttered your names. Though Heeseung was a member of a different fraternity, the friends and partners of the football team were always invited to the post-game ragers. Making your way down to the basement where most people chose to spend their time, you waved to Eunseok in the kitchen making cocktails.
A fair few spectators had already made it to the party after the game finished, knocking back their third, fourth or fifth beer or beverage of choice already. When Wonbin pressed a shot into your hand and clinked it with the one in his, you had no choice but to chug it down with a grimace. Before you knew it, Eunseok was tipping back a cup of mojito down your throat and you and Minjeong were doing shots of tequila with your arms intertwined.
The Rho Zeta basement was expansive, but very busy. There were people playing beer pong in one corner (Sohee was losing badly to a grinning Anton) meanwhile sober monitor Shotaro was trying to pry the darts out of a drunk Seunghan's grip before he could try to throw them and potentially hurt someone. You swore that they kept those locked away in a cabinet during parties, but Seunghan was always a crafty guy.
Endless bodies swayed in the gaps of the basement to the rhythm of the music- the music being the mixes that Nu Sigma Tau alumni Johnny Suh was producing from his speakers in the far corner. He was truly a man stuck in his college days, but he always provided the best tunes. You had lost track of time early into the night before losing track of Minjeong completely when the football team arrived. You hid behind Johnny's equipment, making small (loud) talk with him about what he had been getting up to. In the corner of your eye, you had spotted Sungchan hovering in the crowds since he was probably a whole head taller than most of the attendees.
"I heard what happened to you and our bambi over there," Johnny uttered nonchalantly as he prodded at some buttons that you could never grasp the use of, "How's that working out?"
"It's the consequences of my own actions," you hummed sadly, "I've never regretted anything more."
"Does he know that?"
You flick your glance to the guy chatting with his best friend Eunseok by the wall, "I think I owe it to him to let him move on. There's so many girls interested in him since I left."
"And clearly he rejected all those girls if he came alone. I'm banishing you from my booth, so go talk to him." Johnny cooed at you before pushing you lightly away and into the crowd with a wave.
After the fiasco that was the café and Jiyoon, you certainly weren't prepared to face Sungchan. What could you even say to him? That you were burning with jealousy that you couldn't help but run away?
Yizhuo and Giselle occupied your time for a little bit on the couches, but once the smell of sweaty party goers began to invade your senses even while getting progressively drunker, you dashed/stumbled up to the second floor living room that was always much more chilled out.
"Y/N!" Soobin cried out excitedly as you entered the large room. He was already reaching over to offer you a beer, which you took. Behind Soobin's tall stature, you don't even notice the people sat in a circle behind him, "We're playing truth or dare."
Soobin was one of your friends you made in a club you joined in your freshman year. You didn't speak to him very much over text, but the two of you always had a good time when seeing each other. He wrapped his large hand around your wrist and dragged you over to sit in the circle. You recognised a few familiar faces as you cast your eyes around, namely Karina and some of Heeseung's friends, but your heart dropped when you saw Sungchan and Jiyoon sat cross-legged next to each other a few spaces to right of Soobin.
Even in your state, you weren't so much of a masochist to stay and watch. Leaning over to Soobin's ear, you whispered, "Shit Bin, I think I'm gonna sit this one out."
"No," he whined like a baby, "I haven't seen you in a year, so stay!"
His protest was so loud that it called the attention of some of your other friends who all drunkenly pouted and pleaded for you to stay. Some guy who you recognised as Sunwoo reached over the space in the middle and spun the bottle. You kept your eyes trained on it as spun around and around, praying it wouldn't land on you. A sigh of relief left your mouth as it fell on Chaerin, who quickly chose dare.
"Text your most recent ex and tell them that you miss them!" Sunwoo giggled through his drink.
As you nursed your own drink, you mirrored Chaerin's grimace and fought all your might to avoid looking at Sungchan. You would be horrified to have received that. Chaerin gingerly pulled out her phone and typed a few words before flashing her screen around the circle as proof. She then grabbed the bottle and spun it harshly.
"Jiwoo, truth or dare?" Chaerin taunted. Your eyes flashed to her figure momentarily as she giggled and chose dare as well.
"Kiss the person you'd most want to date."
You don't think you've ever felt such burning sadness as you watched Jiwoo quickly grab Sungchan's face and bring it down to hers for a quick peck. The grip on your bottle was nearly enough to smash the glass into a million pieces the way your heart was breaking.
It took everything in you not to get up and run away, especially when the alcohol in your bloodstream was making you feel your emotions ten times as strong. You couldn't make it about you- Sungchan didn't deserve that. The rest of the group's eyes had already turned to you after Jiwoo's kiss, considering that you and Sungchan never really kept it much of a secret. Even Karina  was making 'are you okay?' eyes at you from across the circle. You simply gave her a subtle nod and a smile as Jiwoo spun the bottle too.
"You and Sungchan aren't back together?" Soobin dropped his face low to your ear.
"Does it look like we are, Soob?" you exhaled, watching Nayoung give Jay a drunk and joking lap dance.
"Shit," he breathed out under his breath, "Sorry I made you stay."
"It's okay. I should move on anyway, right?" you smiled assuringly at him. You don't think you've ever given such a fake smile in your life.
"Y/N," Soobin trailed off, trying to pry the bottle that you were sipping on away from your hands, "Should we go?"
"No, it's fine," you gritted out, pointing at the bottle spinning to direct his attention. Your heart dropped as it landed on you.
"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Jay mumbled.
You weren't going to risk it; Jay was known for giving batshit ideas, so you settled on, "Truth."
"How many people did you sleep with or kiss on your year abroad?" he smirked.
"Zero," you deadpanned instantly, "For both."
Jay pouted at your boring answer, but gestured for you to choose the next person. It landed on Yuri, who chose dare bravely. You were starting to dissociate a little, but managed to murmur some dare about giving her phone to Sunghoon and letting him post whatever on her story.
The game continued a while with you trying to focus as much as possible at burning a hole through the glass of your drink with Soobin asking you if you were okay every couple of minutes. It was hard not to turn your head and steal glances at Sungchan and Jiwoo, whose laugh reverberated through the room, your bones and then into your heart.
You were certain Jiwoo was a nice girl, but where did she come from? All your friends convinced you that Sungchan hadn't entertained anyone despite the newfound attention that you leaving brought to him and even his friends never mentioned anything when they would occasionally talk to you. Surely Jiwoo and Sungchan were close, right? Close enough for them to be recommending each other things to do in the summer and close enough for Jiwoo to quite literally kiss him in front of everyone.
"Sungchan, truth or dare?" an unfamiliar voice caused your head to slowly lift up.
"Dare," it's the first time you've heard his voice the whole game.
"Kiss the person you'd want to date in this room."
A light gasp escaped nearly everyone's lips as you examined the smirking player. You definitely didn't recognise him; maybe he was a freshman. His eyes were darting with a cheeky glint between Sungchan and Jiwoo, assuming that he was setting up a couple by echoing Chaerin's earlier dare for him.
"Taesan, choose a different dare," Karina's voice boomed as she directed laser eyes towards the boy. He instantly frowned.
"Why? It's fun!"
"Choose a different dare," Soobin repeated next to you.
In that moment, you wanted the world to just cave in and swallow you up whole. You didn't think that you could bare to watch your ex-boyfriend- the one who held your heart but the one whose heart you stomped all over- kiss another girl in a confession. Despite that, you were completely paralysed in your spot, cross legged and head having turned to Sungchan's direction.
At the same time that Karina began to get up and say, "Y/N, let's go downstairs,", Sungchan had pushed himself out of his seat under the watchful eyes of Jiwoo.
"Fuck it," he had laughed dryly.
Your vision changed in a moment's notice. Sungchan was staring straight into your eyes bearing the emotions of pleading. Pleading to ask you if what he was about to do was okay.
You think that you probably nodded unconsciously, because in an instant, Sungchan's plump lips found yours again for the first time in a year. They slotted perfectly in between your hesitant mouth, but like a reflex, your brain had finally connected to your body again and started moving against him.
Similar to the earlier gasps from all those who had known about your history together, the whole group had gasped and fell silent as they watched the scene unfold.
The kiss was not gentle at all. He moved against you harshly, desperately and his hands on your cheeks burned your skin, lighting a thousand flames inside you. Sungchan tasted a bit like the beer he was drinking, but also like the cherry lip balm that you had once bought for him and got him addicted to in the past. It caught you so off guard that you fell back onto your hands behind you, causing him to push deeper against you.
You were both panting when he finally pulled away.
"Y/N," he murmured lowly against your lips, "Let's go to my room."
You remembered getting up. You remembered his fingers interlacing between yours. You remembered practically running through the corridors to reach his familiar door at the end. You remembered Sungchan pressing you up against the wall inside his room and connecting his lips to your neck.
Then you don't remember anything after.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
The next time your brain registers you're awake, there's a swirling in your stomach and something rising up your throat. In the lamp-lit glow of the seemingly strange room, you peeled the duvet off your sweating form and made a bee-line straight to the bathroom.
You didn't realise how you even knew there was a bathroom behind the door you had opened until a familiar hand was pulling your hair away from your face and rubbing your back as you emptied out the contents of your guts into the toilet.
"It's okay, baby," he cooed sweetly. The term of endearment flew over your head pretty much immediately, but your heart probably skipped a quick beat.
Tears brimmed at your lashes and threatened to spill as you hurled and hurled. How much had you had to drink?
"Sungchan?" you croaked out in between heaves.
"Yeah, it's me. I'm here," he whispered into the dark, "You're in my room at the frat house."
Binge drinking wasn't a common reoccurrence of your freshman and sophomore days, but when you did, you always threw up in the middle of the night and became disorientated. You never knew where you were and how you got there.
When you finally finished throwing up, Sungchan had already tied your hair back with a tie he found on your wrist and had pulled you up against his body in the bathroom. With the lamp in his room on and the door open, you could make out his sleepy figure and messy hair in the mirror.
"Here, wash your face and brush your teeth," the toothbrush he handed you was old, but you recognised it as the one you kept in his room for the nights you would sleep over. Despite the banging headache and the questions floating around in your head, you managed to follow his instructions. There was no makeup left on your face from what you could tell, so someone must have taken a wipe to your face. You just splashed some water to refresh yourself and brushed your teeth to get the nasty taste out of your mouth.
Looking down, you were still in the skirt and college top from the party, but your socks and shoes had been replaced with fluffy socks that you loved to sleep in and all of your jewellery removed. Sungchan was waiting at the edge of his bed, eyes only half opened until you stepped back into the room again.
It looked the same as when you left, with a few pictures of you together removed in places. There were some weights in the corner too, but otherwise, it was a picture perfect reflection of before, as if time never passed.
"What happened? What am I doing here?" your throat burned from all the heaving you had been doing, but Sungchan passed you a water bottle and a pill, "All I remember was the game and you kissing me."
"We went to my room, but you passed out pretty quick," Sungchan recounted, "Sorry I kissed you. I slept on the floor, by the way."
You noticed the pillow and blanket missing from the bed. From the digital clock on Sungchan's desk, you could see it was still only 4am.
"Thanks for taking care of me. I'll catch a taxi home now," you looked around the room for your shoes, "Sorry for the vomit and stuff."
Sungchan rose to his feet, "Y/N, just stay. It's dangerous for you to leave at this time and you need to rest. It's okay. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep in Eunseok's room."
Although your brain was blaring alarm signals in your mind and telling you to get out of there before anything else tragic could happen, your heart belonged to the bed that you missed sharing with him.
You sighed heavily and crawled back under the covers. With your eyes closed, you bared your true feelings into the silent room, "Please stay."
"Okay," he hummed, walking over to the other side of the bed where you assumed that he set up the pillow and blanket.
"Can you sleep with me? On the bed?" your voice was so quiet and hesitant despite your state that Sungchan didn't know if he just conjured that in his imagination until you spoke again, "Please?"
You shuffled over closer to your side of the bed closer to the door. He slid in on his side, closer to the window. Your head was spinning even lying down and you could feel yourself slipping out of consciousness already as his body heat combined with yours to wrap you up in a comfortable and familiar sensation.
"Y/N?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm lying. I'm not sorry I kissed you. I'm sorry that you had to see her kiss me though."
"Why?"
"I'd never want you to think that I want anyone else other than you."
Your awareness faded into nothingness as you felt Sungchan's hands slip in between yours under the sheets.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
"Y/N? What the fuck happened last night? Karina texted me and said some shit went down upstairs and you disappeared with Sungchan?" Minjeong's voice was laced with worry as she rushed to the door the second you stepped through.
Although she looked as haggard as you, she was much more preoccupied about where you went after she handed you your 3rd mojito of the night. You winced at her volume, "My head hurts like shit, Jeong. And my heart too."
"Jay told me what happened. Are you okay?" Heeseung's voice was quieter as you entered the open plan living space. He was sat on your couch with a bowl of cereal in the space between his crossed legs and Minjeong's iPad playing some TV show on the coffee table.
"Y/N? Hello?" Minjeong waved in your face.
"I don't want to talk about it, guys," you groaned, "Some girl kissed him. He kissed me. We went to his room. I passed out immediately and woke up throwing up. That's all."
"You didn't talk? Not this morning?" she prodded on.
It was only 11am. Your face involuntary cringed with regret.
Minjeong gasped dramatically, "Y/N, if you tell me right now that you left before he even woke up, I'm literally going to kill you. Y/N, that's such shitty behaviour. Honestly."
"Please don't make me feel worse than I already do," you sniffled as her words brought tears to your eyes, "I literally don't know what to do. All I want to do is let him go for his sake, but he keeps dragging me back to him."
She wrapped you up in a tight hug and smoothed out your hair, "Y/N, just go back to his room and tell him how you feel. Let him tell you how he feels too. You're going to keep going around in circles if you keep running from him, and it's going to end in heartbreak again."
You cried into her shoulders for a few minutes in sheer frustration, until she pushed you out of the door and made Heeseung drive you mid-bowl of cereal to the frat house to make sure you actually went inside.
On your grand exit out of the house that you prayed would go unnoticed, you had ran into Shotaro in the living room cleaning. He had given you a disappointed look, but your pleading eyes convinced him not to say anything as you slipped out of the door shortly after waking up. The expression on your face must have told him that you were sneaking away from his best friend.
It was Shotaro who opened the door for you when you knocked just 20 minutes after you left.
"You came to your senses?" Shotaro quirked an eyebrow at you as he stepped aside to let you in. You waved goodbye to Heeseung as he drove back in the direction he came in.
"I'm sorry, Taro."
"I'm not the one you should be saying that to," he sighed defeatedly, "Please don't hurt him again, Y/N. I love you both, but please."
All you could give him was a faltering smile as you ascended up to the second floor again. There were still some cups and miscellaneous items left strewn around the house, so you assumed that the frat brothers were mostly still asleep.
You tiptoed up to Sungchan's room and knocked three times, lightly, before pushing the door open. He was still curled up tightly on his side of the bed, cuddling a stuffed bear that you got him. It was exactly how you found him when you woke up again in the morning.
His face was so peaceful and angelic when he slept, soft snores escaping between his parted lips. In the past, you used to wake him up by peppering kisses on his smooth skin until he woke up. He used to wake up confused, until a smile would invade his face when he realised you were there. It used to make your heart feel all tight and warm in the best way possible.
Your breath hitched when Sungchan stirred to face his body towards you. Though his eyes stayed close, his breathing became noticeably shallower.
"You left," his voice was mercifully devoid of accusation, but it made your heart split down the middle all the same.
"I'm so sorry," it was pathetic, but that was all you could bring yourself to say.
Unwrapping his arm out from the tangle with his stuffed plushie, he patted the empty space on the bed that was still a bit warm. The weight of your body dropping onto the bed caused him to scooch a bit closer to you with his eyes still firmly closed.
"Can we just stop being sorry now? You're back now with no plans to leave again, so why do you keep running away from me?"
"Sungchan," you breathed out his name, but he opened his mouth again.
"I'll prove to you that all I want is still you. There's no one else, Y/N. You hurt me a lot, but I know you didn't want to. Let's give it another go. Do it properly and call each other boyfriend and girlfriend," his lips tugged up into a soft smile.
You didn't even know when you started crying but at the sound of your sniffle, his hands came up to wipe at your cheeks.
"Why are you crying?"
"What did I do to deserve someone like you? You deserve someone better," you choked out through your hot tears.
He let out a soft laugh as his eyes finally opened slowly and met yours, "Stop asking questions and saying sorry and just accept that I want to love you, Y/N."
His words triggered a waterfall of tears to stream down your face, but he pulled you down into the bed with him and wrapped you up in his arms tightly. It felt like home again.
"I loved you, Sungchan. I did."
He brushed the hair out of your face and planted a searing kiss on your temple, "I know, Y/N. I knew. Stop crying and go back to sleep with me. It'll all be okay when we wake up. I promise, baby."
He tucked his bear into your grasp and pulled the sheets over your bodies again. His arms returned around you and he continued to press the most gentle touches of his lips on your forehead, your temples, your nose and finally onto your lips that held back choked sobs until you slipped out of consciousness.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
"I wanna know everything you did in New York," Sungchan requested softly as he swung next to you. On the walk to your apartment from his that he accompanied you on after you both woke up, you spotted the playground equidistant between both residences empty. The two of you had spent a few nights there in the past swinging beside each other and talking, so it seemed perfect to go there again to talk- somewhere public and open.
You texted Minjeong that you were on the way back to your flat to change and freshen up and she kindly left with Heeseung as to not make the situation any more awkward or tense by having them meet in such a circumstance. Sungchan just sprawled in your bed and scrolled on his phone as you showered, changed and applied your skincare. After a night of drinking, throwing up and not moisturising after washing your face in the middle of the night, your skin had been going through it. When you plugged in your hairdryer and made him scooch over silently so you could sit on the bed, Sungchan had sat up and taken the dryer out of your grasp, motioning for you to turn around.
"Someone's watched Queen of Tears," you humoured over at him as the humming and heat began to fill the room.
"Just like the entire country," he jested back, "I guess we're a bit like them."
"Chaebols who get married and hate each other until one of them gets a seemingly incurable illness?" through the mirror at the end of your bed, you saw Sungchan roll his eyes playfully.
"Two people that find their way back to each other," he had corrected softly.
His words struck you silent, just watching him direct the dryer at your hair while thoughts swarmed in your head. You weren't sure if your neck was burning up from the dryer or from his fingers bumping against your skin every so often.
Since the two of you woke up, you could probably count on your hands how many times you'd spoken. You'd settled into this comfortable, but weighted silence knowing that sooner or later you'd probably have to properly talk to navigate the events of the night prior. You had delayed it a bit by asking to go home and change and he walked you all the way wordlessly other than suggesting to go to the park after.
When you were done getting ready, the two of you made your way to the park. This time, Sungchan had grabbed your hand firmly in his at the very first instance of your skin brushing. He was much more bold than when you had left.
"What do you want to know?" you quirked an eyebrow as he kicked off the ground to swing higher.
"If it was everything you dreamed of. If you missed home. If you made friends," he listed out, looking over at you.
You sighed and thought back. Over the past few weeks since you'd been back, everyone had asked you the same questions. For the most part, you had given the same answer to all of them robotically, but you felt like Sungchan deserved a bit more than your usual spiel.
"The city was incredible. New York was always my dream. I got to travel a little around the country too, so that was nice. It got really lonely pretty quickly, even though I made a lot of friends. It's just so busy and everyone has their own thing," you recounted slowly, "I missed home as soon as I left, but I do miss the friends I made in New York. America is very different to Seoul though."
"Did you mean what you said at the party? There was no one else?" his voice was shaky as he asked. You knew it wasn't something he took lightly.
"I wouldn't lie to you," you affirmed strongly, "I really did miss you and regretted everything the second I left. I was too ashamed to admit my mistake, so I'm sorry for hurting you unnecessarily. I don't regret going to New York, but I regret leaving you."
He stops the swing by planting his feet firmly. His eyes bore into yours as he tried to analyse your emotions.
"I grew a lot in that year apart, so I guess I should thank you for that. I learned that I should fight for what I want and I think we can be better this time around," Sungchan nodded, "And I missed you a lot. I keep saying it, but I just want you to know I never hated you or thought of you in anger while you were away."
The silence that followed must have freaked him out a little because he quickly continued.
"And about Jiyoon. Just, um, ignore her, please. I never knew she felt that way and I promise that I never acted in a way that might have conveyed that I felt the same," Sungchan blurted out with wide eyes, "I just- didn't know how to bring you up to her. We honestly didn't see each other very much; she just exaggerated."
You giggled a little at his panic and reached over the iron links to take his hand, "I trust you, Sungchan. You were free to do anything you wanted, but still, I trust you. You're allowed to have friends."
With a squeeze of his hand, Sungchan stood up and loomed over you on your swing. He tugged softly to get you up on your feet and clasped his hands around your waist when you did. Sungchan pulled you close to him, chest to chest.
Gasping, you looked around to make sure the playground was still empty, "Sungchan!"
He nuzzled his face down, close against yours with your foreheads pressed together, "You're all I could ever want. Please don't leave me again."
Your body completely melted into his as you brought your cold hands up to his warm cheeks. Bravely, you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely missing his lips, "I won't, Channie."
"Is it too fast to tell you I love you? I've been waiting to say it for over a year," Sungchan pulled his head back and scrunched his face up, "Does that make me too much of a loser? Being this down bad for you?"
All the tension and stress left your body; you could finally return to normal and joke with Sungchan as you giggled into his neck, "Maybe. Do you not want to be?"
"No, I love you," he chuckled along, grazing his nose against yours again before pressing his warm lips on yours.
His lips were pillowy, parting your lips and allowing him to push deeper. He was much more gentle this time than the night before, but a squeeze on your waist caused your breath to hitch and allowed him to run tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel the outpour of emotions in his kiss and how desperate he was to let you know them.
In the year without Sungchan, your heart grew fonder and fonder and you thought to yourself how you were never going to waste another minute with him.
Sungchan had been the first to pull away, looking down at you with half-lidded, passion-filled eyes, "Let's go back before some family comes and reports us to the police."
"Ha, for doing what?" you teased, hooking your fingers around his belt loops.
His eyes transformed into a glare as he stepped away from you and moved towards the exit, "Very funny, Y/N. Yours or mine?"
"Mine," you shrugged, "Minjeong's out with Heeseung and your frat brothers are all home and hungover."
Sungchan just grinned at you, swinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight to his body, "I can't wait to tell everyone you're mine again."
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
The last game of the season was the national finals. You had been nervous all week watching Sungchan leave every day for extra practice when he usually only trained once a week with the team.
With a cup of cola in one hand and a cardboard sign in the other, you fought through the crowd on the bleachers to find the available seat between some of your friends. Minjeong was already settled in her seat, scolding Seunghan and Sohee for playing with her I <3 Heeseung homemade headband.
"You made it!" Chanyoung clapped happily as you sat between him and his older cousin. On the other side of him, the rest of the boys waved at you excitedly.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, of course!" you beamed. The whole arena was vibrating with excitement as nearly the whole student population turned up for the game. It was the final big event in the school calendar before the stress of final exams took over, so everyone was letting their hair down a little.
There was a section of supporters of the other team tucked away in the corner, but otherwise the people meshed together in a sea of your school colours. They had won the draw as to which school the game would be played at. You yourself was sporting a jersey nearly identical to the one that Sungchan would be coming out in soon. The shirt on his back fit his frame nicely, but it draped over you like a dress.
"Channie's gonna play good tonight because his lucky charm's here," Wonbin snorted teasingly, "He was shit all of last season."
"Wonbin," Eunseok hissed, but you just laughed with the long-haired boy.
"I'm really excited. I know they'll win." you waved the "GO #23" sign towards them.
You watched the field in anticipation as they ran out to erupting cheers from the supporters and watched as Sungchan searched the crowds for his group of friends as soon as they settled in a line. He waved in a small gesture, but all of you stood up and flailed your hands everywhere. You shook the sign vigorously and watched as his face contorted in awe and appreciation.
The game was absolutely nerve wracking. Your arms were interlocked and clutched tightly with Minjeong's and the two of you moved like one being standing up to shout at bad referee decisions or cheer at good tackles. Heeseung and Sungchan were playing well up front together, dominating the field so far with a few decent shots on target. Being the most dangerous on the field, the other team's defence were taking them on left, right and centre, causing your faces to be stuck in a permanent grimace for the first half.
Seunghan tried to start a cheer at half-time and that provided enough entertainment for your group when it miserably failed to notice the passage of time. In fresh shirts and refreshed motivation, your team went all out and scored 2 goals. Heeseung's celebrations towards Minjeong were sweet and had her swooning with flushed cheeks.
The other team had managed to score a goal, but in the 87th minute, Sungchan had broken away from his marker around the halfway line and poured all of his might into completing his run to the goal. The goalkeeper had a lot of time to anticipate Sungchan's goal, but his left foot was powerful enough to send the ball hurtling past the keeper's fingers and into the back of the net.
Screaming and yelling in joy, Sungchan slid in the direction of your friends and blew kisses in your direction. Beaming ear to ear, you deafened your friends with your ecstatic whoops. His teammates jumped on his body and then dragged him back to his position for the final 3 minutes.
Safe to say, they won the final.
After a celebration with medals, Prosecco and school cheers, you were waiting in the lobby just outside the changing rooms.
Sohee was talking your ear off about some game that he had started playing with Seunghan when a hand snaked around your waist and you felt the flutter of lips hovering over your neck.
"There's my girl. Hi, baby," he murmured against you. After sweating for 90 minutes, the boys definitely all had to take showers, so his hair was still slightly dripping over the jersey on your back.
"Channie, I'm so proud of you. Congratulations!" spinning around in his grip, you hooked your arms around his neck as he buried his head in yours.
"Your support meant everything to me. Thank you for the banner! I have the best girlfriend ever," he pulled back and beamed down at you, planting a peck on your expectant lips.
Despite having been officially his girlfriend for over 6 months now, the title still made your heart flutter to this day. You'd never forgive your past self from depriving yourself from having Sungchan as you had him now. Despite being the sweetest companion in your early university days, he had held himself back a little due to your hesitation.
Now that you were all in, Sungchan showered you with love, praise and support in anything you did. You tried your best to reciprocate and most days, it felt like your heart could explode every time you looked at him from how your love seemed to grow more and more every day.
He was the perfect gentleman and the perfect boyfriend. He brought you snacks whenever you had to stay late at the library and tucked you tight in his chest under the covers on the days that the world seemed to be collapsing - it never did, maybe thanks to him.
In short, adoring Sungchan became part of your daily routine. A task that you were happy to continue for the rest of your life.
"And I have the most amazing boyfriend in the world," you rested your cheek against his chest as you squeezed him tighter, "I love you, Sungchan."
His heartbeat thumped in your ear as he smoothed out your hair with his palm. The rhythm was strong and constant, as dependable as he was. You felt the love in his touch, no need for words.
Jung Sungchan was a man of his word. As long as you stayed by each other's side, everything would be okay. The world continues to spin. Your heart continues to beat for him.
626 notes · View notes
dixonsbrat · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𖥔
Tumblr media
summary ; after being struck by a peacekeeper, coryo puts aside his differences to clean you up.
pairing ; coriolanus snow x fem!reader
notes ; pls coryo may be a little ooc in this but i tried. ok? i tried! physical violence, mentions of blood and death, as well as the events that take place in the hunger games universe, spoilers for tbosas !
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
Tumblr media
the blow sent a stinging sensation through your cheek, the level of force behind it knocking you to the ground on impact. you had always wondered what it would feel like to be hit in the face – if you would be able to take it – and well, now you knew.
you sat there on the ground, a spectacle among the crowd, and all because you were helping an elderly lady and unknowingly stepped into the peacekeeper’s way. you didn’t mean to, and before you knew it his leather glove was colliding with the side of your face. 
you loathed the peacekeepers, everyone did, but specifically the way they thought they could belittle you and your people just because of their job title. and yet, it terrified you to know how harsh they were over something so small, you couldn’t even begin to think how torturous they could be behind closed doors. 
once the peacekeepers move on, laughing among themselves at what they had done to you, a man and his wife help you to your feet, and you dust yourself off. your palms burned from the rubble you had landed on, small rocks sticking into your skin, and your head was ringing, but nothing compared to the side of your face. 
you were tough, there was no doubt about it, but having the peacekeeper’s hand collide with your face with such force had you a little shaken up. 
“i’m okay, everyone,” you let the group of onlookers, and those that had helped you, know. with a faux smile and a reassuring nod, you quickly return to helping the woman pick up her belongings that had been knocked over in the midst of it all. 
“oh, don’t worry about me, dear. go take care of yourself,” she gestures to your face and your hand instinctively reaches to feel the wet cut that had formed on your lip. a small speckle of blood now on your fingers as a metallic taste fills your senses. it ached to touch, and if it looked bad now, you could only imagine how bad it was going to be later. 
you take your leave from the woman and make your way home along the seam. the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds as the sound of the town drowns out behind you and into the distance. people watched as you passed them by, noticing the blood on your face and probably wondering what had happened. 
you didn’t mind the stares, not much happened in the district, and it wasn't as if you had anything to be ashamed of. well, not that anyone knew of anyway. 
you eventually make it to the last stretch of the dirt path before your house when your name gets called out, stopping you in your tracks, and in the direction it had come from were a couple more peacekeepers. though, these ones didn’t instil fear in you the same way the others had. 
they were familiar faces – faces that you were somewhat glad to see – however, you weren’t sure how they were going to react seeing the new feature that had been ever so kindly bestowed upon your face. 
sejanus waves you over, tapping his partner on the shoulder once he notices, and gestures towards you. coriolanus stands beside him, turning your way after seeing the panicked look on his friend's face, and his smile drops the second he sees the cut on your lip and the bruise that had already begun to form. 
“y/n…” he speaks your name delicately, a forbidden whisper, before rapidly scanning your surroundings to make sure the area was safe. it was. “what happened?”
he wants to reach for you, to pull you into his arms and kiss you better, anything he can to make sure you were okay, but he can’t. he knows that. it would be too much of a risk in such an open space and he wasn’t going to be the reason you end up with another bruise, or worse. so he quickly fixes his posture and positions his gun against his shoulder where it was meant to be. 
“oh, this? it’s nothing,” you wave them off, even adding a wink to further convince them that you were fine.
sejanus smiles, even stifles a laugh at your nonchalant attitude, but not coriolanus. no. he could see right through the smile you were presenting them with. how could he not? he had spent far too much time staring at you, his lover, whether it be from across the town square, or beside you in your bed. he knew every which way your face contorted and exactly what it meant. 
he could see you were in pain. 
his jaw tightens at this, fighting the urge to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder so that he could take you home. it was one thing to have to watch the horrors and physical brutality that went on in the district every day, most of which he had become numb to, but seeing you be the victim of it filled him with not only rage, but fear. 
he wanted – no, needed – you to be safe. 
“is there anything we can do?” sejanus offers. “anything we can get you?”
“don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine,” you smile once again, though this time, coriolanus refuses to sit by and watch you lie. 
“can you cover for me?” he asks, though you know it’s meant for sejanus, who instantly nods at the request, further proving his loyalty to his friend. “go home and wait for me. i won’t be long, just don’t touch it.”
while you wanted nothing more than for coriolanus to follow you home, you knew he couldn’t. it wasn’t safe, not while the sun was still out, “no, i’m fine. i promise.”
“just do what i say, okay?” his eyes bore into you now, an urgency in them as his protective side comes into play, and you knew there was no point trying to argue with him when he got like this. 
you nod, begrudgingly, and lazily salute the pair before continuing on down the path to your house. it was only a little ways away from where the boys had spotted you, but the second you see the chipping wood and beaten down stairs that you called ‘home’, you’re overcome with relief. 
upon entering you immediately splay yourself down on the sofa — one of the few pieces of furniture you still owned after your parents — and wait, just like coriolanus had asked you. your head had stopped ringing a little, but the throbbing pain in your cheek was still there. nonetheless, you knew it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight come morning. 
minutes pass, twenty-seven to be exact, before you hear shuffling at your back window, followed by heavy footsteps. you knew it was coriolanus. he regularly came through the back of the house so as not to be seen by your neighbours, but like you always tell him, barely anyone bothered to come down your way. 
the second his face comes into view, you let off a weak smile, more so as he begins to remove his uniform, placing it down on the table in the corner of the room, alongside his gun, “i don’t have long. sejanus is covering for me, but even he knows it won’t be long before they start wondering where i am.”
“you really didn’t have to come. i told you, i’m fine,” you sit up now as coriolanus meets your side with a small package in his hand. 
the look in his eyes shifts as he gets a closer inspection of the damage that had been done to your face, a heavy breath falling from his lips. coriolanus believed people deserved to be punished for the things they did, but not you – never you. you were his girl, his flower, his love – and he had been doing everything in his power to make sure you were safe. 
he knew it wasn’t his fault what had happened earlier, but he still couldn’t help but feel somewhat to blame. he should’ve been there to stop the situation, de-escalate it in any way that he could. he had been doing everything in his power to keep you off the other peacekeeper’s radars, away from any potential danger, and selfishly, away from him ever losing you. 
you watch as the stiffness in his jaw goes slack and his shoulders slump a little, eyes downturing as his lips push out into a pout ever so slightly. you reach for his hand, “coryo, what’s wrong?”
“i just… i don’t like to see you hurt,” he pulls his gaze away from you now, wanting to avoid thinking about it, and begins to unwrap the small package in his hand to reveal a mini first-aid kit. “i grabbed what i could without anyone seeing me, though i doubt you’ll need most of it.” 
you watch as he gathers a small cloth, coated with a disinfectant solution and gently dabs at the cut on your lower lip. it stings a little but you didn’t mind, you’d do just about anything to get a moment alone with coriolanus. perhaps getting hit in the face wasn’t all bad, at least the outcome of it anyway. 
once the cut was cleaned, he pulls out a small bandage and presses it across your lip. you weren’t sure you really needed it but it felt nice to be looked after. as for the bruise, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do. 
“how does it look?” you sigh, and he reaches up to gently brush the tender skin. 
“it looks… like it needs something,”
“and what’s that?” coryo’s lips quirk up into a roguish grin before he slowly leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek. it’s soft and sweet, and gentle. all of the things coryo was when it was just the two of you alone. “you know what? i think you might be onto something.”
coryo’s laughter reverberates through his entire body, looking at you with glistening eyes, but he gives in, pressing another kiss to your lips, and what starts as a light brush of your lips on his becomes much more when you find yourself pushing him backwards on the sofa. he doesn’t protest and lets himself fall into the cushion behind him as you situate yourself on his lap. there’s no hesitation when his hands cup your thighs, running small comforting circles into your skin. 
you stay like that for a few moments, small trickles of laughter escaping you both as you continue to kiss before you evidently decide to curl yourself up into him. you nuzzle your head into his chest, one leg still draped across his as the other burrows in next to him and instinctively his hand searches for yours - fingers idly grazing one another before he threads his through to hold you. 
“so, what’s the verdict doc? will i make it?” you smile. 
“as long as i have anything to do with it,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, but you can’t help but feel like there was another meaning to his words. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
dark-fics-4-you · 11 months ago
Text
Crocodile Tears
Tumblr media
Dark!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader
You and Coryo are academy students who were both selected to mentor tributes in the Hunger Games. Coryo becomes competitive and refuses to realize that his unreturned affections have begun to affect his performance. Frustrated by what he perceives to be you leading him on, Coryo delves deeper into his obsession and eventually gives in to the desires he tried so hard to deny.
Warnings: noncon, oral (m!recieving), forced sex, Reader loses her virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, slight breeding kink, choking, slapping, degradation, slut shaming, misogyny, coryo is somewhat delusional (so basically in character lol), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
Coriolanus’ palms were slick with perspiration as he flexed his hands anxiously.
Every noise in the room seemed amplified, his heart was beating so hard in his chest he was shocked his classmates couldn’t hear it.
Each name that Dean Highbottom read off that wasn’t his own was more painful than the last.
“Y/N Y/L/N!”
His head swiveled to look at you as you rose, pride written across your face at the confirmation of your place in the class.
The sounds of the applause filled the atrium and the classmates seated beside you congratulated you. After all, they were all within the top 4, districts that had much higher chances of winning the Games.
“Miss Y/L/N, you are assigned the District 4 girl, Coral.”
“Thank you!” You beamed, graciously accepting your place near the top.
Coriolanus’ face felt hot as he glared at you, toxic competitiveness rising in his chest.
It’s not like you were all that much better than him, you were a teachers pet and everyone knew it. Always kissing up to them and being so apologetic whenever you made even the most minor mistake.
It made him nauseous.
Not to mention the fact that there had been rumors that you had given a few favors to professors along the way in return for better grades.
He definitely believed it too.
Despite the sweet front you put up, Coryo just didn’t buy it. He had seen you in too many classes, it seemed like you were always stressed and complaining about school, despite getting top marks in almost every class.
The blond had spent many hours in class just staring at you, watching you pay attention in class and ask questions. He often found himself studying your face more frequently than he was studying his class work. Every facial expression that you made irked him to the core.
Each blank look you gave after being called on when you weren’t following along or the frustrated way you creased your eyebrows together was further proof that you didn’t belong at the same level as him.
But even more obnoxious was when you were right in class, which was a lot of the time. He hated the way your face lit up when you were told you were correct or the way you eagerly asked questions or got lost talking about a subject you found interesting.
He wondered who your family was, your last name wasn’t familiar but you had always seemed well off enough. Maybe your parents had bribed someone to keep you afloat? Or maybe the rumors were true, maybe you had been passing your classes just based off of your looks and extra time put in at their office hours.
It didn’t add up to him.
It wasn’t fair. His classmates were a bunch of idiots, so far below him they couldn’t even realize it. Even Sejanus, whose name had already been called, was much more insignificant than him.
So why hadn’t his name been called yet?
“Coriolanus Snow!”
His heart stopped at the sound of his name, blood rushing in his ears as he stood up.
He didn’t even know which district he was being called for.
“Runt girl, district 12, belongs to you.”
His stomach dropped when he heard the number.
12?? Could there be a bigger slap in the face? It couldn’t be right. He thought that he was better than that, he knew that he was better than that.
But he bit his tongue, metaphorically and literally, tasting the rush of blood in his mouth as he clenched his jaw, glancing at the screen as he watched the dark haired girl walk up to the reaping platform.
“What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?” Coryo’s classmates snickered behind him.
He saw her reach behind her back before dropping a snake down the dress of a red headed woman in the crowd.
The students in the hall around him began to chatter loudly in disbelief.
Lucy Gray walked up the steps of the reaping platform only to be punched by a man at the front of the stage. A peacekeeper swarmed in, pulling him away from the fallen songbird.
Coryo couldn’t take his eyes off of the district girl, surprised when she approached the microphone at the front of the stage and began to sing.
Her voice cut through the crowd of the audience in District 12 and the academy hall, filling the space entirely.
“Nothing you can take from me
Was ever worth keepin'
Nothing you can take
Was ever worth keepin'
Can't take my charm
Can't take my humor
You can't take my wealth
'Cause it's just a rumor
Nothing you can take
Was ever worth keepin'
You can't take my sass
You can't take my talkin'
You can kiss my ass!”
At the last line, madness broke out around him as the students and laughter and shouts filled the hall.
Whispered inquires and pointed looks were tossed Coriolanus’ way, but he paid no attention to them. No, his gaze was locked on you, still seated and appearing to be lost in thought.
How badly he wished he had access to what you were mulling over. Perhaps strategy to help your tribute win? Maybe you were comparing your tribute to the others. Or maybe… he contemplated, dark thoughts crossing his mind.
Maybe you were plotting a way to get his sickly tribute eliminated early on, so he would have no chance at the Plinth prize at all.
Maybe you were laughing at him in your head because he was at the very bottom of the list, despite how much more he believed he deserved your spot than you did.
Blind rage began to clutch at his heart and lungs. He was certain that you were looking down on him, pitying him.
He was stuck with some district 12 song bird, while you got a career killer.
Now your chances of winning the Plinth prize was even higher. Despite all the reassurances from their professors, Coryo knew that winning the games played a factor in their decision, and the odds were very much not in his favor.
The academy mentors all stood, filing out of the hall, each of them excitedly talking about their tributes.
Coryo scanned for your face and he was a bit surprised to see that you still looked troubled. There was a frown on your face as your classmates discussed why they thought their tributes were going to either win the Games or die in the first five minutes.
You almost looked sad, but why would you be? You had a career tribute, one that was almost guaranteed to do well in the Games and likely curry plenty of favor and popularity from the Capital.
The blond scoffed at you, thinking back to his underfed, musician of a tribute and he cringed. He deserved what you had, the success that you had achieved should have been his own.
He was ripped from his thoughts, ears perking up when he heard you speak.
“I think I’m going to go visit my tribute once she gets to the Capital. I mean, don’t they practically ship them over here in cages? They’re probably exhausted by the time they arrive, that’s no shape to win the Games in. And besides, they’re humans too, don’t they deserve a little kindness before going to their deaths?”
The genuineness in your voice made him pause, was it possible you actually cared for these district scum? But when he looked into your eyes, there was no glimmer of mischievousness, no sign of a sinister master plan.
Coryo wasn’t even quite sure what compelled him to speak because before he could realize what he was doing, he was offering to accompany you to the train station.
Your head swiveled to his, eyebrows knotting in confusion as you regarded him. “Oh, really Coriolanus? I didn’t realize you saw the people from the districts as anything more than animals?” You snickered, referencing some of his previous comments in class.
Coryo’s face felt hot and he was sure his cheeks were growing red. He clenched the fists that were resting by his side before taking a breath to calm himself. He wasn’t going to let you embarrass him in front of his classmates.
“I got stuck with district 12, I’m gonna need to take any opportunity I can to push her over the finish line. Someone’s gotta give that girl a meal. And like you said, they’re human, just like us.” Coryo’s response shocked him even as his mouth formed the words. Words he didn’t truly believe.
It was funny, he thought to himself, if he had heard Sejanus say the same, his eyes probably would have rolled out of his head.
It had never even occurred to him to go visit his tribute. Coryo didn’t really care all that much whether she lived or died, but for some strange reason, if going to visit Lucy Grey meant that he could spend a little extra time with him, Coryo would have said anything to tag along.
Your eyes softened as you looked at him, surprised when you saw him in a light you never had before. “Do you really mean that?”
Your naivety was almost charming and Coriolanus flashed you a kind grin before nodding. It was adorable how easily you accepted his lies.
The short walk to the train station was uneventful. You seemed reluctant to speak with him, no doubt put off by some of the past comments Coryo had made about the districts.
If you weren’t going to talk or even, at the very least, look at him, Coriolanus decided he could spend the time studying you. He had never spent this much time with you, aside from in his classes.
He had also never realized how nice you smelled, like lavender and honey, and he was having trouble remembering just why he disliked you so much, when your voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“I can’t remember, do we turn on this street or the next?” Your timbre was soft and sweet, it reminded him of his mother’s.
“It’s this one,” he responded, a memory of going to the trains frequently in his childhood in the hopes that his father would be coming back home from the districts pushed it’s way into the forefront of his thoughts.
The two of you walked in silence, and then stood in silence for over an hour while you waited for the train to come. When it finally pulled into the station, your respective introductions to the tributes were hurried. The Peacekeepers quickly ushered them away from the station before herding them towards a truck.
Coriolanus was ready to call it a day after meeting Lucy Grey at the station, put off by their strange interaction, do people from the districts regularly eat rose petals, he thought to himself with a chuckle.
So he was more than a little surprised when he saw you approaching the caged trucks filled with the tributes.
“Y/N?” He loudly whispered. “What are you doing?”
“I want to know where they take them, plus we could both get more time with our tributes,” you explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Coryo felt a pang of anger rise in him at you patronizing him.
“Well I knew that,” he responded, trying to cover for himself. “But don’t you think we should be more careful?”
But you didn’t even hear him, already climbing into the back of the truck that your tribute had disappeared into. Coryo knew that he couldn’t let you go all alone, what if those tributes hurt you? Or worse, what if you getting more time with your tribute right now could be the thing that won you the Plinth prize over him?
Before he was given the chance to really think it over, he found his legs moving him forward and he jumped into the truck behind you.
Tumblr media
Despite how soon the Games were, Coryo found himself struggling to focus his thoughts on ways to help his tribute.
You had been the only thing that Coriolanus Snow could think about the past twenty-four hours.
He had tried very hard to think it over, and he had come to the conclusion that he had never met someone who could irk him so deeply.
Coriolanus had forgotten all about his lie to you that he was going to bring Lucy Grey food after meeting her at the train, but he was shocked when you pulled several sandwiches out of your bag. Apparently, you had been planning to offer food to any tribute that would take it.
It was an idiotic move if Coryo had ever seen one. I mean, why in the world would you think that feeding every tribute would do anything but hinder your own?? Now they would all be going into the stadium with semi-full stomachs.
Still, at least that meant that he had been able to feed his sad excuse of a tribute.
It was impossible for him to focus on Lucy Grey while you could be out there pulling another stunt to propel yourself towards the Plinth prize. Of course you already had it so easy with the tribute you were assigned.
Coryo’s mind could not shut off, racing a hundred miles an hour towards the same thought over and over and over again.
He had to do something about you.
You and your tribute were too much of a threat to him. Coriolanus needed to win the Plinth prize, and he knew that you were the biggest threat standing in his way.
There had to be some way that he could give Lucy Gray another advantage without being caught.
The addition of the drones providing food and water was good, but not good enough. And he had only given her enough rat poison in his mother’s compact to kill two tributes, or seriously injure four.
Dr. Gaul loved his proposal for the games, it was just such a shame that Clemmie had to try to take the credit for herself.
With a flash, Coriolanus sat up in his bed, an idea striking him like a lightning rod. He walked to the closet where his jacket was hung up and he grabbed the handkerchief he had given to dry Lucy Gray’s tears.
After quickly trekking across the city to Dr. Gaul’s laboratory, thoroughly pleased when the guards let him through to tell them he was there to see her, he headed to her laboratory, knowing full well that she had already left for the day about 2 hours ago.
Planting the handkerchief was easy, walking out without being questioned by the guards was easier.
With his head held high, Coriolanus swiftly made his way back to his apartment.
However, his euphoria wore off quickly when he remembered that even if he could protect Lucy Grey from the snakes, he had no way to protect her from the career tributes.
Coryo wondered what you had been telling to Coral, what strategies you were instructing her to follow. Maybe you told her to pick out the weakest links first, which would include that sickly tribute from 11, the young girl from 8, and Coriolanus’ songbird.
It made him feel sick, and he was happy that his father wasn’t around to witness his inevitable spectacular failure.
It just wasn’t fair at all. How had he been placed at dead last, while the dumbest girl that he knew probably had a 1-in-4 chance of winning the games.
Rage boiled inside of him, keeping him awake for hours as he tossed and turned in his bed, and he cursed you for costing him precious sleep at a time like this.
For reasons he couldn’t figure out, Coriolanus’ thoughts were fixated not on the Games, not on his tribute, and not even on his growling stomach.
No, he just could not stop himself from wondering, and picturing, whose cock you had to suck to get that spot.
Tumblr media
The games were horrific, of course. Despite having seen them nine times at this point, you still felt so queasy when the first canon shot off and the tributes ran from their platforms.
You could barely stomach watching, even though you knew that you needed to if you wanted your tribute to survive.
After the initial bloodbath, the number of tributes was effectively cut in half. Surprisingly, Coriolanus’ tribute had been holding her own, but so was yours.
Each fallen tribute stung you, knowing that they were all just innocent kids, none of them were old enough to fight in the rebellion against the capital, and if you had been born in the districts, that could have easily been you in that arena.
You were sure that was heavy on Sejanus’ mind too.
The hours and days blurred together, your stomach was in knots as you lay in bed each night, hoping that no tributes would die as you slept.
The first day you returned, on the second day of the games, there had been a death in the arena overnight, the District 8 kid, Bobbin. None of the cameras had captured what occurred, and none of the tributes made mention of killing him.
Each day that you returned and found your tribute alive, you thanked your lucky stars. Coral was very strong and cunning and you felt very lucky and proud that you had received such a good tribute assignment.
Still, you couldn’t help yourself but worry about Lucy Grey and her mentor. Lucy’s song had genuinely moved you during the tribute interviews and you felt very sad at the idea that your tribute’s victory would mean Lucy Grey’s death.
Coriolanus genuinely had surprised you when he followed you to the train station, you hadn’t expected him to care at all about his tribute outside of what her winning would mean for him.
He was scrappy and you had to give him that. Perhaps there was a side to him that you hadn’t considered before.
Although, you still were wary about keeping him at arms length, the way that he had talked about the districts in your class rubbed you the wrong way, especially when you knew that Sejanus, his best friend, was from the very same districts Coriolanus trash talked.
You were less than amused at some of the actions he took throughout the game. After discovering that the arena water drones were primitive at best, and likely to slam into whatever they targeted, when your tribute and several other cornered Lucy Grey, Coriolanus called in several drones that smashed into your tribute and the others, allowing Lucy Grey to flee to safety.
“He can’t do that! It’s cheating!” You fumed furiously, hoping that Dr. Gaul or the other officials would listen to you.
“I’m just sending them water,” he smirked back at you. In the end, nothing was done to punish him.
More tributes fell, some meeting more gruesome deaths than others, but your tribute was still doing very well.
The days dragged on tortuously, but the final day was the worst of all.
The tributes had all moved from the sewers and into the main arena area, before Dr. Gaul announced her intentions to drop the snakes into the arena following the rebel bombing of the arena before the games and the death of the President’s son.
The snakes erupted into the arena, easily taking out the remaining tributes until only Lucy Grey and Coral were left, vying to stay alive, trying to attack each other
As the snakes slithered over both of them, Lucy Grey began to sing.
Coral was overtaken by the colorful serpents, but for some reason, Lucy Grey didn’t met the same fate.
“Why aren’t they attacking her??” You questioned.
“I think it’s the singing!” Coriolanus responded and you narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a strange suspicion growing in the back of your mind.
Dr. Gaul had clearly not expected the academy students to react so strongly to Lucy Grey’s performance, her voice captivated everyone in the hall, even you.
“Dr. Gaul, please!” Coriolanus implored her again, and to your surprise, the rest of the students in the hall began to chant.
“Stop the games! Stop the games! Stop the games!”
She clearly knew when she was outnumbered, and she stared at the screen as the snakes crawled over Lucy Grey with a sour look on her face before finally conceding. “Get her out of there!”
Lucy Grey was announced the winner of the 10th Hunger Games, and although you were happy that she had survived, there was a nagging feeling that Coriolanus hadn’t won the games fair and square.
How had Lucy Grey survived the snakes? Where did she get the poison she used to kill Dill? Was it fair that Lucy Grey would have been dead by Coral’s hands had Coriolanus not stepped in and launched the water drones at the career tributes?
The celebrations in the capital among the students after the games lasted several hours, going well into the night.
You had stuck around for most of it, but you found it hard to celebrate Coriolanus’ win.
Because you knew that he hadn’t followed the rules. And the more you thought it over, the more it began to piss you off. You decided that you needed to leave the party, opting to head back to the Games control room you had been in the last several days to see if you could rewatch some footage.
Tumblr media
Coriolanus hadn’t seen you in a couple hours, and he couldn’t figure out why that upset him. After all, hadn’t you raised a stink about him using the drones during the Games? If anyone had given your words any merit, he could have been penalized, or maybe even disqualified.
Maybe it was a good idea to try to find you and make sure that you wouldn’t say anything else about it.
When he couldn’t find you at the party, he headed to the Academy, searching through rooms until he found you seated alone, reviewing the games in the control room.
“Funny finding you here.”
You jumped at the sound of his voice, surprised when you whirled around and saw Coriolanus.
“Coriolanus,” you breathed. Why did you suddenly feel so anxious to see him? Could he know that you had suspicions about him? “Why aren’t you still out celebrating?”
“To be honest, I was looking for you.” He admitted, taking a step forward and allowing the door to slam shut behind him.
“You were?” You asked, heartbeat picking up at the sound of the door closing. Coriolanus walked further into the room, eyes locked on you.
“I just.. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened during the games, it wasn’t my intention at all for that water to hit your tribute and her teammates.” You could tell that he was trying to put as much charm on as possible, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were being lied to. “I’m sorry that Coral died in the end.”
“Bullshit.” The words came out of your mouth before you could think them over.
The blond’s eyebrows raised in surprise, jaw clenching as he realized you weren’t buying it. He advanced further, now only a couple feet away from you, and you took a step back. He was now so close that he could smell your familiar floral scent.
You didn’t know why he was trying to get closer to you, but you knew that you really didn’t want him to, continuing to back away from him as he followed.
“You don’t get to just cheat and get away with it. We both know that those snakes should have killed Lucy Grey.”
“You think that I don’t deserve the Plinth prize?” The smell of lavender and honey was clouding his thoughts. Why did you always smell so good?
“Coriolanus I never said-”
“No!” he cut you off, moving closer, and you were surprised when you backed into a wall, feeling intimidated by, and maybe even a bit afraid of, Coriolanus Snow for the first time. Before this moment, you had never really noticed how much taller he was than you. Sure he may have been underfed, but you couldn’t help but take in the muscles that strained the fabric near his biceps and shoulders as he towered above you. “I work harder than everyone else here, and what do I get most of the time? Scraps! All you have to do is cry once in class and every professor would line up to fuck you, and yet you still never took me seriously, Y/N.”
Your eyebrows shot up at his harsh words, frustration building in your chest. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, even though you could feel a lump forming in your throat and tears began to blur your vision. You couldn’t understand what his problem was with you, why he seemed to hate you so much. The snippy retort you had planned died on your lips when you saw his eyes darken.
“What? It’s not like it’s not true. Everyone has heard the rumors about your good grades. The only reason your tribute got as far as she did was because she was District 4!” His words were taunting, cruel even, and you hated the way he was looking down at you, as if you were nothing to him. Despite how furious he was with you in this moment, he couldn’t help but fixate on the scent of your perfume, it was clinging to the air and choking him, taunting him.
“I can’t believe this, I helped you out through the entire games! It was my idea to visit the tributes! I let you give my food to Lucy Grey! You know, there was a voice in the back of my head, Coriolanus, a voice that I tried to ignore, but I knew all along that letting you come with me to meet them was a bad idea!” Your harsh words stung him, and a fire was building inside his chest. He didn’t know why your anger towards him was affecting him so much.
“The only reason Lucy Gray won was because you cheated and everyone is going to find out-!” You were cut off when his large hand grabbed your throat, pushing you against the wall behind you and constricting your airflow. Your eyes widened, and Coriolanus thought to himself that he enjoyed the utter fear and panic in your eyes.
“You’re right,” he looked down at you, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips. “I never would have thought to go to visit the tributes. Because of your idea, I was able to turn the spotlight on to Lucy Grey instead of you.”
Suddenly he realized why he had been so fixated on you for so long, why he had been so eager to follow you to the train station the day of the tribute assignments, why his thoughts torturously lingered on the smell of your perfume and the way your hair framed your annoyingly perfect face, and why he got hard as a rock every time he imagined you pleasuring your professors to pass your classes.
All his life, Coriolanus had been desperately searching for control. After the rebels took everything from him, he had spent his childhood and teenage years powerless. Even Lucy Gray couldn’t completely be his, they said she was going to be shipped back to District 12 after the Games, but Coriolanus was sure he would never see her again. You had been handed everything that he had ever wanted, save the Plinth prize.
Maybe, the Plinth prize hadn’t been what he was after all along, he realized with a shock. Coriolanus hadn’t spent all those hours obsessing over you because he believed he was owed the Plinth prize. He had done it because he believed he was owed you.
Fear had your feet frozen in place, your body felt paralyzed. Was he going to hurt you or, worse, kill you??
The very last thing that you expected Coriolanus Snow to do in that moment was kiss you.
With his strong hand practically crushing your windpipe and pinning you in place, you had nowhere to turn when he pressed his lips to yours. His lips were warm, and softer than anyone else you had kissed, which was a horrible thing to notice in a situation like this.
You struggled against him, trying to shove him off of you to no avail, and the hand at your throat tightened. When you gasped for breath, Coryo took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. The feeling stirred something between your legs, a warmth began to dampen the panties you were wearing beneath your skirt, and your cheeks heated up in tandem, a hot flush breaking out across your face.
Tears began to prick at your eyes, and you let them gather there, foolishly hoping that if they could blot out the man in front of you, he might just go away.
Within a moment, your brain began to work again and you used your nails to scratch at the hand at your throat, breaking free at last. Your reprieve was much too brief, no sooner than the hurried “help!” fell past your lips, the blond struck you across the face, shocking you into silence again.
“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to hurt you, do you understand?” He hissed in your ear, not giving you any time at all before pulling you away from the wall by your neck and then forcing you to your knees in front of him. “No one else is here, they’re all out celebrating my victory.”
You winced at the sharp pain in your kneecaps, but more alarming was the look on your classmate’s face. You had always thought that Coriolanus held himself with dignity, that he was maybe even handsome, but this was a side of Coryo you had never seen before. His hair was disheveled from pushing you around, and his breath came in fast, uneven bursts. There was a deadly glint in his eyes that terrified you. He was clearly amused by your frightened state, the way his eyes drank you in pityingly did nothing to calm your nerves.
“You’re going to show me how you passed your classes all these years, Y/N,” Coryo sneered, laughing mirthlessly at his joke. To your horror, he brought his hands to his belt, undoing the buckle before unzipping the fly of his pants.
Your stomach dropped, shame blossoming through your entire body.
The honest truth was that you were a virgin.
You had never given any professors sexual favors or used your good looks to advance further than your classmates. Yes, you sometimes struggled with concepts in class, but you more than made up for it with after school study sessions and the frequent office hour with the academy professors. But you had never done anything close to what he was suggesting.
And yet, here you were, forced to your literal knees, all because Coriolanus Snow was jealous of something that had never happened.
You were pulled from your thoughts with a light slap on the cheek, not intended to hurt you that much, just enough to put you on edge again and get your attention. He was starting to get impatient.
His hard cock was thrust towards your face, and you were surprised and intimidated by how big he was. Coryo’s large hand wrapped around it and began to stroke himself.
“What’s the matter, Y/N?” He asked gruffly, his free hand gripping your chin and forcing you to peer up at him, “you didn’t have any problem opening your pretty mouth earlier.”
Your stomach rolled at his twisted joke and you blinked more tears from your eyes before glancing away. You couldn’t stand to look at him.
“Ah there are those crocodile tears. I wonder, did you cry like this when you came into our professors’ offices after hours? ‘I don’t know how I will pass this course, please, I’d do anything.’” He mocked you, or rather the version of you in his head, with a scowl before spitting out his next words. “So fucking pathetic.”
“C-coriolanus please,” you begged him, eyes shiny with tears.
For just the briefest second, doubt about his actions tonight passed through his heart, but it was gone the next moment when he felt his cock harden at your sweet voice whimpering his name and the delicious sight of you kneeling before him. You wanted this just as bad as he did, he knew it.
Coriolanus grabbed you by your chin, pulling you even closer before guiding his cock towards your trembling lips. When you didn’t open your mouth, his fingers clenched down on your jaw, and after you cried out, he took the opportunity to tilt his hips forward, pushing the tip of his cock past your lips.
He groaned at the feeling of your soft wet mouth enveloping him. Coryo slowly thrusted his dick deeper and when you gagged on him, throat closing up after he pushed you too far, he could have sworn he was in heaven.
The blond tangled his fingers into your hair, pushing you to go faster as you bobbed up and down. He didn’t want to close his eyes for one second, drinking in every detail he could. The way you glanced up at him through your teary eyes in fear, the lewd sounds of you sucking him off, how you could barely take all of his throbbing dick into your mouth, and the spit that gathered sloppily on your chin only drove on his pace.
There was something deeply satisfying to Coriolanus about breaking you, about shattering the idea that you were ever anything but a cock drunk whore. He knew that he had to be correct, because the evidence was right in front of him.
An innocent girl wouldn’t have led him on for so damn long. An innocent girl wouldn’t know how to take cock so well. An innocent girl wouldn’t be choking and gagging on him like one of the pin up girls he’d seen after his school buddies found their fathers’ old snuff film collections from before the war.
“You might have fooled everyone else, but you can’t trick me, Y/N,” he whispered, pulling harder on your hair and you yelped, or maybe moaned, around him, sending a sinful vibration across the tip and shaft of his cock.
“You’re doing such a good job, it’s only right I give you what you’ve wanted all along.” Coriolanus slowed his movements, using the fist in your hair to move you and let his cock slide out of your mouth. You gasped for air then, but your relief was short lived and bittersweet.
“Take off your clothes and get on your back, Y/N.” His voice was cold as snow, leaving no room for disagreement. You were terrified, completely unprepared in every way for what was coming. Coriolanus glared at you threateningly when you didn’t move for a few seconds, and resignedly, you stripped off your shirt and skirt, shifting yourself onto your back on the cold hard floor.
You already felt utterly exposed in just your bra and panties, but the look of disapproval in his eyes told you that you had to remove your underwear as well. You slowly unhooked your bra, sliding the straps down your arms to pull it off and Coryo felt his mouth water at the sight of your perfect breasts. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, climbing on top of you before you could get to your panties, straddling you and covering your lips with his own again.
This time, he noticed that you were resisting less, even kissing him back now. He had been right, you were teasing him and leading him on this entire time! This thought both encouraged and infuriated him, and he knew there was one way to confirm his suspicions.
His hand wandered lower past your stomach, eagerly reaching for your barely covered pussy. He pushed the material of your panties to the side, slowly dragging the tip of his finger down your embarrassingly wet slit.
You tensed at the feeling, biting your lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to sneak past, and Coryo noticed your efforts.
“It’s okay, Y/N. I know you want it too,” he whispered above you, slowly pushing two fingers into your tight cunt. “You don’t have to pretend that you don’t.”
His intrusion was painful and uncomfortable, you had never experienced anything like it. Coryo’s eyes were locked on your face as he lazily pushed his fingers in and out. His cock twitched every time you moaned, and he was eager to stuff your pretty swollen cunt.
Tears were filling your eyes again and you sniffled pathetically, shifting your hips to try to adjust to the foreign pressure between your legs, which Coryo interpreted as you trying to fuck yourself deeper onto his fingers.
“Greedy little slut, can’t wait till I split you open, hm?” He sneered cruelly and your face burned with shame. “Don’t cry, I’ll give you what you’re too proud to admit you need.”
He pulled his fingers out of your already sore pussy, smearing your juices on the soft flesh of your inner thigh, before grabbing your panties and pulling them down your legs, not caring that his force ripped them. Coryo grabbed your thighs, holding them open and pressing them down against the floor, not allowing you to squirm in his grasp, before lining his now throbbing cock up with your slick entrance.
Primal fear clutched your heart again, was this truly happening right now? How in the world did you get yourself into this situation with Coriolanus Snow of all people? Your first time was supposed to be special, shared with someone who felt love and compassion towards you.
Instead, you were utterly terrified of the man leering above you. You were surprised when you felt his hand clamp over your mouth, but you didn’t have any time to linger on that thought because Coriolanus was slowly pushing the head of his cock into your heat.
You couldn’t help but whimper against his palm at the feel of him beginning to stretch you out, and Coryo cursed under his breath when he slid deeper, feeling you squeeze tighter around each inch until he felt himself bottom out inside you. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh, giving him better leverage.
He took a moment to just bask in the feeling of you enveloping him, you were clenching around his cock so tight it was almost painful for him. He began to move his hips slowly at first, and when you let out a breathy moan at the feel, he felt confidence surge inside of him.
Coryo could literally feel you growing wetter with each thrust, allowing him to pull further out before plunging himself back in. You were gripping him so tight and your arousal only let him fuck you faster and harder. He hooked one hand under your thigh, pulling it up to wrap your leg around the back of his waist.
The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and you felt like you were being split in half, the pressure was so intense.
He slid his large hand away from covering your mouth and brought it back to your throat, wrapping the hand around it and applying pressure. You tensed around him and Coriolanus cursed at the sensation.
The blond was pushing his cock into you faster now, snapping his hips against yours at a pace that had your head spinning. Every drag of his cock against your walls made your toes curl. Coriolanus was addicted to way he could feel every moan and whimper in your throat against the hand that was choking you. Even if you wouldn’t let him hear them, he knew that he was making you feel good, whether you wanted him to or not.
His free hand creeped from your hip to find its home between your legs, earning a whine from you when he swirled the pad of his thumb across your clit. Coryo could feel you quivering around him, twitching beneath every touch.
He wanted to be closer to you still, and you flinched when his lips found yours again, his chest now pressed to yours and caging you in. You were too disgusted to kiss him back at first, but fear overtook your reservations when he clenched his hand around your throat harder. Your lips moved in time with his and you moaned against him when he rubbed your clit again.
The blond broke the kiss to attach his lips to the soft skin at the side of your neck, moving his hand to allow himself access to bite and suck at your tender flesh.
“Don’t fight it, I can feel your cunt pulling me in,” he growled in your ear and you shuddered at his words.
As his sharp thrusts rocked your frame, you realized that your cheeks were damp with tears. Had you started crying again? Maybe you had never stopped.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Coryo breathlessly admitted, to both you and himself. His eyes were fixed on your face, trying to commit every detail to memory.
“I thought you hated me,” you whimpered quietly, not sure if it was even loud enough for Coryo to hear. The whole building was silent, aside from the crude sounds of him plunging his cock into your slick folds and your stifled moans. You had almost forgotten that you had said something until he suddenly spoke.
“I thought I hated you too,” his voice was strained as he held back groans. “But then I realized how useful you could be if I kept you around.”
You already wanted to crawl out of your skin at his words, but the next thing he said made your blood turn cold.
“Did your parents pay for you to get birth control so their stupid daughter doesn’t get knocked up by her professors?” He asked you with a cruel glint in his eyes.
You understood his meaning instantly, shaking your head with widening eyes, “N-no! Coriolanus, please don’t-!” You were cut off by his hand clamping over your mouth again.
“Hmm, pity,” he taunted you, chuckling darkly, “better hope they’ll be willing to pay for an abortion.”
At this, you found your last bit of strength to fight back, scratching at the hand that was at your throat and trying to force him off of you, but your pathetic attempts only made him laugh.
Coryo’s hand clamped down around your throat, choking you harder than he had before. You could hear your heartbeat racing in your ears and the edges of your vision had started to go black.
His cock was hitting a spot that had your toes curling in unwelcome pleasure, and when you felt his fingers twitch around your throat again, the overstimulation was just too much for you.
You whined loudly as your orgasm forcefully washed over you, the tension that had been building inside you finally releasing itself. Coriolanus could feel you clenching and fluttering around him, squeezing his cock so fucking tight.
With another flex of his hips, he came, spilling his sticky seed into you as he groaned your name. You were pulsing around him, milking his cock of every last drop.
When he stilled, he stayed on top of you, finally releasing your now bruised throat. You tried to turn your head away from him, but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look in his eyes for a moment before his lips smothered yours again.
When he finally pulled away, he grinned down at you wolfishly, “fuck, Y/N. If I were one of our professors, I’d pass you too.”
1K notes · View notes
izzabela · 2 months ago
Note
Can you write about Bihan meets the reader as one of earthrealm's champions and immediately falls in love with her and is trying to find a way to be near her and ask her out on a date?
Melted Popsicle - Bi Han x fem!champion!reader (headcanons)
in which sunshine melts Bi Han
a/n: something something something bi han courts
ship[s]: bi han x fem!champion!reader
warning(s): none
Tumblr media
Bi Han doesn't really do "love at first sight", but when Bi Han falls, he'll fall hard
And when he meets you, one of Liu Kang's champions, during a training session with the Lin Kuei, oh elder gods does he fall
- Bi Han, just like his brothers, is a loyal man. from the mission, to his clan, Bi Han will stay with you for a very long time
- Bi Han will stand around you like a guard dog, a quiet and protective presence
- it's unsettling, but you don't let it deter you as you talk to him, and boy does he enjoy it
- he wouldn't say it though, he'd just listen and hum in agreeance. the sounds of your voice softens his hardened features
- he'll spar with you. a lot. that's how you, the other champions, and his brothers realize he's taken a liking to you
- he'll give you grace during sparring, more that usual. he'll point out your flaws and show you how to improve them ten-fold
- Bi Han starts eating with you too. he'll either sit with you, or he'll take the time to ask you (usually goes like, "Come eat")
- it gets serious when Bi Han is asking his brothers how approachable he looks. he'll (reluctantly) ask Tomas how he gets along with the initiates, and he'll ask Kuai Liang how women always flock to him whenever they're out and about off-duty
- Bi Han starts paying attention to the little things about you when he realizes the advice from his brothers doesn't help him (honestly, it scared you with how quick he changed his personality). he listens whole-heartedly to anything you say you like or don't like about different things
- and you know what they say, to be loved is to be seen. Bi Han starts getting stuff for you, always having an extra towel for breaks in between spars, water, he'll always grab two sparring weapons whenever it's time to practice or learn new things
- Bi Han also gives you, and only you, the ability to use his powers for personal uses. i HC that Bi Han used to use his ice powers to play with his brothers when he was younger (around maybe 13 y/o, he stopped). only for you will he create little figures of ice and snow, only you will he emit a chill aura to soothe your bruises
- at this point too, Bi Han, definitely spends the entire day with you. at least, he tries to. he does have to cycle between the other champions to watch them spar, but any waking minute not used by the others, he'll always be right next to you
- i'd like to think Bi Han, when alone, paces around in circles to figure out what to do for you next. very methodical that man is, and intentional too
- after a couple more weeks, he's starting to push the boundaries he has on himself to ask you out. he tries to drop hints, but the way he does it basically gives it away
- things like "what is your favorite place to eat?" or "do you have a place to yourself to relax?" even a "do you like to [insert fun activity]?" he's not very good at asking things discreetly
- if Bi Han is good at anything, though, it's sincerity. he gifts you lovely courting gifts: flowers, hand-made gifts from the tradespeople of Arctika, scents- all the romantic jazz
- i think what really gets you is the practical gifts Bi Han gives you. once again, "to be loved is to be seen" dwells in his soul so fiercely it scares you how well he gives you things. from a pouch that holds all things and remains weightless, to a athletic wear that has pockets for your phone- he sees you
- when Bi Han eventually asks you out to become his girlfriend, he has a whole speech prepared for you. it's really cute, honestly, mainly because they sound like vows for a wedding (totally not pregaming yours and his wedding)
- and he speaks eloquently, softly, voice barely above a whisper as you zone in on his words. how he describes your beauty, what you make him feel, how madly in love he's been since he laid eyes on you
- "a pestering thought," he says. "though, one i do not mind, and one i would keep in my mind until my memory fails."
Bi Han doesn't do "love at first sight", but when he does, he falls hard...
and it's a hundred miles an hour at that point on
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hey guys! i'm not dead!
1. school sem is going good so far, 2. i went to a concert last weekend for NIKI! 3. long nails are hard to type in...
okay see yall in the next fic!
323 notes · View notes
nosyrobin · 1 month ago
Text
“𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇: 𝐀 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞!”
TT!Robin x Superboy!Reader
Summary: When a young teen news reporter wanted to privately interview you after you save a people from a crashing building. Robin can’t help but get a “little” jealous seeing his boyfriend get rubbed on by the reporter.
Note|| maybe ooc for Robin?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Superboy flew in with quickness. He used his speed to stop debris falling on the pedestrians, even going as far to punch some into pieces that won’t cause no harm to any one.
The titans came in at the time when superboy saved a nearby reporter, she seemed fairly young to be a full one. As superboy picked her up bridal style and flew, he didn’t notice the loving gaze she gave him. Superboy sets her down far away and flys again back. Robin swings from his grapple hook by the super who landed on the ground. “Superboy! What’s the status?” Robin says standing by the boy looking around. “There’s a girl trapped under something.” The super immediately gets to the action.
Y/N carefully pulled all the pieces of stone and metal, he sees the girl and smiles softly. “Hey there…” the little girl sniffles, holding an American girl doll. Superboy picked up the girl and flew off, he carefully used his hearing to see where the mother could be. Shortly after that, superboy found the mother and gave the daughter safely to her.
Robin stayed a little after the rest of the team went back to the tower. Y/N was certainly surrounded by people thanking him for helping and saving them. Robin smiled as he stood by the super. “I’m glad you’re on the team superboy.” Y/N smiled warmly, his hand rested in the boy wonder’s shoulder.
“I’m glad too partner!” Before Robin can tell you both that you have to leave. The reporter you saved appears next to you with a smile. Robin raised a brow while you were shock by her sudden presence. You didn’t even hear her heartbeat next to you. “Superboy! I’m Helena Snow, reporter for jump city school and news.” You turn your head confused. “You don’t seem like one..you seem like my age?” Helena rolled her eyes. “Oh cmonnn, anyone can get a job at any age above 13. Or is the boy of steel that naive?” She immediately pulled out a notebook.
“Uhmmm…” you didn’t know what to say, but you could feel the glare of Robin at the back of your head. Sweat dropping at your secretive boyfriend, you focus back to Helena who smiled up at you. “Okay, so superboy, what’s it’s like working for the titans?” Y/N smile as Helena wrote what he had to say. “Well, Robin’s an amazing leader very good! I’m glad we have another alien on our team, starfire is very compassionate. Beast boy is amazing! He’s good at shape shifting at the right time, and he’s an amazing comedian in my tastes. Cyborg, he’s a cool dude. He’s half robot but he’s all the half we need on our team.”
“Woah! So passionate, so charming of you and your words!” Helena smiled, but her smile dropped seeing a gloomy Robin behind the super. Robin’s eyes were clearly trained on the reporter. Helena smirked at this, sensing something going on between the two heroes. “Say, that does the S stand for on your hero costume?” Helena started to touch the super’s chest. Y/N tensed as Robin was internally screaming seeing that girl’s hand rub up all over his boyfriend.
“Uh, on my father’s and my planet. The S stands for hope. Though here it’s just an S.” Y/N takes the girl’s hand off his chest. Now Robin was standing right beside the superboy who seemed to sense the negative energy.
“Okay last question..” Robin glared harder at the female. You felt tension between the two as Helena tilted her head teasingly at Robin before putting her attention at you. “Is the boy of steel single?” Now that was Robin’s breaking point. He pushed you behind him, he was not playing games. “He’s not answering that. That’s personal business, and I would like to say Mrs. Snow, I think he’s had enough of your questions.” Robin’s voice was stern and low as Helena smirked at this.
Helena tilted her head before speaking. “So, you’re jealous?” Is it bad to say Robin almost used the unisex hammer of justice on the reporter? The super had to grab the enraged boy wonder who tried to claw at the reporter. “Let me go!” He chanted as the superboy then lifted off into the air. “Bye Mrs. Snow!” Y/N says before flying. “Who does she think she is, huh?!” Y/N sighed at the angry Robin who ranted to himself personally at this moment.
“Dick. Calm down babe, she was just trying to get under your skin. She probably suspected we’re dating by the way you were glaring. Which is true.” Dick seemed to calm down when you used his name, his real name. He frowned, realizing he had indeed lose his cool. He was trained to not show much emotions, but he couldn’t help just when it was about his boyfriend. “I should’ve controlled my emotions…” Y/N hummed at what dick was saying. “But you couldn’t, i don’t blame you honey. I would’ve done the same if a boy or girl even dared touched you.” Y/N chuckled, it made dick chuckle as well.
“But even if that reporter chick submits a paper about us dating. It doesn’t mean the world is gonna stop dick. It’s gonna keep going, just like our love. So don’t think much about it, okay?” Dick smiled looking up at you. “You’re so cheesy. But okay.” The super smiled at his boyfriend.
“So Robin, you’re calm now? Not gonna use the hammer of unisex on me or whatever it’s called?” Robin laughed, but kept a smug look. “Only if superboy just flies away at the right time and not stay behind for a reporter to try at him.” Y/N smiled. “On it.”
“But I can’t help but say….you’re so cute when you’re jealous babe.” Y/N says kissing Robin’s head. Robin’s glaring pout face falter with a small frown and a flustered face. “Stopp..” Robin whines trying to break out of the hold of the kryptonian. Y/N only bellowed a laugh as he flys away to the tower holding his delicate bird.
Tumblr media
272 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Chapter 12: Skip The Bagel Next Time
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV
Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy
Word Count: 11.7K (I know it's a big boi, but so much happens)
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it) and because there is an ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT that the reader stops. Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Dark Themes, Dark Thoughts,  Kidnapping, Torture, Blood, GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF DEATH, DEATH, BLOOD, GUTS, Threatening, Denial, A whole lot of denial,  Manipulation, Self deprecating thoughts, Talks about weed, Super Manipulative Creepy Trash Man, Sexist Comments, Kinda awkward situation, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
A/N: I'm serious y'all this one is BLOODY, the show is too, but really this one has got A LOT. There is an attempted SEXUAL ASSAULT and there are SEVERAL graphic deaths. If you do not like that or if that will hurt you, please don't read this. I love you all and I don't want anyone to be hurt from this.
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Tumblr media
READER POV
The cold was oppressive, seeping through flesh and bone and scratching along your soul. A chill travelled along the bare plains of your face and fingertips to freeze whatever it could, clawing at your clothes to find the skin hidden beneath. You'd never known cold like this, even in the winters when the snow drifted and swirled overhead, glinting in the streetlights as you shuffled home after a long day you were able to keep it at bay, but now there was little you could do to protect yourself.
For you, cold was deadly, just like the early frost that crept along greening leaves in winter, you too felt the effects of the temperature when it dropped.
You thrived in the sunshine and absorbed the rays like a tree raising it's arms to worship the rising sun, but in the cold you were hollow, like the weathered trunk of an old oak long lost to frost and snow.
The dark and cold surrounded you in a shroud of chill and ice, making you feel tired and alone. And this time you didn’t know how much longer you could go on before you succumbed to the frigid embrace.
You didn't know how many days had passed since Darren left you with Elijah, there weren't any windows in the freezer and no way to tell the passing of time.
That's what you decided to call it.
There was no light in it, but you'd walked the perimeter on shaky legs feeling along the ice covered walls while trying to avoid the pieces of meat hanging from hooks above you.
At least, you hoped it was meat. There was something else that seemed too dark to consider, but after being in here as long as you had, your mind began to inch along the edge of the cliff that beckoned you to leap into the churning water below.
No one had come since you woke up in the darkness and you’d given up counting seconds.
No Elijah, no Darren, no team, and no Ben.
 hat last one you weren't sure why you added it to the list or why you separated it from thoughts of your team, but you were starting to believe what Elijah said to you in his office, that Ben hated you and now he wasn't going to come help you.
He said he didn’t care, of course he's not going to come.
The thought wasn't unfamiliar, but it was just as unwelcome. You wanted to believe that your team would come for you or at least Annie. She was your best friend and you knew that she would figure out something was up, but you were worried that Darren had figured out how to keep everyone off his trail. He did have your phone and he was your brother which meant he knew most of what to say if someone texted you. But you tried to remain optimistic that Annie would be able to smell the imposter.
You’d tried talking and shouting at the frozen walls for someone to hear you, screamed yourself hoarse, but there was no one to answer.  There's a dull throb in your limbs that won't leave and a hollow in the pit of your stomach. No one had brought food or water, and you'd taken to relieving yourself in the opposite side of the cell.
I guess that's what this is. Elijah put me a cell.
You couldn't hear anything outside, no rumble of the expressway, no splash of water against the rocks, no honking of traffic, and no low murmur of people speaking outside.
It was just you alone in the darkness waiting for whatever came next.
The shudder that works it's way down your spine has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with Elijah. What he said to you in his office worried you. You weren't one to give in, but the superhuman strength he possessed in was troubling you. And without plants nearby you weren't sure you could fight off someone who was so much stronger.
Not to mention you could feel the weakness of your body beginning to close in on you. Being in the cold was quickly becoming unbearable and you weren't sure how much longer you could take this before it caused permanent damage.
You would cry again if you had anything left. You couldn't believe that Darren would do something like this, that he would allow Elijah to take you and that your brother was so desperate to pay off a debt that he used you as a bargaining chip. You wondered if Darren knew what Elijah would do to you or if he didn't care as long as it settled his debt.
After all these years of me paying off his debts, he probably thought that I'd be happy to do something like this. I've been giving up parts of my life so he could go off and live his. I never said no. I never turned my back on my brother and look where it got me.
You'd thought that you were showing your brother how much you loved him by bailing him out as many times as you did, but now you felt stupid and used. You now saw that your brother didn't care about you, the only thing he cared about was how willing you were to give him money and support him for nothing in return.
You huddle further into a ball in the corner of the room, your back pressed against the frozen wall trying to reach out for some kind of plant energy, but there isn't anything. There wasn't a single seed, vegetable, or piece of plant in the freezer or anywhere nearby and it made all of this worse. It made you feel unsettled being away from them and you're reminded of the cruise Annie and you spent together where you were isolated from land in the middle of the ocean and couldn't leave the cabin.
You couldn’t even feel the sickness of the marijuana plants anymore. That was the only welcome part of all of this, that you couldn't feel them anymore, not when it made you dizzy to be that close to them.
Then again, I'll take what I can get. If I get out of this I'm going to start carrying seeds in my pockets everywhere.
You press your lips together, feeling the chapped flesh that was dry and flaking flushed red. Your cheeks and the skin of your face were the same way. You felt tired and you knew it was your body telling you to shut down, slowing your heart rate to save your life, but you fought it.
At first you'd tried to keep moving around the cell, rubbing your left arm up and down your right to keep warm the best you could, while avoiding the large pieces of meat hanging from the hooks above, and distracting yourself with how bad it smelled instead of the cold. But you gave up walking around and decided to conserve as little heat you had left by crouching down and shivering in the corner. Your could feel your mind going a little bit cloudy, as if you couldn't focus on anything. You hadn't slept and you weren't sure if that was why you were confused or if it was your body beginning to shut down.
It scared you to think that if you fell asleep, you wouldn’t wake up again.
Of all the things that Darren had done this was the biggest betrayal, that much was obvious. Telling Elijah that you were a supe who could control plants was one thing, but telling Elijah that you don't do well in the cold was unforgivable, especially because Darren knew how dangerous it was for you to be in cold for a prolonged time.
I wonder if he ever cared for me, or if this has all just been a game to him from the beginning since our parents died.
You had thought that you were doing what your parents would have wanted you to do in supporting your brother, thought that you were showing him the love they would have given him, but now you wished that you'd turned your back on him years ago. 
You move slightly, but wince with the pain that comes streaking down your right arm. It was a bad break and you knew that it probably needed to be set, because it had swollen up beneath your sleeve and was now an ugly purple color in certain places. You couldn't straighten it at all without screaming so now you kept it contracted and against your chest. You would have made a make-shift sling for it, if you didn’t want to keep as much skin covered from the cold.
Maybe the cold is helping it.
You think to yourself gently probing along your right sleeve, but wince when you get to your forearm and lean your head back against the wall while gritting your teeth together to keep from screaming. You had left your hair down as a way of protecting your ears and the skin of your neck, but now the strands were dry and brittle. You worried that they would snap off at any second.
Fuck, Ben where are you?
The thought was surprising. You hadn’t meant to think of him again, hadn’t meant for your mind to drift to him, but it did. You’d be lying if you didn’t imagine Ben barging in and saving your life. When you imagined your team doing a big rescue, Ben was always leading it with Annie close behind him.
You would kill for a hug from him right now, he was always so inhumanly warm and it was such a comfort. The memory of him laying on top of you comes back and you imagine it, feeling the weight of his body, feeling the warmth that curled through him and into you, but then you remember what you yelled at him.
Are those going to be the last things I say to him? All those terrible things about his team and his son?
You frown at the thought. You didn’t want it to be. Now you were more upset that you hadn't listened to him about Darren, that you hadn't seen the things that Ben had. If he were here you might even let him say "I told you so." 
Maybe, and only once.
You wondered if this was how Ben felt when he was trapped in Russia for forty years, if every day he waited for someone to come get him who never would. If every day he remained hopeful that Countess would break down the door and save him. It was cruel of her to leave him there with that hope and you could never imagine doing that to him. You could imagine how alone he must have felt, how small and helpless he did, and how much it probably broke him when he figured out that she wasn’t coming for him.
He's not going to come save me. You think to yourself remembering what he yelled to Darren before he slammed the bathroom door. He doesn’t care about me. Everyone else will come, but he won't. 
The thought made it feel like you were going to cry. Then again you kept having that feeling come surging up, but it never brought any tears. The only way you hadn't dehydrated was that you kept having to break some of the ice off the wall and sucked on it, trying not to ignore how much colder it made you.
But if he didn't care, then why did Ben try to warn me about Darren?
It's not the first time you’d thought that. It was the truth. You didn’t understand why Ben was acting like he cared and yet he said those things to your brother, why Ben shouted things just as bad at you that you'd shouted at him.
He called me stupid. He insulted me. He's just always so damn stubborn and rude and annoying and-
You sigh and press your head into your knees. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing does.
The door handle jingles as if someone is trying to open it and the lights of the freezer flare to life, temporarily blinding you. You blink to clear your vision, squinting at the two large men dressed all in black who enter. One of which you identify as Joe, the man who had been outside at the gate, the other you have no idea who he is, but suspect that he's probably another part of Elijah's security team.
Standing seems like too much effort, so all you do is glare at them from your seated position.
"Come here often?" You cough out a laugh, your voice more of a rasp.
Neither of them laugh.
Annie would have laughed. Maybe Ben.
Joe grabs you by your left arm and hauls you up off of the ground, the motion of your body bending feeling like each joint is creaking and cracking, breaking through ice as they move.
He practically drags you from the room and you don't fight him. If anything you understand that you’re going to need to conserve your strength for wherever it is that you're going.
Your legs don't really work as he hauls you down the hallway, your feet stumble and try to catch against the solid ground, but not quite correctly.
You can feel your skin flaking away under your blouse where Joe is holding you by the arm, the other man following silently behind with his hand in his jacket as if prepared to pull out a gun. You figure that Elijah sent two men as a precaution if you had found some kind of plant in the freezer.
Maybe I should be flattered that he's not underestimating me. You frown. Yeah, no not gonna do that, the asshole locked me in a freezer.
The warm air in the hallway is a welcome change from the freezer, but it almost hurts for your body to be abruptly put in a place so different than the place you'd been inhabiting for who knows how long.
Joe shoves your body forward into a door in front of you and as you move towards it, the door opens and you fall onto the floor directly onto your bad arm.
This time you do scream when the white hot stab of pain shoots through your right arm as it makes contact with the floor. And Joe laughs.
"For a supe you're pretty wimpy." He chortles to himself, yanking you up from the ground again by your left arm. "Then again what a waste of a power, making the flowers grow."
Your teeth grind down. "Keep talking and I'll shove some of those pretty flowers up where the sun don't shine."
"I don't think you're in the position to make threats." Joe smirks. He shoves you deeper into the room and your body stumbles back, but you catch yourself on a plush highbacked navy armchair.
"Oh really? How do you know this hasn't been my plan all along? To get you and tweedle dum over there alone." You clear your throat glancing around the room for something you can use as a weapon.
The room is smaller than the office was, more intimate. With two navy high backed arm chairs, a leather couch that looks more decorative than comfortable and a fireplace where a fire roars, sending a wave of heat through the back of your shirt.
You scramble forward to try and melt your frozen fingertips, but keep the two men in your line of sight.
"I'd be nicer if I were you sweets. When the boss is done with you and he gives you to me, maybe I'll be a little gentler than he is." Joe's eyes trace down your body, making revulsion rise in the back of your throat like bile.
You were already feeling a little better, but you still couldn’t use your right arm and there were no plants that you could draw from. The good news was that these two men weren't supes, which meant that you might be able to take them with just your strength, but your arm was the problem.
"Joe." Elijah sighs as he enters the room behind the two men. "Are you being rude to our guest?"
"Just telling her how it is boss."
"Hmm." Elijah looks you up an down with a sad smile. "You look tired honey. You didn't find your vacation relaxing?"
"Oh it was paradise darling." You seethe, standing up from the floor. You refuse to back down from him.
If he's gonna do something he might as well do it. I'm sick of this tough guy mafia bullshit.
You could sense what was coming, it thrummed through your veins, and sent electrical impulses over every synapse of your body as you prepared for the coming fight. The fog was still hovering in your mind, but the adrenaline beat it back with a stick.
"Usually the cooler makes people more docile. I see it's made you more heated." He looks pleased, and makes a motion with his hand to Joe and the other man, who leave as soon as they see it. "Good. It’s always more fun that way anyway."
The energy in the room shifts for a moment as Elijah approaches you before he runs his large hand over the back of the high backed chair drawing your eye to the thick steel ring on his right fourth finger. It catches in the light of the fire, but you longer feel the warmth of the blaze. It’s worse now that it's the two of you alone, not to mention with Elijah being a supe and no plant in sight, your odds of getting out of this went from 50/50 to 40/60.
Fuck.
You fight the shudder that threatens to shake through you when you see the glint in Elijah's eye, hoping and praying that you have enough energy to take him down. Butcher had made you spar with him every chance you got so it wasn't that you weren't trained, it was that you could feel what little energy you had left draining from your body.
But that didn't mean you weren't going to back down.
"I'd be happy to show you just how wonderful it is to be locked in a freezer with no light. Just say the word." You take another step back eyes searching the room for something to use as a weapon.
"Tempting." His head tilts to the side. "But I can think of more fun things the two of us could do."
"Chess?" You gesture to the board on the coffee table in front of the couch.
"You could call it that." His smile turns more into a smirk.
Elijah flashes forward so fast your didn't see him move, knocking you backward onto the uncomfortable couch. One of his hands is fastened to your throat, the other pins your good arm above you head as his entire weight knocks the wind out of you. Nothing about his weight is comforting or is anything like how Ben laid on you the other night. It's oppressive and heavy, and the thick cloud of his cologne stings your nostrils as you gasp for breath. Everything in your body screams WRONG as you feel his hand squeeze down on your throat so tight you’re sure that it's leaving a mark.
His lips bite against yours, teeth cutting through the thinly chapped and flaky skin. You scream into his mouth and bite down hard until you taste blood wiggling beneath his weight. Elijah roars, the sound of his crescendo vibrating through your body and he backhands you so savagely you see stars.
"You'll pay for that." His eyes are wide and dark like two soulless pits that wish to drag you under and his teeth are bared in a snarl more animal than human. It reminds you of a rabid dog that rips and tears in a savage rage.
Your eyes drop to his mouth.
Is that what I think it is?
The pull is there, small, just barely a throb, but it's there, because between Elijah's two front teeth is your salvation.
"You really should floss more." You spit into his face, feeling your eyes shift to green focusing on the poppy seed caught beneath his gums. You assume he ate a bagel earlier and forgot all about it, but you don't give yourself time to speculate on exactly why it's there, only that it's your chance.
"What are you-"
Elijah doesn't finish his sentence, instead he gags as the stalks and roots begin to pour from his mouth. Poppies bloom from the outstretched stems that hang daintily past his full lips. He coughs and stumbles back from you, blood dripping around the flowers, as the roots begin to thread themselves into the soft skin on the inside of his mouth and twist and tangle down his throat.
Elijah's screams are muffled into the buds and leaves that sprout from his open mouth, eyes wide and staring at you with a mixture of horror and pure hatred. The vessels in his face burst until the blood flows from his eyes and skin freely and the roots breach through bone, vein, and flesh as if searching for earth outside of his body. The plants suck every nutrient they can from what you've given them, breaking Elijah's body down into what they can and cannot use.
The flowers do not hear his screams, the petals do not show remorse and the gentle bend of each bud before it blooms is not sinister, but beneath your hands they are deadly.
Turning someone into a tree you'd never done, sure you'd threatened it, but you’d never done it. You'd locked Newton your ex-boyfriend into a tree years ago, but that wasn't a transformation or a death, that involved the tree cocooning him inside, but it was nothing like this. You stand from the couch watching Elijah writhe in pain and confusion, trying to stop the plants that continue to feast on him.
His hands grasp at his face, ripping away the flowers that sprout from his lips, but he tears away pieces of flesh loosened by the roots away from his skull until chunks of muscle and tissue are mushed into the rug at his feet. There's a terrible snapping sound as the roots continue to expand outward and the flowers stems and stalks continue to unfurl beneath his skin, shattering through bone. Elijah's hands scramble down his chest, tearing away his shirt, the scream in his lungs lost to the crimson blooms that block air from coming in to his chest. He claws at his skin, falling to his knees, the inky black of the tattoos that cover his chest vanishing beneath the roots and stalks the peel away from his flesh and burst from his ribcage, the poppies the final bouquet laid on the casket.
And as you stand there, your un-ruined arm outstretched towards him, feeling the healing ebb and flow of energy from the poppies strengthening you momentarily, you have no remorse. Elijah Black is the first man you've ever essentially killed outright with your powers and yet you feel nothing. The men on the street the night that Ben saved you would have done the same thing to you, you'd spared their lives, but this time you didn't spare his.
He makes one more attempt to scream, the blood from his chest spurting upwards in an arch and splashing against your body, but then he falls silent. The poppies spreading along the plush rug at your feet covering his body, burying it beneath their beautiful petals, smiling at you.
He deserved this.
The little voice at the back of your mind whispers and the feeling of him on top of you comes roaring back, sending revulsion through your body. You didn’t want to think about what almost happened, what would have happened if he hadn't eaten the bagel.
You stoop down to pick one of the flowers before you lay it against your right wrist and manipulate the vines and roots to form a make-shift sling for your broken arm. The exhaustion was back, tugging at your body, but this time you ignore it, knowing that you had a long way to go before you earned your freedom.
At least now my arm is stabilized. You think to yourself. How the hell am I going to get out of here?
"Hey boss are you done yet-" Joe says as he enters the room, but he stops mid-sentence. His eyes trace your body again, but not in the lewd way he'd done earlier, instead you see horror flash in his gaze when he sees the blood flecked across your cheeks and the bits of flesh and muscle that sit in clumps, smashed into the plush rug at your feet.
You feel your eyes shift to green once more, the poppies that cover Elijah's body begin to stir as if an unnatural wind has begun to wisp into the room. "You should have been more worried about getting on my good side Joe, because the flowers might be pretty, but you won't enjoy them as much as they'll enjoy you."
He tries to draw his gun, but it's too late. They'll be nothing left of him or anyone who stands in your way.
Tumblr media
Soldier Boy POV
Blood stained Ben's ungloved hands, soaked into his supe suit, and splashed across his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He would bathe in it every day until he found you if that's what it took.
He didn't understand why he felt this way, felt unsure and antsy at the thought of you being trapped somewhere, but he did, and it was almost too much to bear. With each passing hour on the long drive from Boston to New York, Ben could feel himself slipping further and further into a feeling that he couldn't place, a feeling that he'd never felt before in his entire life. His hands had curled into fists where they rested on his thighs with each mile that the car inched closer to you and to whoever the fuck had hurt you. He hadn’t spoken since he threatened Butcher at the motel, well, except for the occasional "Can you drive any fucking faster?" he shouted at Butcher every few minutes.
Even Annie seemed unnaturally quiet where she sat beside Ben in the backseat, her hand clasped tightly in Hughie's. She had been upset since she figured out what Darren had done and Hughie was trying to comfort her. Hughie had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and was whispering gentle things into her ear while she leaned into his chest and hugged him.
It annoyed Ben.
In the past Ben would have mocked a man for doing that, would have made an offhand comment about the man being pussy whipped, but as Ben sat there and listened to Hughie try his best to bring Annie some peace, Ben couldn’t help but remember the night you had a nightmare.
The scream you'd let loose was what jolted him into consciousness. He'd never heard you scream like that before. In that moment he hadn't cared about what you'd said about him not going in your bedroom, all he knew was that he had to be in there and he had to make sure you were okay. When he'd found you sitting on your bed crying and gasping for breath he hadn't wanted to leave you, for the first time in his life Ben had wanted to do exactly what Hughie was doing for Annie. Ben didn't know the first thing about how to do that, but he'd wanted to sit there with you until you calmed down.
He'd never done that for anyone before. Countess had been distressed once because she'd lost an earring her mother gave her, but Ben had just told her to "get the fuck over it."
You were different and as much as Ben hated to admit it to himself, he was starting to realize that as well. He just didn't know why.
When Butcher finally crashed his car through the front gate that surrounded the warehouse Ben jumped from it while it was still in motion, leaving the rest of them to squawk and squabble over a plan like a bunch of fucking chickens.
Ben had a plan, save you. He didn't need to hear Butcher come up with a plan of action when Ben was a man of action.
"Where is she?" Ben snarls to the man he's pinned to the wall of the cool concrete hallway, his voice shaking the foundations of the building.
The dim lightbulbs that line the hallway flicker and flash a yellowed light that curves cruelly over the sharp edges of Ben's face, but he does not back down from the man he has pushed against the wall. The bodies of the other men who stood in Ben's way lay in a trail of blood and bone behind, and the man in his arms would join the fray for wasting his time.
"Go to hell." The man spits in Ben's face.
"You'll go first." Ben says in a murderous growl as he pulls apart the body easily as if the man is made of tissue paper, the sound of the man's screams no more than a memory as they ring down the desolate hallways.
Ben trudges on through the dim light with the sticky smell of blood following behind him. He was hoping that he wasn't too late. Sometimes he forgot how fragile other people were, how easy it was for an accident to occur and for someone like you to get hurt or killed, but Ben didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to consider that possibility.
It's only been 4 days. Ben's jaw clenches together. It would have been no days if she had just fucking listened to me!
Ben frowns. Or it would have been no days if I had followed her.
Ben didn't know why he felt guilty, just that he didn't like it. A part of him kept flashing back to the years he spent in Russia, when he hoped that Countess would come get him, when he thought she loved him as much as he loved her, and when in reality it was her that put him there.
After that happened Ben had decided that it was stupid and unmanly to care about anyone, to love anyone, because it only fucked everything up. But Ben didn't want you to go through what he had. You were so different than he was, softer, kind, and way too trusting. Sometimes he didn’t like that you were doing this kind of work. It didn’t seem like you. When he saw you in the plant shop working it was different, you seemed to be in you element.
But he didn't want you to think that no one was coming to save you, because he was and like hell he was going to let anyone stand in his way.
This is taking too long.
The hallways were twisting and turning and Ben hadn’t seen another soul in at least two minutes. He listens with his hearing hoping to hear you talking or someone talking about you, but he doesn’t all he hears is a heart beat. It's faint, but it's there. The room where it comes from is torn to bits, chairs are laying on their sides stuffing falling out onto the blood stained carpet and covered in a field of red poppies, the smell of blood is thick in the air, and the bodies that lay on the ground are cleaved open with the plants tangling in the organs within, spilling out onto the floor.
Truthfully, Ben hadn't thought that your powers could look like this. Sure, you would make an offhand comment about turning him into a tree or shoving a watermelon up his ass, but he didn’t actually think that you would ever do it. Again, Ben didn’t see this side of you very often. He did piss you off and annoy you, but Ben didn’t actually think you’d ever try to attack him.
Not to mention that Ben thought that being able to make flowers grow seemed like a woman's power, and truthfully he liked watching you walk to work and place your hand on a bouquet or a small cluster of flowering plants to make them perk up, or watch you move around the apartment and see how the plants seemed to turn towards you, but this was surprising. He didn’t think that you could do something like that to someone's body and he wasn't disgusted, in fact he was a little impressed.
Ben raises his gaze from the bodies to see you.
You're on the ground, curled into a ball to protect your right arm that's also covered in poppies, but Ben can tell that it's broken, by how swollen it is.
Your breath is coming in shallow gasps and you heart beats faintly. You're covered in so much blood that Ben is worried that he's too late.
"Petals?" Ben drops to his knees beside where you lay, gingerly picking you up off the ground so that your left arm is resting against his chest. "Petals?" Ben says again, his heart seizing in his chest, throat thick. His hand gently pushes back the hair that sticks to your bloodied cheeks as he checks you over for wounds. Ben feels his jaw tighten when he see the bruising handprint around your throat, the blaze of heat from his anger coming back when he realized that someone had touched you.
"Come on Petals wake up." Ben murmurs, as he brushes your hair back. The strands are dry and brittle against his fingertips. "Come on sweetheart, say something annoying."
"Ben?" He hears you murmur, it’s more of a shallow breath than his name, but it’s something.
Ben exhales the breath he didn’t know that he was holding. "Yeah it's me."
"You came." You whisper and turn your head into his chest, weakly pressing your fingertips over his heart the motion making something stutter inside of him.
Your skin is flushed, veins shimmering beneath, body colder than Ben has ever felt it and he can see the flecks of skin that flake from your lips. Ben’s gaze falls on the mark over your right cheekbone that has already begun to bruise and drop back down to the handprint around your throat. Ben feels the tendrils of his rage beginning to spill over into the cavity in his chest screaming for blood. Ben's eyes flick to the bodies in the room momentarily hoping that they suffered for what they did to you and regrets not getting here sooner to make them suffer for touching you.
"Of course I came Petals." Ben replies his rough hand gently tracing along your cheek. "Did you think I was gonna leave you behind?"
"Thought you were mad." You breathe not opening your eyes. "I'm sorry for-" Your voice breaks as if it’s too much effort to finish the sentence, but he understands what you're about to say.
The feeling in Ben’s chest is not unfamiliar. It was the one he’d felt when he was in Russia every day, the loneliness that drove him mad.
Ben wonders if that's all you’d thought of the past four days. If you really believed that he wasn't going to come save you because you'd yelled at him and said what you did.
What I said wasn't better.
He remembered shouting at Darren that he didn’t care and he felt a twinge deep down when he realized that you must have been thinking that he was going to leave you in all this shit because of it.
"You can make it up to me later sweetheart." Ben stands with you close to his chest, but accidentally jostles your broken arm.
You whimper in pain and Ben freezes, adjusting his left arm under your knees and his right around your waist to secure you to his chest. "Shh it’s okay. I'm going to get you out of here." He reassures and takes a moment to press a kiss to the top of your head at your hairline where your head is turned into him. Ben clenches his jaw together and swallows. He hadn't meant to do that and didn't know why he did, just that he didn’t have the ability to touch your face with his hand and it seemed like the next best thing.
His mind flashes back to Hughie in the car with Annie, the things that Hughie said to her the way Hughie held her close and kissed her head to make sure she knew he was there.
"Okay." You breathe, cuddling further into his chest and pressing your face into his collar bone with a soft sigh as if you don’t know what he did.
Ben was glad, because the last thing he wanted was for you to accuse him of coping a feel when you weren't up to snuff.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Tumblr media
Reader POV
A rhythmic beeping noise lulls you from sleep as you sigh softly, but you don't open your eyes. It feels like you’re swimming through tar, as if your limbs are being bound to the soft bed beneath you with cement. Everything hurts and yet you're here and you're alive.
Well, I think I’m alive.
You blink your eyes open, squinting in the oppressive unbroken sunlight that bathes the entire room in a brilliant glow from the un-curtained windows to the left of the bed you're laying in. The room is white, a blank slate,  and unfamiliar. There’s teal couch underneath the large left window and a small cabinet pressed into the corner between the couch and the opposite wall, a tv mounted on the wall across from the bed and a large pale blue curtain hanging to the right of your bed behind a collection of monitors that beep and squabble with one another. The room would be unremarkable if not for the plants.
There are buckets of monstera that unfurl leaves as big as your face jammed into the corners of the room and tangles of jasmine hanging from the top of the cabinet. Cacti line the windowsill absorbing the healing light from the sun, while a cart of honeysuckle, lavender, rose, and more flowering plants than you can name sits at the end of your hospital bed. The smell of gardenia is strong, floating lightly through the air to kiss you on the tip of your nose and you look to your left at the small bedside table to notice the gardenia plant you had on your bedside table back at you apartment blossoming in the warmth of the room.
Bouquets of flowers are shoved onto all other possible surfaces, some big some small, but all of them colorful and beautiful to look at. The healing energy of the plants is everywhere, absorbing into your body and strengthening you, the sweet smells of the flowers masking the stale clean smell of the hospital, and making you feel at home for the first time since you left your apartment with Darren.
Your eyes shift to the teal couch under the window and see that it's not empty, Ben is laying there on his back, his arms crossed over his dark t-shirt, sound asleep. His soft snores a comfort over the sounds of the beeping monitors so close to your bed.
The memories of what happened however long ago come back muffled and slurred through the haze of the drugs the doctors have given you, but you remember the final ones you had before you fell into the abyss.
You remember feeling Ben pick you up and hold you close to him, begging you to answer him, while the warmth of his body was like a soothing soak in a hot bath after a cold day. All you could do was cling to him and try to get as close as you could to absorb some of the heat. You didn’t believe that he would come for you and he did.
Tears glaze your eyes while you watch him sleep, all the sharp edges of his face smoothed in his slumber, all the frown lines you knew all too well no longer there while he slept. He looked different like this, peaceful.
You could feel your heart warming to think that Ben actually did care about you and that was why he came to get you.
"You’re awake." A familiar voice says.
Diana Moore, your grandmother, looks cheerfully at you from the teal rocking chair to the right of the bed, working on a purple knit blanket in her lap.
"Gran?" You clear your throat as you adjust yourself to sit up. "What are you doing here?"
She stands and nears the bed, tucking the granny square blanket she must have covered you with, further under you as she does. "Annie called and said you were hurt in some sort of accident." Your grandmother frowns. "And when I got here she told me what happened."
"Everything?" You say with a grimace.
"Most of it." Her frown deepens around the edges of her mouth. "But it was easy to fill in when she mentioned Darren."
Your grandmother knew everything about your life, there were no secrets between the two of you, and as much as she discouraged you working with Butcher, she pretended that she didn't care. Despite you being a supe, she always seemed to want to keep you away from the hero lifestyle. That was always odd to you, especially when you saw how proud Annie’s mother was of her abilities. Your grandmother although supportive of your abilities, never wanted you to become a hero. Whenever you’d ask her why she’d always say that “the grass looks greener on the other side.” It wasn’t an answer, but you never pushed her for one.
"I'm-"
"What your brother did is not your fault, and if the next words out of your mouth are an apology I will pack up everything you own and make you move back home." She raises an eyebrow.
It was an empty threat, you loved being in Illinois with her and you both knew it, but you let it slide.
Your grandmother looks the same way she did as when you first went to live with her when you were twelve. Not to mention for someone who was just over eighty years old, she looked pretty good. Whenever someone mentioned that to her she’d only say that “time had been good to her.”
Her gray hair is wavy and pinned back away from her face in an elegant twist that makes her look classic and poised. Her clothes are stylish, clean blue-jeans with a floral blouse that is covered by a thin cream colored sweater she knitted herself and a pair of black flats.
She was the reason you started knitting and crocheting. The love she instilled into each handmade item she delivered to her neighbors, made you love your grandmother's gentle spirit all the more. She'd always been like that, a shoulder to cry on, the person who always baked and filled the house with warmth, the person who took care of her neighbors when they were ill and made sure that they were well fed, and all the people back home loved her almost as much as you did.
She became the mother you’d lost and you didn’t realize how much you’d missed her until this exact moment.
Tears burn against your eyes as the events of the past few days surge up in a lump at the back of your throat. The memories of Elijah said and did, the freezer, the deaths, and the betrayal from your brother all too much to bear.
"Oh sweetie." Your grandmother whispers gently sitting on the edge of the bed and lets you hug her. You cry into her shoulder, holding her tight, the smell of her perfume familiar. "It's okay." She rubs your back. "Let it all out."
You do. It's the hardest you'd cried in weeks, but she sits there with you and continues to hold you close to her the way she'd done since you were twelve.
"Better?" She cups your cheek, her blue eyes tracing your face. They were the same as your father's and it made you miss him more.
"Yeah." You sniffle.
"Good. I brought you some fudge."
"What?"
"And some meat-pies and I stopped by your apartment and put a few frozen lassagna's in there for later. You look thin. Have you been eating?"
"Yes I have." You roll your eyes, but smile, because even when you thought you were all grown up she was trying to take care of you.
"Hmm." She presses her lips into a tight line looking you up and down.
"Fine, sometimes I skip a meal." You admit.
"You shouldn't. Especially with how often you use your powers." She squeezes your left hand because your right one was now in a bright green colored cast.
You wonder if they chose that color randomly or if Annie told them to pick that.
"I know Gran. Where's Annie?" You ask. It kind of hurt that she wasn't here when you woke up, but you couldn't fight the happy feeling knowing that Ben was here. That one also hurt a little bit, especially when it filled you with the hope that Ben wanted to have a relationship when you knew he didn't.
"She just went to get some dinner with Hughie. He's a nice boy, good manners. A lot like your boyfriend." She gestures over to the couch where Ben is snoring.
Ben having good manners? She's kidding right?
"He's not my boyfriend-"
"No?" Your grandmother gives you a knowing look. "He sure seems like it."
"He's my roommate. And well-" You bite the inside of your cheek feeling your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment. "I think we're friends."
I mean he carried me out of the warehouse that's gotta be a friend thing right?
"He hasn’t left that couch since I got here. Not to mention he keeps harassing the doctor whenever he comes in, keeps asking him when you're going to wake up. Made one of the nurses cry-“
"He what?"
"You didn't tell me you knew Soldier Boy."
You pause looking up at your grandmother. "What?"
"He's Soldier Boy." She says it matter of fact.
"How did you-"
"He looks just like him." Your grandmother examines Ben's sleeping face again. "Plus I met him a few times before, but that was a long time ago."
Your mouth drops open. "You met Soldier Boy. When?"
"Story for another time dear."
"Oh please tell me that you didn��t go out with him." Sometimes you forgot how old Ben was and the thought that he and your grandmother had a thing made you feel nauseous.
I swear if Ben and my grandmother fucked or made out I am going to go crazy and I'm taking him down with me.
"No of course not." Her cheeks flush. "I was dating your grandfather when we met."
"Oh."
I guess that's a little better, but still weird.
"But he was certainly trying his best." She snorts.
"Please no more." You cringe back from her trying not to imagine Ben hitting on your grandmother.
"I'm just teasing sweetie." She kisses you on the forehead with a smile. "Not really."
"Oh my sweet goodness, please do not tell me anything else." You groan blocking out the mental images of Ben with your grandmother.
She sits back down in her chair with her knitting smiling to herself, the subtle scrape of the needles together reminded you of the quiet nights the two of you spent back home sitting in the living room and watching TV.
Guess I won't be able to crochet for a while with this thing. You frown at the cast on your right arm more disappointed at the prospect of not being able to crochet than what had happened to you.
"He was with Crimson Countess anyway." Your grandmother rolls her eyes when she says her name.
"Wait a minute, you knew Ben when he was with Countess?"
How in the fuck did I not know this? Why didn’t she tell me that she knew famous supes? Why did she know them?
She nods not looking up from the purple mass in her lap. "She was a real piece of work, very callous, and uncaring whenever the cameras weren't flashing." You watch her eyes slide to where Ben is laying. "I always hated the way she seemed to treat him. She was manipulative, very good at getting whatever she wanted. She was possessive when it came to Ben, fiercely jealous of anyone who got near him. Weird given the relationship they had" The thought makes her frown and for a moment you see something slide across your grandmother's face that was unlike the woman who'd raised you.
"But why were you around them in the first place?" You ask her.
Your grandmother had never said that she was around supes, never said that she was a part of any of that. All you knew was that she met your grandfather who was a retired veteran turned doctor and settled down in Illinois so he could open a private practice, but to know that she knew Ben was making your head spin.
"Another time. You need rest."
"But-"
"Please sweetie. I don't want to talk about the past right now. Not when you need to sleep."
“But-“
She looks up at you with the same matronly look she always had when she told you to go to bed and you were being unruly.
“Okay.”
The doctor walks into the room, his smile brightening when he notices that you're awake. "Hello, I'm Dr. Martinez. How are you feeling today?"
"Good I guess." Your eyes were still focused on your grandmother who has begun to knit innocently as if the last few things that she'd mentioned hadn't happened.
"Well it’s reassuring that you're awake." His eyes skate to where Ben is sleeping and you see just a glimmer of fear behind them. "We were all eagerly hoping that you would wake up soon-"
Did he threaten the doctor with bodily harm? Because that feels very Ben-like.
"How long have I been asleep?" You ask taking a sip from the cup of ice water on your tray.
"Three days."
"Three what-" You shriek, spewing water all over the bed.
Ben jolts upwards from sleep to his feet, looking around the room with narrowed eyes like he believes that someone is in the room about to attack you.
"Ben it's okay." You say with a cough to clear the water that came out your nose. Ben's gaze flicks to where you're laying in the bed.
You weren't prepared to see the tension leave his shoulders and to see relief flash through his eyes, before they harden once more to his usual expression.
Was he worried about me? I mean my grandmother said that he hasn't left the couch and that he's been harassing the doctors…
"Yes." Dr. Martinez looks at where Ben is now standing over your bed, but Ben hasn't looked away from you. In fact you see his eyes shift over your face, down to your throat, then to the cast on your right arm and see his frown grow by the minute.
"Sorry I wasn't ready for that." You clear your throat with a forced smile.
"It's alright. But the good news is you're awake-"
"No shit sherlock." Ben snarks. "Did your big fancy degree tell you that?"
“Sir-“ Dr. Martinez starts, but Ben interrupts him.
“Because-“ Ben begins to say something else but you reach out and touch his arm with your left hand before you can stop yourself. His gaze focuses back on you.
“Ben, it’s okay. I’m okay. Let him talk.” You squeeze his warm forearm to reassure him.
His green eyes flick back to your face, something flashing through his eyes that looks very different than the man you usually saw. He doesn't apologize, but he nods his head in the direction of the doctor to let him know that he could continue. Ben also doesn't move your hand from his forearm, in fact, he steps a little closer to you.
You miss the smile your grandmother hides behind her hand when she sees Ben’s reaction.
"As I said you're awake and it looks like you're doing much better now that we've given you fluids. You were dehydrated when you came in and had a touch of hyperthermia which is unusual given how warm it's been lately." Dr. Martinez gestures to the sunny day outside. "Your right arm is broken, but we set it and it should be about 6 weeks until you're fully healed. As for the black eye and the-" The doctor clears his throat, eyes looking to Ben for a moment. "Marks around your neck, those should be gone within a few weeks or so."
Does he think Ben did this to me?
The thought makes you angry. As mad as Ben had gotten at you in the past, you didn’t believe that he would ever hurt you. Sure he'd hurt you the first day you'd met, but you weren't afraid of him, you couldn’t be. Even when his temper flared you didn't fear that he would hurt you. Yeah he had a bad temper, but Ben always seemed to stomp away when you pissed him off, not attack you.
"And how long do I have to stay here?"
"Well, now that you're awake I want to keep you one more night for observation and do blood work again, but I'm not worried about sending you home." Dr. Martinez looks at Ben again before he looks at you. "Unless you want to stay longer?"
"What the fuck are you trying to say doc?" Ben growls, realizing exactly what the doctor is insinuating.
Your hand skates down Ben’s arm and entwines with his fingertips. Ben looks at it surprised.  “I'd like to go home with Ben as soon as possible." You say it to the doctor with a frown, not liking what the doctor is trying to say, but then you realize exactly how it sounds.
It wasn't a lie, you wanted to go home with Ben, wanted to go back to your everyday life and forget that all of this happened. You didn't mean to hold his hand, but it just seemed like the only way to get your point across.
"Alrighty then. I'll just have the nurse come in and take a little more blood." The doctor replies and backs quickly out of the room, casting one more look at Ben.
The three of you sit there for a moment in the silence that follows, Ben's eyes still on you, your hand still holding on to his. You quickly let go.
“I'm going to go down to the cafeteria before it closes. Do you want anything Ben?"
"No thanks Di. I'm good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck as if he's unsure what comes next.
"Di?" You turn to look at your grandmother with a frown.
"Do you want something sweetie?" She doesn’t look phased at Ben's use of the nickname.
"No I'm fine Di." You emphasize the nickname, but she doesn’t react.
"I'll bring you back some tea. That always seems to help you relax." She winks and places the mass of purple yarn onto the chair before she leaves the room with an elegant flourish.
The silence grows.
"Please tell me that you didn't fuck my grandmother. Because that wasn't on my bingo card this year and I really don’t want to have nightmares about the two of you."
Ben snorts. "Jealous Petals?"
"Oh fuck, just get out of here." You cover your eyes with your hand. "I can't even look at you right now. You're such a slut Gramps."
Ben only laughs at you and sits down on the side of your bed. His fingers gently pull your hand away from your face so he can look at you again.
"I didn't fuck your grandmother. We knew each other forever ago." He's still holding on to your wrist, his thumb smoothing against the soft skin on the inside of you arm. "But I will say that she is just as beautiful now as she was then. Really aged like fine wine-“
"You're not making this better."
"You look a lot like her." Ben says quietly.
Did he just call me beautiful?
You sit there for another minute, eyes focused on where Ben is holding your wrist. “I’m really sorry for what I said about Homelander and your team. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You already apologized.”
“When?”
“When I found you.” His jaw tightens at the memory. “You apologized.”
“Oh.”
“Are you-“ He clears his throat, eyes raising from your wrist to look at you. “Are you feeling better?” You watch his eyes trace the bruises around your neck, the black eye, and the cast again.
And for a moment he almost looks guilty.
Why is he guilty?
“Yeah. All the plants are really helping. It always makes me feel better to be surrounded by so many.” You smile at him, but Ben doesn’t return it.
“Plant boy brought them by.” Ben grunts. “You probably should call him. He was fawning all over you like a fucking pussy, thought he was going to cry.”
You thought that was ironic given that your grandmother had just told you that Ben hadn’t left the couch since you were brought in, but you didn’t want to tease him about that. Not now anyway.
You look at the gardenia on the small bedside table, the one you know that’s from home. “Not that one.” You glance back at Ben.
“No. I told Annie to bring that one.” Ben says as if it’s difficult for him. “I figured if it was on your bedside table in your room it must be important.”
“It’s my favorite. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand with your good one. “Really Ben, thank you for everything.” 
“Sure.”
Ben isn’t really holding your hand, your left is laying on its back cradled in his right where his thumb continues to rub along the thin skin of the inside as if he wants to trace along the veins.
“How long was I with Elijah?”
“Four days.” Ben grits his teeth together.
It was a surprise to hear how long you’d been there aloud, but a part of you knew in your heart how long it had been. 
“That feels about right.”
“I should have come sooner.”‘Ben murmurs it more to himself than to you. “I shouldn’t have let you go-“
“You tried to stop me remember? I should have listened to you instead of insulting you. I just-“ The tears were coming back. “I wanted to believe Darren. He’s my brother I thought-“ Your voice breaks. “And then Elijah-“
The memories of everything that happened were coming back tenfold now, worse then they had when your grandmother was there. The monitors to the right of the bed are beeping frantically now as your heart rate begins to spike and you begin to sob.
“Fuck.” Ben says under his breath. “Look Petals it’s okay. It’s alright-“
“No it’s not. My brother sold me to Elijah because he had fucking poker debt and Elijah wanted me to fix all those fucked up plants and then he-“  Your can't finish the sentence. You pull your hand from Ben's grasp to rub at your eyes, trying to make the tears stop but they don't. Memories of Elijah holding you down against the couch come surging up followed by the anxiety ridden question "What if?"
Ben's entire body goes stiff. "What did he do?"
You level your gaze at your left hand where it lays in your lap not wanting to answer. Ben's hand comes to cup your chin raising your eyes back to his. His green eyes have hardened, a murderous fire burning behind them that makes you worry about anyone who would ever get in his way. You'd never seen him so mad before, not even at you when you pissed him off.
"What did he do?" Ben says again in a low growl.
"He broke my arm-" You swallow the sob. "And then he put me in a freezer for a few days and when he took me out he tried to-" The memory of his oppressive weight and expensive cologne fills your nose, followed by the feeling of his hand fastened around your throat.
"He touched you?" Ben spits.
"I stopped him." You say in a whisper.
"How?"
"He had a poppy seed in his teeth."
The look in Ben's eyes shifts to surprise. "Really?"
You nod with a sniffle as another round of fresh tears comes out of your eyes.
"I saw the aftermath of it." Ben sighs retracting his hand from your chin. "Didn't think you could do something like that."
"Me neither. Guess it was a "desperate times desperate measures" sort of situation." You swipe the back your hand across your eyes. "But I really do want to go home, forget any of this happened-" Your voice cracks a little.
Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder in an awkward patting motion. "It's okay, Petals."
It enough to make you cough out a laugh. "What are you doing?"
"I don't fucking know. I just-" He drops his hand from your shoulder looking angry. "I don't like it when you cry." Ben says it more to himself than to you, as if he's ashamed he admitted it.
The admission makes something flicker to life in the center of your chest, a pilot light to some furnace that you'd blown out a long time ago.
"And I don’t fucking know what to do when women cry! Because y'all are always so damn emotional and-" He continues looking frustrated.
When you pull him into a hug, Ben stops mid-sentence. It's difficult with one arm, but you try your best. It's the first one the two of you have ever shared, given how much Ben hated showing affection that made sense, but you wanted to hug him. He had saved your life and maybe you could be friends despite everything else.
And you wanted to hug you because even though it made Ben uncomfortable, he had tried to comfort you. You weren't sure why, all you knew was that it made you smile.
Ben doesn't move, he goes completely tense in your arms, not accustomed to this and unsure what to do next. A part of you thought it was kind of cute how awkward he was when it came to something like this, but another part felt bad for him. You liked hugging people and were accustomed to doing just that, but it hurt you to think that Ben hadn't had any experience with someone giving him a hug that wasn't attached to anything else.
"Thank you, Ben." You whisper, pressing your face into his t-shirt. The smell of his spicy cologne burns your nose in the best way, the feeling of his warmth taking away the residual chill you feel when you think of the memories from a few days ago.
This is better than I remember.
You think, remembering how it felt to wake up in his arms and feel how his body molded around yours as if he was made for you.
"You're welcome, Petals." He says tightly, the pleasant rumble of his words vibrating against your cheek. He's not hugging you back, but you didn't expect him to. Not when he was awkward when it came to things like this.
You pull back from him, wiping your eyes again with the back of your hand. The longer you sit there together, the longer the silence grows between the two of you, but it's not uncomfortable. It's filled with an energy that you can't describe, hovering in the space, alive and charged.
Ben slowly raises his hand to your face, brushing back a strand of your hair with a surprising gentleness, the roughness of his hand is a comfort and you weren't prepared for how his touch burns against your skin.
“Did you really think I’d leave you there?” Ben murmurs, his eyes are a light green in the sunlight, like the budding grass on a summer day.
“You were mad at me. I-“ You look down at your lap.
“So?" Ben raises your chin with his hand.  "I said some shit too."
It wasn't an apology, but you were sure it was as close as he was going to get. What was weirding you out a bit was how often he was touching you and how gently. Not that you thought he would hurt you, just that he'd never tried to be this open to touch before. 
“Yeah, but it’s different. You might have pissed me off but I would have come to get you anyway because I know how much what happened in Russia hurt you.” It was the truth. You wouldn't have let anyone stop you if you knew that Ben was trapped somewhere, even if the two of you had been in a fight. He was your friend, sort of anyway. And you took care of your friends.
Ben’s body tenses at the mention of Russia, the memories that flash through his eyes are not pleasant. “Then don’t you think I’d want to come get you if I understand how fucked up that is?”
You blink at him surprised. "I didn't think about that."
Ben smirks. "And I thought you knew everything Petals."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"Never." His hand is still cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing just barely over your cheek.
Electricity charges through the air and you feel your lips begin to tingle. You want to kiss him so badly, to pull him close and allow yourself to finally fall into him. The memory of the two of you on the couch the other day resurfaces when he almost kissed you, when he looked so different than he usually did, when he looked at you differently in a way that you weren't sure what it meant, the same way he was looking at you right now. The gardenia plant on the bedside table explodes with fresh blooms and Ben glances over it with a chuckle. It was embarrassing that he knew your deepest darkest secret and it caused a flush to creep into your cheeks.
Ben smiles the same way he did the morning you were curled up against his chest on your couch. His thumb dips to brush along your bottom lip and you inhale in surprise. It seems to jar Ben back into reality.
"I'm going to go feed Bean." Ben drops his hand and stands from the bed, but he's still smiling at you the same way he was a few seconds ago. "I'll be back in an hour."
You try not to feel the loss of his skin against yours and try not to focus on how good it felt for him to touch you so tenderly.
"You don't have to come back." You begin to say, trying to make the flush fade. "It's only one more night and-"
"It's not that bad." Ben shrugs. "I mean my butt isn't as comfy on this couch as the one at home." He cracks another smile repeating what he said when you took him to IKEA, but then something flashes in his eyes. "Besides, the apartment's too quiet without your bitching. Rather be here and witness it first hand."
Is he trying to say that he misses me? No. There's no way that he'd ever admit that.
"Get out of here, you ass." You try to push him, but he catches your hand.
"Be careful Petals, you don’t want to break the only arm you have left."
"I'm gonna break my foot off in your ass if you don’t get out of here." You groan rolling your eyes.
"Didn't think you’d be into that, but I'd be willing to try whatever you want Petals. As long as I get you all to myself" Ben is still holding on to your hand. "Do you-" His smirk shifts into something softer and he swallows. "Want me to bring you anything from home?"
You imagine that his voice changes when he says the word "home." But you don't imagine the way it sticks in your chest when he does.
"No, I think I'm okay." You frown down at your cast mournfully. "I'm never going to be able to finish any of my crochet projects with this thing."
"Yes, because that's why most people are upset when they break an arm."
"I thought you'd know by now that I'm not like everyone else."
"Trust me I noticed." Ben chuckles with a smile that makes your heartbeat stutter.
"Don’t knock it til you try it Gramps. I thought you'd be old enough to appreciate the quality of handmade goods. Didn’t your generation still do that or whatever?"
Ben rolls his eyes, but then he squeezes your hand so quick you think that you imagined it. "I'll be back. Try not to give your grandmother a hard time while I'm gone."
"You think that me giving her a hard time will ruin your chances with her?" You snort.
"I already tried years ago." Ben shrugs. "Then again she might give me another chance. It's been a while"
"You couldn't handle me then Benjamin and you can't handle me now." Your grandmother says as she re-enters the room holding a steaming cup of tea for you and a cup for herself. "But hurry back. I want to beat you at poker one more time before I go back to Illinois."
"I let you win." Ben grouses.
"Whatever you say sweetie." She sits back down on the chair to resume knitting, but you catch a glimmer of her smile quirking the ends of her lips.
Ben only rolls his eyes and throws you one last look filled with an emotion that you can't place before he vanishes out the door. And you try not to think about how empty the room is when he's gone, how the hell he knows your grandmother, and why your heart was skipping like a kid frolicking in a field full of sunflowers.
Tumblr media
A/N: I know Darren didn't get got in this chapter, but he is going to come back into play next chapter. But this one was definitely bloody... Kinda was horrified with the place my mind went when she was killing those men with those poppies, but I like to think that people really do underestimate what she can do because they think she "just makes the plants grow" when in reality it's more complicated and way more powerful than people think. And I know, a lot of more denial, but we are starting to see the walls beginning to crumble and the unraveling between the two of them as they both begin to come to terms with their feelings.
As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love to hear what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series please let me know :)
Taglist:
@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard
@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb
@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40
@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse
@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles
@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger
@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog
@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy
@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn
@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78
@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester
@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery
@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta
@melonmochi
256 notes · View notes
maysileeewrites · 1 year ago
Text
18+ content; mdni!
Thinking about attending an important state dinner with Husband!Coriolanus
At first, he’d try to keep you safe and closely at his side, a possessive hand set on your waist; his grip on you tightening whenever you’d so much as even look too long at another man.
But then, later, after everyone’s eaten and most people have already had too much to drink, you’re coming back from the bathroom - only to see him deep in conversation with another woman, laughing, her hand on his arm.
What’s even more infuriating to you - he makes no move to remove her hand; at least not until you slide up to him from behind, settling your hands on his waist and kissing him very deliberately and intentionally.
„There you are, Darling, I’ve been looking all over for you“, you say, trying to force a smile as you turn to take in the other woman. „And you haven’t even introduced me to this lovely woman - hello, I’m Y/N Snow, Coriolanus‘s wife, I believe we haven’t met yet“, you say.
Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Coriolanus smirking to himself (he loves seeing you jealous, knowing what he’s in for later tonight.)
Later, when you get home, you’re quiet and withdrawn, so much so, that Coriolanus genuinely starts to worry.
„Something wrong, Darling?“
„Who was she?“, you say, whirling around to face him.
„Who - Augustina? She’s no one, I just know her from work-“
„Do not lie to me, Coriolanus Snow“, you say, trying to control the jealousy coursing through you.
„I told you, darling, she’s no one. Just someone who teaches at the academy - there’s no reason for you to be jealous.“
You huff a sigh of frustration. „I’m not-“
„Jealous?“, Coryo interrupts you, an infuriating, teasing smirk on his lips. „Because, darling - to me it looks a whole lot like you are jealous - over someone that doesn’t even matter. I told you, there’s only you.“
As if to punctuate his words, Coriolanus steps even closer towards you, until the back of your legs are hitting the desk in his study.
Smirking, he reaches up and tugs a stray strand of hair behind your ear, before claiming your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, cutting off whatever it was that you were about to say.
Helplessly, you tangle your hands in Snow‘s curls, trying to ground yourself - trying to remember why you were so upset with him in the first place.
Though it becomes harder and harder to form any kind of coherent thought when Coriolanus deepens the kiss, his tongue moving against yours, before he abruptly pulls back, breaking the kiss.
You gasp, trying to regain your breath, when suddenly, Coriolanus drops down to his knees in front of you, using one hand to spread your legs apart.
He uses his other hand to bunch up the skirt of your dress, pushing the fabric aside, before running his hand up your inner thighs, fingers gently brushing over your smooth, sensitive skin.
You gasp, when suddenly, his fingers brush right over your clit, only covered by the thin fabric of your already embarrassingly soaked-through panties.
„So wet“, he groans, before leaning forward and burying his head between your thighs, inhaling your scent deeply, causing you to whimper.
„Coryo, I-“
„Sh, it’s alright, I’m going to take care of you now, darling“, he says, before roughly tugging your panties down.
His hands settle on your waist, his grip on you so hard that you’re sure that it’ll leave bruises tomorrow.
Then, without warning, he licks along your clit, before his tongue delves into your folds.
„Coryo - I - fuck!“, you pant, moaning, hands tugging desperately at his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded against this immense pleasure that’s threatening to overwhelm you.
He looks up at you then, his tongue delving into you, reaching that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars, one of his hands finding its way to your clit, drawing teasing circles over it.
You can’t help but moan again - the sight of Coriolanus between your legs, looking up at you like that, is almost enough to send you over the edge.
His tongue reaches that spot inside you once more, before he suddenly pulls away again, looking up at you with a smirk on his swollen, slick-covered lips.
„Gonna make you feel good, show you that there’s only you - you’re it for me, baby“, he promises, his thumb still drawing lazy circles over your clit.
He doesn’t give you any time to respond, though, his tongue delving between your folds again, and you throw your head back, moaning.
You desperately try to buck up your hips again, trying to create some sort of friction, but Coriolanus‘s hand is still on your waist, his iron-grip keeping you in place.
„Coryo, please“, you whine, but he doesn’t acknowledge your breathy whimpers, his tongue unrelenting as it pushes into you again and again and again, at the same time that his fingers are still circling over your clit.
You whimper, tugging at his hair again - so hard that it probably hurts, but Coryo only acknowledges your action with a satisfied groan that seems to reverberate deep within your core.
The pressure inside you keeps building and building, almost unbearable now, yet Coriolanus keeps going - his tongue hitting that spot inside you again and again, his fingers stimulating your clit.
You’re a panting, quivering mess; you’re so close - and Coriolanus seems to sense it as well, increasing the pressure of his fingers on your clit, while he finally releases the iron grip his other hand had on your waist, reaching up towards your breasts.
„Coryo, I - fuck, I’m gonna-“, you pant, trying to warn him.
He looks up at you then, his pupils dark and blown, the expression in his eyes wild, intense and desperate. That does it for you, then - seeing him look up at you like that, his head between your legs, his tongue inside you; it sends you over the edge.
You come with a loud moan, back arching, hand searching frantically for Coryo’s. He squeezes your hand then, guiding you through your orgasm, as you come harder than you’ve ever come before.
His mouth is still on your clit and he laps up all your juices - the sensation too much for your oversensitive nerves and with a loud cry, you come again for a second time.
Coriolanus takes it all, actually smirking up at you. Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him, but you’re too exhausted, so you settle on tugging hard on his curls.
Coriolanus just smirks again, before pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. The action has you squirming - you’re still so sensitive and exhausted from your two back-to-back orgasms.
Coriolanus presses yet another kiss on your thigh, before finally coming up again, hands settling on your waist, claiming your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss.
„Fuck, maybe I should make you jealous more often, darling.“
Tumblr media
for more Coryo imagines, take a look at my Coryo masterlist :)
1K notes · View notes
eloves-writes · 11 months ago
Text
so it goes…
[coriolanus snow x reader]
Tumblr media
desc: part 2 here! as dr gaul’s assistant, you find yourself alone in her laboratory bearing an unpleasant task with her other mentee, coriolanus snow, who you strongly despise. or so it goes … warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), slightly public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, think that's it but please lmk if i need to add anything! a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my last fic! and thank you anon for this request, i love and appreciate requests more than you know!!! enjoy this. will for sure write a second chapter if one singlular person expresses interest. mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
dr gaul’s lab was filled with weird and wonderful (but mostly weird) things. you sat, bored, on your side of the gamemaker’s desk staring at shelves and shelves of creatures of all shapes and sizes with various muttations. according to the clock beside you, it had been 30 minutes since gaul herself had left the room to ‘see to something’. it was often best not to ask questions when things like that happened, but you really wished she would come back soon as your work day technically ended in a few minutes and gaul’s second-favourite mentee came to visit her after hours almost every day. coriolanus snow was not necessarily an unpleasant person, not to you at least, but he was certainly unbearable. he was so up his own ass thinking he was better than everybody else that he failed to realise how much of a pompous twat he was. ‘snow lands on top’. god, those four words were practically all you heard come out of his mouth when he wasn’t sucking up to dr gaul or spewing fake niceties to any authoritative figure who would listen.
as you were thinking about how annoying he is and how pretentious his stupid hairstyle was, the door to the lab was hauled open by the peacekeepers who stood guard outside. thank god gaul was back, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. not that you weren’t grateful for this assistant’s position, because it was a highly coveted role for university students each year and you’d beat them all out for it. even snow. ha. even suck-up snow. fuck. snow.
the tall blond had entered the lab and was walking up to your desk with his usual self-assured smile and red uniform.
“y/n, good evening.”
“snow.”
his pleasant facade dropped for just a moment at your monotonous response.
“where’s dr gaul?”
you passive aggressively put down the pen you had been tapping on the desk.
“i don’t know,” you replied blandly, studying his face like you trying to read his mind. “she left like a half hour ago to ‘see to something’, but she’s not been back. i’d suggest you leave and speak to her tomorrow instead.”
coriolanus pulled a face as if thoroughly surprised that anyone could be anything less than cordial to him. it was a subtle change in expression, but you figured that’s what he was thinking.
“that’s quite alright, y/n,” he smiled mockingly, “i’ll sit right here and wait. nowhere to be tonight.”
“shocker,” you murmured, watching as snow sat in the empty chair opposite you.
the two of you stayed sat at gaul’s desk for almost 10 minutes before either of you said anything else.
“how is the apprenticeship going?” snow asked, trying to fill the awkward silence by feigning interest.
“it’s great. thanks. thrilling, actually. i’m having the time of my life. this is so much fun,” you retorted.
coriolanus raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “you know, every one of gaul’s students wanted this apprenticeship. if you’re not enjoying it, i am more than certain that you could find somebody to fill the role.”
you huffed sarcastically. “oh good try, snow. i’m not giving it up that easily.”
“so i’ve heard,” he muttered.
before you could respond to that, the laboratory doors hauled open again and dr gaul finally returned.
“ah, coriolanus, good,” she welcomed, entering with purpose in her stride. “i have a small ask of the pair of you.”
there was no way in the whole of panem that this would be a ‘small’ ask, coming from her. coriolanus’ eyes widened in apprehension.
“don’t make that face at me, coriolanus snow.”
“sorry.”
“good. i must continue to deal with a situation that has arisen, i need you two to feed chupa before he gets too hungry. that’s all, then you both may leave and i shall see you," you watched her search for a rhyme, "before tomorrow’s eve.”
then she turned to leave, with you and coriolanus pulling faces of horror. ‘chupa’ was a particularly hideous and dangerous looking creature that gaul had advised you, on multiple occasions, to keep your distance from. and now she was asking you to feed him? sometimes it was like she wanted you dead.
“wait a minute,” you said hesitantly. gaul moved only her head to look at you and you regretted opening your mouth immediately. “sorry, dr gaul, you want us,” you motioned to yourself and snow, “to feed that,” you pointed at the cage where the beast appeared to be smirking.
“yes,” she replied plainly. “he will eat anything, but he most likes the small green snakes.”
with that, she left the lab again.
coriolanus looked at you, looked at chupa, then looked back at you. “what the fuck is that?”
you snorted, enjoying seeing him uncomfortable. “do you want to get the snakes, or shall i?”
“you get them,” he spoke quickly. “i don’t like snakes.”
you were suspicious at this apparently strong aversion to the slithering reptiles. perhaps they’d scared him when he was younger, and never shook it off. or perhaps one had bitten him. you imagined him flailing his arms and screaming and it made you chuckle to yourself as you took a jar half-filled with thin, forest green snakes. they weren’t venomous, in fact they were quite amiable and undeserving of being fed to the ugly brute in the cage beside you. regardless, you removed two snakes from the jar and placed it back on the shelf.
coriolanus was keeping his distance, making you do all the work. lazy asshole.
“can you open the cage?” you directed snarkily. he tentatively unfastened the top of the cage, standing closer to you than he ever had before. up close, he looked like a real person. a real person who was just as real as everybody else in the capitol, not any better. he smelt better than a lot of them though. like cologne and fresh roses. you mentally chastised yourself for noticing and tried to focus on the task at hand.
your snake-holding hand slid towards chupa’s mouth, which opened to reveal a large set of sharp fangs that seemed to be moving upwards
“be careful of the fangs,” snow warned from behind you.
“thank you coriolanus, i’m so glad you told me that. i was truly about to stick my fingers into his mouth,” you retorted sarcastically, starting to feed the snakes to the disgusting creature.
he mumbled something incoherent that sounded something like “i wish you would.”
“sorry what was that, snow? did you say something,” you asked, becoming more irritated by his unhelpful presence.
as chupa finished the tail of the second snake, he bit the air above him in an attempt to get your hand for dessert, making you rapidly withdraw your hand from the cage and leap backwards. coriolanus dropped the lid in shock and it thankfully fastened itself.
when you had leapt backwards, you had leapt backwards straight into snow’s arms that he had instinctively wrapped around you in protection. his arms were stronger than they looked through his uniform jacket, and his chest much more toned. it felt beyond strange to be this close to him. but something deep inside of you suddenly yearned to be closer, and you slowly rotated yourself in his arms to face him, hands pressed against his chest.
coriolanus was looking into your eyes like nothing else was in the room. like he had never seen a person’s eyes this close before. he was looking at you like you were most incredibly fascinating thing he had ever seen.
and maybe you were; he had grown used to the capitol women throwing themselves at him. he didn’t struggle to take them home, had no issues finding a date to all the various events he attended. then there you were- snapping at him and poking fun at him, and not even waiting until his back was turned to roll your eyes or pull faces. in what he deemed a cruel twist of fate, you were the only girl in the capitol who didn’t look at him like he was god, and you were the only girl in the capitol he truly felt something deeper than momentary lust for.
his lust for you was not momentary. it was perpetual. and having you this close to him, safe and protected in his arms, confirmed for him that you needed to be his. the world bent to the will of coriolanus snow. and so would you.
in an instant where your body no longer obeyed your better judgment, you pressed your lips to coriolanus’.
he kissed you back like you were a source of oxygen, using his advantageous hold of you to force you to walk backwards towards the rows of bookshelves behind gaul’s desk without separating your lips. he swiftly checked the door to make sure nobody had snuck in before your bodies were eclipsed by the cover of the well-stocked shelves and you were roughly pushed up against them. snow continued to kiss you, moving down to your neck to leave marks sure to raise questions the next morning, then down to your collarbone, unbuttoning your blouse as he went so that his path was clear to mark you with his mouth all the way down to the waistband of your skirt. his kneeled down before you and pushed up your skirt, looking up at you for approval. you nodded, still caught up in the moment. this was fine. this felt good. it really felt good when snow removed your panties and placed your legs over his shoulders, holding you up at the waist and running his tongue along your folds, earning a loud moan from you. he withdrew his head from you skirt to shush you, before returning his tongue to your centre and flicking it against your clit. you bit onto your knuckle to absorb the sound of the whimpers escaping you. where the fuck had he learned to do this? it felt heavenly, his mouth drawing you ever closer to release with his large hands digging into your hips to keep you in position.
“coryo,” you whispered. “coryo, i’m close.”
he began to hum in acknowledgement, sending you right over the edge. a moan slipped from your mouth as you came, feeling your slick drip onto his face. he continued to lap at your juices as you rode out your orgasm, a blissful haze washing over you. if these were the skills making snow so cocky, you couldn’t fault him for that particular trait any longer. he lifted his head and smiled at you like a man who was very aware you’d just cum on his face by his manipulation. he helped you take your legs from his shoulders with a satisfied smirk when they wobbled under the weight of your body, then he kissed you again, softer this time, to force you to taste yourself on his tongue. you reached your hand forward to his crotch, palming him through his constricting pants. he indulged you for a minute, then removed your hand and lifted it to his lips like a true gentlemen.
you felt a little disappointed to not repay the favour, finally feeling content with your formerly repressed lust for the man.
but then he leaned down to your ear and whispered in a low tone, “you can owe me one,” before giving you one last lewd kiss and leaving you stood behind the bookshelves in the head gamemaker’s office with messed up hair and a realisation that you really wanted coriolanus snow to come and visit after hours again tomorrow.
999 notes · View notes
theoldsports · 1 year ago
Text
Moody.
Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 3.3k words
depression, arguing, manipulation/toxic marriage, fucking each other over, possessiveness. it’s tamer than some of my others in an objective sense, but emphasizes dark thoughts and internal monologue.
requests always open! thanks for your kindnesses. i think this one is more experimental than the others. the objective here was to show how both of them mimic regular human feelings because they know they should, but it’s a poor pantomime. two sickos with nothing else but each other <3 i think i am going to call these works the Truculent series.
Coriolanus grew cold fast and did not tolerate heat well. He only slept only in his underclothes and wore heavy layers at the first sight of winter. His alarmingly fair complexion meant excessive sun wasn’t in the cards. In spite of his name, his scrappy build wasn’t meant to cut through harsh January terrain either. His nails chipped at labor, and his mind grew uneasy at laziness.
The world was tough on Coriolanus and he was tough right back on the word.
There was little Coriolanus was designed to do. Many people were strong, or smart, or wealthy, or drop-dead-gorgeous, or violent, or talented. There was something about every person Coriolanus could think of that made them stand out. He could easily categorized people by them. Here was the group of people known for their beautiful voices; here, those who could benchpress four-hundred pounds… Coriolanus could not be quantified like that.
Coriolanus Snow had to take what was left, like a runt. He was only good at two things: enduring and controlling. Since those were the only options leftover for him, Coriolanus became the best at them both. When, like Coriolanus, one has been gifted such shitty talents and nothing else, they have to figure out how to use them well enough to win against everyone with a better gift. Eventually, he realized his talents were not the ability to endure and the ability to control, but actually the ability to win. Eventually, he won so much, Coriolanus forgot there was ever a time when he lost (most days).
(The days he didn’t forget were the Bad Days).
Coriolanus felt like he couldn’t get out of bed on the Bad Days when the crushing weight of his failures and his ego landed across his chest. He told himself he was done with love after Lucy Gray. Disgusting Lucy Gray, a name he never wanted to even think again. He thought he would marry someone he hated and be done with love.
But junkies and addicts quit every Monday anyway.
Once he found [Y/N] again after their childhood together, there was no quitting. He knew it was bad for him, so he married what was bad for him to make sure he had an endless supply. How he hated that familiar feeling of obsession, the feeling of being so desperate that he had to rely on something other than himself. Somehow, he would have to sustain the feeling without losing his girl like an idiot. Marriage was likely the thing to steel their attempt at a bond.
Upon waking up to the alarm that morning, Coriolanus knew this was one of those Bad Days. Maybe it was the weather, the stress of Games. First year as head Gamemaker had almost driven Coriolanus mad under the pressure to succeed. He reached over to turn off the clock that buzzed painfully at six in the morning every day ending with a Y.
“Coryo…” [Y/N] mumbled, hearing him stir beside her. The sound must have woken her. She tossed an arm over his chest.
“‘Mornin’, Darling,” Coriolanus replied, wishing he were dead.
[Y/N] immediately picked up on the flatness of his tone, but she knew better than to push him too far. “All good?” She asked.
Coriolanus grumbled passively. He rarely did anything passively. Coriolanus grabbed the hand over his chest and dragged it up to the side of his face to rest it there, but only after he had kissed [Y/N] palm.
“You’re affectionate this morning.”
“I just missed you. I’ve been busy.” He said dismissively, pressing his face further into her hand.
“Well, thanks, dear, but don’t you have work?” [Y/N] asked. She propped her chin up on his shoulder to stare at him inquisitively. This attitude was odd. First thing in the morning during Games seasons, she got a kiss on the forehead and then Coriolanus was gone for a run and a shower and out til nightfall, barring special occasions.
“Don’t you?”
“Not til early evening today. Normally, you’re up and out of here first thing on a Tuesday morning,” [Y/N] told him, as she rubbed from his cheek to the side of his throat gently. She dragged her hand up his face to rest on his worried forehead. “You sick, or something?”
“No.” Coriolanus replied weakly. He closed his eyes again. He couldn’t face the legendary blunder he had made at work. Coriolanus had allowed his aides to code the program for the arena wrong. The open water was nowhere near as deep as was needed for the aquatic muttations. It was causing all sorts of trouble. The Games would end too fast if he didn’t do something, yet the stress of thinking of reaching across the nightstand for his Communicuff was paralyzing.
“You sure? You don’t feel feverish,” She confirmed. [Y/N] sat up to press her lips to his forehead just in case her cold hands had misread his temperature. “I can call the doctor, though.”
“[Y/N], stop. I’m fine.” Coriolanus lied harshly. He tried to sit up, but his psychological anguish made him feel like vomiting.
“Call in. Stay here.” She suggested, watching his weak movement to sit up.
“I’m head Gamemaker, I don’t get to call in. I need to go for a run’n I’ll be fine.”
[Y/N] raised an eyebrow. “So you aren’t currently fine? Because you said—“
“I know what the fuck I said, okay?” Coriolanus barked. “Wanna recap anything else, or can I go?”
Sharply, [Y/N] scooted away from him to the other side of the bed. His moods were hardly predictable. She sighed. “Fine,” She said, averting her eyes to her hands like a scolded girl. “I was merely concerned that you—“
Coriolanus scoffed at her and shakily stood up from the bed. He quickly stepped into the closet and stepped joggers and a wifebeater. [Y/N] hoped he would grab a jacket as well; the weather was much too cold for mid summer. The Capitol itself got disproportionately cold often. She didn’t say anything out loud, though. “Get off my ass. Can’t you sit there and be grateful for once? With all that I do for you?Fucking hell.” Coriolanus said. He did not so much as look back at her as he stormed out of the bedroom.
[Y/N] could not understand what she had done wrong. The only things she had were provided through Coriolanus or simply the man himself. Once Coriolanus was presumed out of earshot, [Y/N] dropped her head into her hands and cried. Not tears of frustration or anger, but tears of self-pity that her one lifeline had yelled at her like that.
By the time Coriolanus returned from his run, it appeared his wife had gone out for the day. Strange since she usually capitalized on the extra sleep if she was not working downtown with Capitol News until evening shift. Since their reckless young adulthood of media stunts, Coriolanus had watched [Y/N] grow a stifling love for spectacle. With his support and their shared deranged name recognition, she had quickly risen from an editor, to a correspondent (brief. He had helped her but her way up and out of that position) to Associate Head of Programming for Capitol News. It helped to have his wife steer both their media narratives from the inside.
Except for when she was mad at him.
Coriolanus wiped the sweat off his brow in the shower as he thought. There was no doubt in his mind that [Y/N] was going to run some sort of primetime bulletin that made him look a fool during his Games coverage that night. It was bad enough that Lucky Flickerman was beginning to look like botox had gotten better of him, in addition to Coriolanus’ own fuck up with the muttations. Fact of the matter was that viewership was down and [Y/N] was going to make it worse. She was going to make his Bad Day worse and he knew it.
He could feel his heart rate racing as he stood under the shower’s cold stream. His equally cold blue eyes glanced across the bathroom at the clock. Six-fifty AM. Realistically, he need to be into the Gameroom by no later than eight-thirty, but it frustrated him to be in later than eight. In roughly an hour, how could he perform the maximum amount of damage control? Coriolanus’ head began to ache at the thought.
She had never run that harsh of a piece on him before, but it was a Bad Day, and no doubt she was angry with him for his attitude. [Y/N] was capable of a great many horrible things. Wouldn’t Coriolanus himself want to sting somebody back who he had known was pissy with him?
When he exited the shower, Coriolanus rushed to dress himself. [Y/N] said she wasn’t working until late. But where, then, had she gone? With all the thinking about his own feelings, he hadn’t considered that conundrum.
Coriolanus called her secretary, a boring woman with a name neither man nor wife could recall. According to that woman, [Y/N] had not gone early to work. He rang Tigris. Tigris said [Y/N] had not been over unless she was lying which Coriolanus wouldn’t put past her. The Plinths swear they had not encountered her.
Coriolanus stared down at his datapad of phone numbers. He refrained from calling all of their friends because he didn’t want to to exude the panic he was starting to feel for letting his wife run away. None of her belongings seemed out of place. Her suitcase was present in the back of their closet. Still, Coriolanus was terrified in the back of his mind that his wife had finally left him. A year and half was a dreadful lifespan for a marriage in his opinion. [Y/N] was not getting away that easily.
However, his watch told him it was eight and the Games weren’t going to run themselves.
Throughout the day, Coriolanus could not get his heart rate to settle. It made him feel ill. So ill, in fact, that he couldn’t keep down most of breakfast, or all of lunch. He skipped dinner all together. Who was [Y/N] to up and leave him like that?
The slight rational segment of his brain told him to walk it back, but the rest of his brain paid no mind. Coriolanus had nothing going for him other than gut instincts and his gut instincts now were implying something was fundamentally wrong.
Coriolanus’ decision-making was way off of its game at work. Coriolanus, for ratings, could not allow the Hunger Games to end on a Tuesday night. Somehow, he would have to create obstacles to last the four remaining tributes til Friday. He didn’t much like those odds. He was going to cave and hand in his resignation before the end of the day, he was certain.
Though, at eight in the evening, the primetime announcement or chiron that Coriolanus was a shitty husband or a murderer never cut through his broadcast to make his Day irreparably Bad. Nor did it at eight-thirty, or even nine. Coriolanus felt shaky. Maybe with relief for his reputation, maybe because he had nothing in his system.
If nothing had aired at Coriolanus’ expense on TV, had something happened to [Y/N] while he was on his run, or later? Was this some rebel attempt to bring the head Gamemaker to his knees? An attempt from a bitter rival to play games with him? Coriolanus frowned. Many things could have happened to his wife between six in the morning and nine at night. Coriolanus could barely stand up as it was. He clocked out and summoned his driver as quick as he could.
The second Coriolanus’ key entered the lock, he started shouting with the energy he had left. The door had yet to even close behind him. “[Y/N]! [Y/N], my love! Are you here?” Coriolanus pushed open every cabinet and closet on his way to the bedroom. Empty. He checked the closet - her suitcase remained. Coriolanus had called her office on his way home. She had not shown up for work. Unheard of.
Coriolanus ran through every room of the townhouse shouting [Y/N]’s name over and over until he felt hoarse. He could only imagine what the neighbors thought. Then he saw the attic door open.
The door remained open, but the stairs to the attic had snapped back up halfway and gotten jammed. “Coryo!” He heard [Y/N] yell faintly from upstairs.
“Darling, are you… in the attic?” Coriolanus shouted back cautiously under the open door. He watched as [Y/N]’s tearstained face peered around the edges of the attic door. It was really her. Not a Jabberjay, not a setup. Coriolanus exhaled for what felt like the first time all day. “Let me come up. I’ll come to you. Hold on!” Coriolanus’ finally left behind the Bad Day as he leapt into action. Protecting his wife was his job before Gamemaker, or any other obligation. Anyone in the Capitol would remember their vows, or her smashing cake into his face much to his dismay. Marriage was socially his most binding contract of all. Coriolanus did not take contractional obligations lightly.
Coriolanus had not realized that his wife was so delicate and helpless as to get stuck in the attic. She needed him more than he thought. His heart swelled with pride. Coriolanus grabbed a broomstick and hooked the hinge in the stairs. He yanked with all his strength until the ladder descended. Quickly, he dropped a large sack of rice from the kitchen counter over the bottom step in hopes it would weight the stairs down and he took off up them.
“[Y/N], are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, popping his head through the attic door
There on the unfinished attic floor sat [Y/N], bundled up in her thin teddy she had been wearing when Coriolanus left. She had only that and a too-short blanket Tigris had crocheted as a child. There was very little in the attic at all. Some of the Grandma’am’s belongings in clear glass bins and whatever surviving relics had carried on from their post-war childhoods.
It was clear [Y/N] had been crying. “I thought you would come back.” She sniffled.
Coriolanus urgently climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and sat carefully down beside [Y/N], wrapping her in his long arms possessively. “I thought something happened to you,” Also, that you tried to leave me. “You’re freezing… How long have you been up here?”
“Since you went on your run.”
“Shit… All that time?”
[Y/N] thought her tears had long since stopped, but seeing Coriolanus appear upset about ignoring her all day made her want his attention more. She wanted him to feel bad.
The tears started flowing the second his arms were looped around her waist. [Y/N] rested her head on Coriolanus’s shoulder heavily. “Coryo, you just left. I come up here all the time to think and I didn’t think it would—“
The blonde man’s heart softened at the sight of her. “Darling, Darling, shh, don’t cry,” Coriolanus combed his hand through sobbing [Y/N]’s hair. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”
Coriolanus felt like he was able to play the role of comforter and protector nobly tonight in a way he had recently felt inadequate at. With ease, he draped her legs across his lap and adjusted her arms around his neck so that her body was completely supported by his. She clung to him like a desperate child. The skin-to-skin contact was most appreciated by Coriolanus after the Day he’d had. Coriolanus excitedly drew a breathe from her neck, taking in her scent.
[Y/N] sobbed dramatically into Coriolanus’ dress shirt, but he pretended not to care like a good husband. “I’m sorry. I c-couldn’t—couldn’t get down. I th-thought you would come get me. I shout-ted for you,” she played up her tears. [Y/N] played up everything for attention; they both knew that. But the situation was mutually beneficial for people that liked attention so damn much. “You didn’t hear me.” You never hear me.
“Oh, Princess…” Coriolanus rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hoping it would warm her up. He pulled away from her regrettably and stripped off his blazer. He wrapped it around her shoulders and pulled it carefully in front of her. He knew [Y/N] would like the gesture. Now, Coriolanus did not say I’m sorry. It was not his fault that [Y/N] had fled to the attic. He did instead try to make good from now forward. “I was so worried, I started to think something happened to you. I wanted to give you space, but then I didn’t hear from you all day. I’m relieved to know the only monster that got you was the attic,” Coriolanus leaned into her neck to kiss her in his favorite place. “You sat up here in all this junk and dust today; how are you still so stunning?”
[Y/N] laughed through a wet sniffle as Coriolanus searingly kissed her neck. “I didn’t know I’d worried you this much.” She muttered.
“I didn’t know I’d upset you this much,” Coriolanus agreed. That was as close to I’m sorry as she was going to get. “What did you do up here all day?”
“W-Went through some boxes. Found your old uniform.” [Y/N] smiled back.
“My Peacekeeper uniform?” Coriolanus asked in surprise. He hoped that she had not found anything else, if there was anything more scathing up in the attic.
“Mhm,” she affirmed. [Y/N] stood shakily from the floor, snot dripping from her nose. Snot, which she knew better than to wipe on the sleeve of his blazer. She followed where the beams were in the floor nimbly so she didn’t put her foot through the ceiling below her. [Y/N] collected a decently sized metal crate with a handle on it. PRIVATE SNOW, CORIOLANUS B. was stamped on top of the dusty, dented metal. She carried it back to Coriolanus and sat down with it in front of him.
“I didn’t go through everything in here, that felt intrusive, but I did pull this out,” they both knew that was a lie and that she had absolutely gone through every item, but Coriolanus let her keep going without cutting in. [Y/N] decided she would still let him explain the history behind every item he wanted to share anyway.
When she shook the long gray-blue jacket out of the box, something happened that hadn’t happened last time she took the jacket out. “Coriolanus, what’s this?” [Y/N] asked, plucking a bulky chain off the floor that had tumbled from the coat’s breast pocket.
“Ah, I’d forgotten where those went. Dog tags from my time in Twelve.” Coriolanus said.
“I still have my father’s. You were like a real soldier then, huh?”
“Peacekeeper.” Coriolanus corrected.
“Yes, Peacekeeper.” [Y/N] agreed quietly.
[Y/N] held the two identical pendants in her hands.
SNOW, CORIOLANUS
CITADEL, CAPITOL
4147769218S 12
O NEG
CREMATE
His entire identity all on two pieces of nickel. While she squinted at the embossed metal, Coriolanus leaned forward across the box that had once held his entire world and grabbed the chain she was holding as well as her hands. [Y/N]’s red weepy eyes met his crystal clear blue ones. “Would you like them?”
“You don’t want to keep them?”
“Certainly not. My name right there on your chest? That’s preferable to them sitting in a dusty box forever. People will know who you belong to if you wander off like this again. ‘Know you’re not, hm, like… up for finders-keepers.” Coriolanus shifted them out of [Y/N]’s hands and dropped the chain around her neck as if it were the finest gold necklace he had ever purchased her.
Coriolanus put that box up in the attic because he had not wanted to think about it ever again. Above all, though, Coriolanus Snow was an opportunistic man and he put those dog tags on [Y/N] just like he had Lucy Gray because he knew this move was flattering. If it worked once, it would work again. Sickeningly, he pulled out the same words he had used before too: “There. All mine.”
“All yours.” [Y/N] replied.
TAGLIST:
@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst
as usual, apologies if your tag didn’t work. tumblr’s tough like that. also so sorry if i forgot anyone! remind me if i did!
944 notes · View notes
phoward89 · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Banner by me, dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics
Based on this ask
Warnings: Dark!Stepbrother!Coriolanus Snow, Bigot General Crassus Snow, Implied child abuse, cussing, obsessive behavior, smut. AU of sorts.
Tumblr media
When your mother started dating some war hero general, you didn't think much of it. Your mother's dated men, mostly officers, over the years and nothing ever came of it. So when your mother announced that Crassus proposed and she said yes, you nearly had a stroke.
Your older brother, Rein, had signed up for the peacekeepers the very next day. You think it was to get the hell out of the house, since Crassus Snow had a reputation of being a very cold, stern, and cruel man.
Not that you knew much about him. But you kind of knew his son. Well, you didn't know Coriolanus, but you went to the Academy with him.
Little did you know, Coriolanus has been secretly watching you ever since his balls dropped and his voice changed. He always thought that you were a beautiful little dove. His darling rose. He had a crush *cough* obsession *cough* with you, but would only watch you from afar.
His group of friends (rich asshole kids he had to play nice with) weren't the type of people that would accept you. You weren't from one of the great Capitol families.
But, despite not being able to be seen with you, he was determined that one day he'd have you pinned down on his bed.
How he planned on doing that if he never talks to you, well, who knows…
So, when Crassus Snow told his son that he was getting married to your mother, well, Coriolanus was over the moon. He was finally going to be able to fulfill his fantasies; pin you down on his mattress and fuck you into it until you begged for mercy.
The day after he found out you were going to be his new stepsister, he approached you at the Academy. You were talking with one of your friends, waiting for classes to start, in the main hallway. He felt that now was the perfect time to introduce you to the right friend circle to have; to claim you as his own too.
“Why isn't it Y/N Halvir, my new stepsister.”
“Your mother's marrying his father? Oh, I feel so bad for you…” Your friend whispered so only you'd be able to hear her.
Giving Coriolanus a fake smile, you simply greeted him with, “Hi, Coriolanus. Shouldn't you be with your own friends?”
“I’m actually here to take you with me so that you can meet them, now that you're a Snow.” Coriolanus replied, his icy eyes taking in every inch of you.
“Our parents aren't married yet, I'm nothing to you, but your classmate at the moment.” You reminded him, since he's never shown interest in you before; doesn't need to either since your parents’ are still planning the wedding.
Well Crassus’ mother, your soon to be new Grandma’am, was planning it while her son was footing the bill. You hope she doesn't pick out some frilly, gaudy, girly puffball of a dress for you to wear.
Coriolanus gave you a smile that was all pearly whites and sickeningly sweet. “Dear sweet stepsister, in time they'll be married, and I just want to introduce you to my friends.”
Your friend noticed the glint in Coriolanus' icy eyes and was afraid for you. She didn't know much about him, but he always intimidated her. Gave her the creeps for some reason she couldn't pinpoint. Your friend looked between you and your soon to be stepbrother, hoping that he'd just leave you alone.
Sadly, that didn't happen.
Coriolanus' large hand grabbed your arm, his long fingers wrapping tightly around it like tentacles. He leaned in close, so close that his breath was fanning your face, and gritted through his perfect teeth, “You're going to be a Snow, Y/N, so you need to start acting like it. The first step is to let me give you friends that are worthy of the Snow name.”
Your heart raced and you felt fear bloom in your chest. You nodded at him, giving into his will.
Coriolanus smirked when you turned to your friend and told her you were going with Coriolanus.
You were his now. His, and he’s never letting go.
Tumblr media
Integrating yourself into the Snow family was easier said than done. First, you were stuck moving into their 12th floor Corso penthouse right away. Right away being mere days after the engagement was announced.
Your mother was so happy to be living in the grand penthouse, but you missed your old apartment.
At least your old, albeit smaller, apartment was warm and felt lived in. The Snow penthouse was cold and felt dead despite its large size and grand decor.
“Coriolanus, show your new sister to her room.” Crassus sternly ordered his son while standing in front of the fireplace in the main room, sipping tea.
Your mother and Grandma’am, Coriolanus’ grandmother, were sitting in chairs around a glass star shaped coffee table, sipping on tea and hot chocolate. Grandma'am was the one with the hot chocolate.
Grandma’am and your mother seemed to get along well, while Crassus didn't seem to care.
Hell, the general had a scowl on his face and looked a bit miserable.
You wondered if Coriolanus would grow up to be like his father since he already looked like him.
“Yes, father.” Coriolanus nodded. Grabbing your hand and leading you away from the adults, he said, “You'll be in Tigris' old room, little dove.”
“Who's Tigris?” You innocently asked.
“My cousin; she moved out into her own apartment not long ago.” He explained, dragging you down the hall.
You knew what Coriolanus truly meant. His cousin left after his father announced the engagement with your mother.
“My older brother just joined the peacekeepers, so it looks like we both had some family move out.”
Coriolanus stopped at a door, only to push it open and drag you inside of the room. “Mark my word, sweet stepsister, father will be pushing for your brother to take an officer's aptitude test as soon as he's eligible.”
“I don't see why, Rein's not his son.” You told the blonde as he let go of your hand and flipped on the light switch.
The room was spacious. The only furniture in it was a bed, a nightstand, and a desk with a chair. The bed linens were simple too.
The room felt more like a guestroom then a room that had once belonged to somebody in the Snow family.
Maybe it was the lack of personal decorations that made the room feel so lifeless?
But wasn't that to be expected considering Tigris has vacated the room; took any decorations and personal touches with her.
Coriolanus guided you over to the bed. “Not by blood, but as soon as our parents marry, your brother will be another son of Crassus Snow.” You both sat down on the soft mattress. You felt as if his blue eyes were studying you, taking you in like a fine piece of art, as he explained, “Being a part of the prestigious Snow family, Rein will have certain expectations to stand up to now, as do you.”
“I didn't sign up for this, Coriolanus.” You shook your head. Staring at a wall, you bitterly remarked, “My mother decided to marry Crassus, but I didn't know that meant I'd have to be some perfect, rich military brat.”
“Yes, well, we just have to make the best of our circumstances.” Coriolanus told you, his voice a bit crisp and tight. His large, pale hand heavily rested on your thigh. His face got dangerously close to yours, causing his breath to warm your skin. His icy eyes flashed with a fire as he smirked, “At least you have me to guide you, ensure that you're perfect.”
Your heart was racing wildly in your chest. Was your soon to be stepbrother coming on to you?
No. He couldn't be.
He couldn't.
Could he?
But before you could find out, Coriolanus was called by his father to help show the movers where to place your things.
Leaving you alone in your room with a million different thoughts swimming in your head.
Tumblr media
Not long after moving into the Snow penthouse, you were asked out on a date by Sejanus Plinth. He was very cute and sweet. Plus he came from a good family.
And you accepted, much to Coriolanus' horror.
Dinner that night was interesting, to say the least.
“But father, you can't let her go out with him. He's district.” Coriolanus protested after hearing Crassus approve of your date plans for the following night.
Grandma'am’s wrinkled face shook with worry. “Coriolanus is right, Crassus. The district boy might hurt her. He’s not Capitol blood; he's not civilized despite living amongst us.”
“Sejanus is a sweet boy. I’ve heard only good things about him from Mrs. Plinth.” Your mother smiled in between daintily eating her spoonful of soup.
Correction, not soup, but a tomato lobster cream bisque that was the first of 4 courses. Which also included a desert.
Yea, dinners were a lavish affair in the Snow household. But since Crassus had a cook on staff, you guess they could be.
Coriolanus’ jaw twitched at your mother's words. He felt that she was foolish for taking the words of a district woman to heart. That she shouldn't be encouraging you to go out with that dirty district dog just because his mother- no his ma, said he's a sweet boy.
He's district and anyone with a drop of district blood in them hated those born and bred in the Capitol. Even those who were district transplants that were allowed into the Capitol as a reward for making their fortunes from betraying the blood of their own couldn't be trusted. No, not when their blood wasn't pure, but was tainted.
Sejanus Plinth, although living in the Capitol and being from a filthy rich family, was and always will be a filthy, dirty blooded, district dog. He was undeserving of you. Infact, even a boy from the Capitol was undeserving of you.
Because you deserve nothing, but the best. You were a part of the Snow family, so only the best for you.
And that was him.
Coriolanus was the best. The only one worthy of you.
He knew it was taboo, forbidden even, but he didn't give a fuck.
Coriolanus was going to have you and his father approving of your date with that damn district born Plinth boy wasn't going to stop him.
General Snow reached for his goblet of wine, only to announce in a deep, authoritative tone, “I've given my approval of Y/N’s date with Sejanus Plinth, so all protests of it will stop.” Giving his son a hard look, Crassus cruelly remarked, “Coriolanus, son, perhaps you should find a girl to entertain yourself with instead of your studies. I wonder about you sometimes, if you even like girls at all.” An evil glint appeared in the light blonde general's cerulean eyes. “Perhaps you'd rather go out with the Plinth boy tomorrow night instead of sending Y/N.”
The room went deadly silent. One could hear a pin drop.
“Crassus…” Grandma’am shook her pearl encrusted turbin covered head at her son. Her blue eyes were full of disappointment.
Your mother didn't say a word, just kept eating her soup. If she felt bad, well she didn't show it. Her grey eyes were glued to her spoon, as if the liquid in it was the most fascinating thing she's ever seen.
Coriolanus flew up off his chair, causing it to loudly clatter to the floor, and stormed out of the dining room.
“Coriolanus!” You called out after him, rising from your own chair with the intention to follow after him.
You felt bad for Coriolanus, for what his father said at the supper table. It was uncalled for. It was disgusting and rude. He was trying to shame and embarrass his son, it wasn't right.
Before you could even make it an inch away from the table, your future stepfather rose from the table and rounded on you. Roughly grabbing your wrist, he coldly said, “Let him sulk like the weakling he is. Sit down, Y/N, and finish your first course.”
Everything inside of you screamed to listen to Crassus, to just sit down and eat that damn tomato-lobster bisque, but your need to run to Coriolanus, to make sure that he was alright, won out. You don't even know why, but you seemed drawn to your future stepbrother. You couldn't just abandon him to wallow in misery by himself.
You wretched your arm out of the general’s cold, tight hold. Looking up at him, you said, “I'm not hungry anymore, Crassus.”
“You'll address me as father now, you little brat.” Crassus ordered, towering over you. The imposing war hero looked ready to kill. It seems that nobody has ever stood up to him before, but always fell in line with his command.
You nodded and went to turn around, only for your ‘father’ to grab your wrist once more in a tight hold. His grip on your small wrist was so hard that you could feel the bones squeezing painfully together.
He twisted your arm behind your back, making your wrist flare as if it was on fire while the rest of your arm threatened to snap like a twig, and spin you around to look at the table.
Crassus' voice was deep and full of cruelty as he told you, “Take a good look at your soup, dearest daughter, because your serving will be given to the Avox.”
Your eyes looked at the table, but not at the soup. No, you looked at the pair of women seated at it. Silently, you begged them to help you. Sadly, they wouldn't.
No…
Your mother was too preoccupied with her bowl of soup, or maybe she was afraid of crossing her future husband. And Grandma'am, oh the elderly woman just gave her son a pitiful look, but wouldn't dare speak up against him.
“In fact, for your insubordination you'll starve tonight.” You heard your mother's fiance chuckle cold-heartedly.
Crassus shoved you to the side, causing you to hit the ground with a loud thud. The force of your side colliding with the hard marble floor knocked the wind out of you. So much so, that you didn't even hear the sound of large, loud footsteps hurrying over to you as you weakly pushed yourself up.
You felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm, but the touch was different than before. The long fingers weren't bruising around you, but surprisingly gentle with their lithe hold.
You felt yourself being lifted up to stand on your own two feet as Crassus seethed at his son, the one helping you, “Coriolanus, take that bitch with you and keep her all night. I don't want to see either one of your disrespectful faces until morning.”
Coriolanus’ eyes were full of icy hate as he curtly nodded at his father. Without a word, he ushered you away from the dining room.
Sadly, he'd have to teach you that General Crassus Snow likes his children to be seen and not heard. That he enjoyed slinging out biting, stinging remarks to cut down his children. That he was worse then the devil to deal with. That life could either be hell or something worse then hell with the Snow patriarch.
Coriolanus Snow would teach you how to navigate life under his father's roof because you're his.
Yes, your mother might be marrying his father, but nevertheless you are his and therefore he must protect you.
Tumblr media
“What did you do to make him lash out?” Coriolanus asked, sitting with you on his bed.
His room, you discovered, was sparsely decorated. Just like yours, all he had was a bed, a nightstand, a desk and chair. A couple of portraits hung on the walls, and a few trinkets were stacked on the window sill. Oh, and a couple of pictures frames and small items were on his desk, overlooking his school books and papers.
But, all in all, it felt as empty as your room did.
Damn…
This house was cold and empty, full of nothing but sorrow and hate it seemed.
And your mother willingly brought you here.
Fuck your life…
“I got up from the table to follow you; make sure that you were okay.” You honestly told Coriolanus, listening to the sound of his father yelling at your mother about how unmannered you were.
Oh, and they were still in the dining room.
Yea…
That's how loud Crassus was.
Biting your bottom lip, you looked at the boy with platinum curls that you were stuck with for the night, and told him, “Thank you for coming back and helping me, Coriolanus.”
Coriolanus tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Y/N, my darling, you belong to me. I'll always come back for you, help you when in danger.”
Before you could even ask him what he meant by belonging to him, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. It caught you off guard. You honestly weren't expecting his lips to be so lush, so soft. And you definitely weren't expecting him to kiss you.
He's going to be your stepbrother soon.
For Christ's sake!
He's going to be your stepbrother!
That revelation caused you to place your hands on his chest and gently push him away, while leaning your head back to break the one-sided kiss. You looked into his icy blue eyes, only to see something dark swimming in them.
Correction: not something dark, but lust.
“What's wrong, Y/N? Why did you push me away?” He asked, voice heavy with wonder. Lust blown baby blue eyes never leaving yours.
“You're going to be my stepbrother soon, Coriolanus. We can't kiss and stuff, it's not right.”
“Oh, darling, we're not blood related, so it's perfectly fine for us to kiss and to fuck.” Coriolanus assured you with a whisper in your ear. His breath was hot against your cheek as he confessed, “I've been watching you at the Academy for years, my little dove. Fucking my fist every night to fantasies of you and now that I have you with me, well, Y/N, I'm not ever letting you go.”
“You've liked me for that long?” You asked in bewilderment.
He couldn't have liked you for so many years, only to never make a move.
Could he?
It just didn't seem possible.
“Mhm…” Coriolanus hummed, only to nip at a spot right below your ear. “You've consumed my thoughts since we were 13, my darling rose.”
What? He's had a crush on you since you were 13?!
Like what?....
He's liked you for that long and never said a word? Never made a move, until now?
Wow…
“Corio-” You began, only for him to sigh and cut you off with, “Please, call me Coryo.”
Nodding, you turned your head slightly so you could look at him. “Coryo, you should've told me how you felt years ago.” Your eyes flickered to his hand, that had found its way on your thigh, and back up to his baby blues. “It's too late to do anything about it now. Our parents are getting married and I'm Sejanus' girlfriend now.”
Coriolanus did not like that remark. Oh no, he didn't like it one bit.
You're NOT Sejanus' girlfriend!
You're his girl, you belonged to him. Hell, you're part of the family now too.
His, his, his!
You're his and he's going to show you.
“You don't belong to him, Y/N. You’re mine.” Coryo darkly declared, only to kiss you.
He kissed you with so much fervor. He was a man possessed as his lips slid against yours. Kisses you as if you were the air he needed to breathe.
This time you didn't push him away. Instead, your lips moved against his. Your hands tightly fisted his shirt; pulling him closer as your lips clashes with his.
Coriolanus pushes you onto your back, causing you to let out a surprised gasp. He used your shock to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth.
His hand caressed the inside of your thigh as his tongue explored your mouth. Tasting you as if you're the sweetest treat.
Your hands ran up his chest and snaked around his neck as your tongue flickered against his, causing you both to moan. As your tongues began an intimate dance, his other hand found its way to your neck.
You pulled away slightly, catching your breath as your lips hovered close to his.
“Coryo.” You breathlessly moaned, feeling his long fingers brush against your soaking wet panties.
“You're so wet for me, darling.” He smugly told you. “You need me, don't you?” He asked, even though he knew that your entire being aches for him at this very moment.
Coryo wanted, no needed, to hear you tell him that you wanted him to fuck you dumb. That only he could take away the ache in your cunt.
Him, the very reason for your wet pussy.
“Coryo…we can't…” You weakly protested as your core aches with a fiery desire. One that you've never felt so fiercely before.
Or at least until now.
“We can, little dove.” He told you, using his fingers to slip your panties to the side. The air hitting your wet pussy causes you to shudder.
Your reaction has him smirking. Pulling your legs open wide for him, he announced in a dark, lustful tone, “I'm gonna fuck you and you're gonna like it, Y/N.”
Breaking eye contact with him as his hands ran over the insides of your spread thighs, you confessed, “I've never done this before, Coryo.”
“You’re a virgin.” Coriolanus stated, not asked. He knew you’ve never been fucked before. He would've known if you had since he stalked looked after you from afar for years.
“Yea…” You trailed off, blushing in embarrassment.
God, your skirt was bunched up and your legs were spread wide open, like a whore in heat, with your panties pushed aside exposing your dripping tight hole to your step brother. And here you were, blushing at having to confirm that you're a virgin.
Coryo took a sick pleasure in you being embarrassed about your innocence despite the wanton state he had you in.
“Don't worry, your stepbrother's going to change that.”
“God, Coryo, don't call yourself my stepbrother while my legs are spread for you. It's dirty.”
“And you're my dirty little slut because your cunt’s drooling and clenching around the air from my dirty words.” Coriolanus taunted as his hands rested on either side of your pussy, thumbs spreading open the lips to expose your tight dripping hole to him. “Oh, darling, you've got such a pretty pussy for me.” He cooed, dipping his head down between your spread legs
“Oh god…” You shakily moan, feeling Coryo lick a thick stripe up your cute with his hot, wet tongue.
You could feel him smirking against you before his tongue flickered your clit.
“Coryo.” You moaned as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it.
He smacked the inside of your thigh, only to lift his head away from your pussy and hiss, “Shut up, bitch. Don't wanna get caught, do we?”
“Sorry, it just felt really good.” You apologized, your voice tinted with need.
“You're forgiven, darling, but don't be loud again or else I won't prep you. I'll just fuck you face first in my pillow to muffle your screams and call it a night.” He told you, making new gush of wetness spill out of your pussy. “Oh, looks like me fucking you face first in the mattress turns you on, stepsister.” Coryo darkly chuckled, his breath hot against your aching core. “Don't worry, I'll do that to you, but not tonight. Tonight's your first time and I don't want to hurt my girl. I want to swallow your moans of pleasure, not muffle your moans of pain.” He told you before placing his mouth back on your dripping cunt.
“Mmmm….” You bite your lip, preventing your moan from being too loud, as Coriolanus sucked on your clit.
Your hands found their way into his platinum curls as his tongue teased your tight, wet hole. His thumbs let go of your pussy lips as his mouth latches onto your cunt, tongue messily lapping thru your folds. His hands grabbed onto your thighs, spreading them even wider.
Painfully wider.
But you couldn't help, but curl your toes into the mattress as his icy blue eyes pierced into your soul. He looked at you with such hunger as he messily ate you out.
It was as if he craved you; couldn't get enough of you.
As if he was starved and you're the only meal he's eaten in days.
Your hands tightened in his hair as you felt his tongue enter your hole, fucking you.
“Coryo…more…” You begged, for what you didn't quite know, as your chest began to heave up and down heavily.
Coriolanus knew exactly what you needed.
You needed your tight cunt filled and fucked.
And he was going to give you exactly what you needed.
He wrapped his lips around your clit sucking it harshly, as he slipped his middle finger into your pussy.
Coriolanus moaned at how tight your hole clenched around his long fingers. The tightness of your virgin cunt clenching around his digits had him rock hard and grinding into his mattress. Fuck, he couldn't wait to have his cock inside your tight pussy. Stretching it to its limit, making it fit around his large cock.
“Coryo…feels so good…” You panted as he fucked you with his finger while sucking on your clit.
He smirked against your clit, only to add his pointer finger into your cunt. He curled his long fingers up inside your slick walls, causing you to writhe in pleasure every time he hit that spongy spot deep inside of you.
“I-I think…” You trailed off, biting your lip to keep a moan from spilling out, as you felt pressure build up in your lower belly.
“You think you're gonna cum?” Coryo supplied for you, his breath hot on your cunt, as he began to piston his fingers deep inside of you. He knew you were close by how tight your cunt was squeezing his fingers. He couldn't wait until it was squeezing his cock.
“Yea.” You squeakily nodded.
“I want you to cum on my face like the little slut you are. Can you do that for me, darling?” Coriolanus told you, his voice raspy and thick with lust, before dipping his head back between your spread legs and sucking your clit.
“Please…make me cum, Coryo. Please, so close…” You begged, causing him to fuck his fingers up into furiously while sucking hard and fast on your clit.
He needed to taste your juices spilling out onto his chin, needed to feel your pussy tightening around his fingers. He craved it like the headmaster at the Academy craved a fix of morphling.
Your toes curled tightly in the sheets and your nails scratched Coryo's scalped as you came with the sound of his name on your lips.
He slowed his movements just enough to help you ride out your high. His tongue greedily lapped up every bit of your juices that came squirting out of your pussy.
Your hands fell out of his curls as you began to calm down from your high. You couldn't help, but smile at how messy his hair looked as a result of you pulling on it.
When Coryo pulled his fingers out of you and sat up, sucking them clean, you were horrified to see that his chin was glistening, that your juices were dripping down his chin and onto his neck. Your cheeks flushed red and you quickly sat up, trying to clean the wetness from his chin. “I'm so sorry, I-” You attempted to apologize, only to be cut off by Coryo chuckling, “Don't apologize, darling. You squirting all over my face turns me on.”
“Really?” You asked, eyes wide with shock.
“Really.” He nodded, grabbing your hand that you used to wipe his chin with. Bringing your palm up to your face, he huskily ordered, “Now taste yourself.”
You blinked, feeling your pussy begin to pool and ache again, only to obey Coryo’s command and lick his hand clean.
The taste of yourself was a bit sweet and tangy. It was also intoxicating.
Standing up and pulling you up with him, Coryo said, “We need to get undressed.”
“Okay.” You nodded, feeling a bit nervous despite having just had Coriolanus’ platinum blonde head between your legs mere moments ago.
You went to grab the hem of your dress, only to have Coryo bat your hands away and grab it himself. “Lift your arms up, darling.” You nodded and did what you were told. Quickly, he pulled your dress off and tossed it to the side. “Take your bra and panties off.” He instructed while quickly working to unbutton his shirt.
Coriolanus’ lust blown eyes were glued to you as you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. He felt his breath hitch as you took off your simple, white lace bra.
“Oh, little dove, your tits are perfect.” He cooed while removing his shirt and tossing it to the side.
You shook your head, only to look down at the floor and sigh, “No they're not, Coryo. You don't have to say that.”
Being nearly 18, you're self conscious about your boob size. Especially since you didn't seem to be as developed as the most popular girl in school. The girl that every boy (well, maybe not every boy since Coriolanus was half naked in his room with you) wanted to fuck. The perfect, pretty, popular, dirty blonde with jewel tone eyes.
Livia Cardew.
Coryo had just toed off his shoes and unbuckled his belt when your self doubt caused him to stop undressing. He closed the small space between you and reached his hands out to grab your tits.
You shyly bit your lip as he squeezed them. “Your tits are perfect because I say so, my darling.” Coriolanus huskily told you as the pad of his thumbs roughly ran over your nipples.
“But I'm not-” You began to protest, a feeble attempt at explaining your thoughts, only for Coryo to cut you off with, “Shut up, I told you that I think your tits are perfect.” He roughly squeezed them. “As long as I say they're perfect, little dove, then they are.” He declared before bending his head and taking one of your, now pebbled, nipples into your mouth.
The feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipples while his fingers tweaked your other one has you rubbing your thighs together, seeking friction to relieve that growing ache between your legs.
Letting go of your nipple with a wet pop, his lust filled blue eyes bore into yours as he orders, “Unzip and pull my pants off, Y/N.”
“Okay.” You nodded before doing as you're told with shaky hands, all the while Coryo was biting and nipping at a spot on your left boob.
You knew he was leaving a hickey there and, for some reason, it turned you on. The idea of him marking you as his made something flare up in you.
You've never had somebody want you before, but Coryo wants you so much that he's putting his mark on you. Staking his claim.
Coryo pulled his head up off your chest as his pants pooled around his long legs. Stepping out of them and kicking them to the side, he smirked, “You should take your panties off. But put your kitten heels back on, I want to fuck you in them.”
“Okay.” You nodded, pulling down your lace white panties while watching him pull off his socks.
You bent over and grabbed your shoes from the floor. Putting on your black kitten heels, your eyes popped out of your head as you watched him pull down his boxers only for his big cock to spring free and slap up against his lower stomach. You've never seen a cock before, but you knew his was big. It was long and girthy. Must be at least 8 inches, had veins on the underside and an angry red head that's tip was leaking precum.
You felt yourself gushing just from looking at it. Oh my God, how is that going to fit inside of your pussy.
“Don't worry, it'll fit.” Coryo assured you, a proud grin on his angular face.
What the hell? Did you say that out loud about him not being able to fit? Oh hell…you must've.
Taking your hand in his large one, he brought you over to the bed. “Lay down and spread your legs as wide as you can for me.” He instructed.
Nodding, you quickly laid on the bed and spread your legs for him. Your knees slightly bent, kitten heels slightly digging into the mattress.
“Fuck, your pussy’s so perfect.” Coriolanus swore while kneeling onto the bed, right between your shaking thighs. “Perfect and all mine.” He said while using his thumb to smear his precum around his cockhead. He began to give himself a few shallow pumps, to coat his cock with his precum, as you stared up at him with anticipation dancing in your eyes.
“You want me, Y/N?” Coriolanus asked, lining his dick up with your pussy. “Once I have you, take your virginity, I'm not letting you go.” He told you, teasing his cock thru your wet folds. “I fuck you and you're mine forever. You understand me, my darling rose?” He seriously asked, giving you a last minute opportunity to back out, as his dick bumped your clit.
Your hands held onto his shoulders as you looked him square in his icy blue eyes and confidently said, “Make me yours, Coryo. I want to be yours.”
That was the sweetest thing he ever heard. You begging him to make you his. Saying that you wanted to be his.
Coriolanus was in heaven.
He dipped his head down and captured your lips in a quick, but needy kiss before lining his tip up with your tight hole. He leaned his forehead against yours as he surged forward, pushing his length inside of your tight walls.
Your nails clawed at him and your eyes teared up at the stinging sensation of being stretched wide open on his large cock for the first time in your life. You bite your lip, swallowing back a cry, as your walls struggled to accommodate his large cock.
Coryo was about halfway in whenever he brushed away a stray tear rolling down your cheek. “You're taking me so well.” He praised. Kissing your cheek, he said, “Just a little bit more, Y/N. I know you can handle it. You cunt's made for my cock.”
“It stings, Coryo.” You gritted out, feeling him pop your cherry before sliding the rest on the way in and bottoming it.
“I know, it does. I know it does, darling.” The platinum blonde told you in a feeble attempt to soothe away your pain. With a proud smile, he pointed between you and said, “Look, a perfect fit.”
You looked down to see that he had disappeared inside of you; the only evidence of his cock being the outlining bulge in the bottom of your tummy. You ran your fingers over the outline in awe, causing your-hell you don't know what to call him right now except for Coryo, to shudder blissfully.
Bringing his large hand to cover yours as it traced over his bulge in your tummy, he proudly announced, “My cock’s deep up inside of your womb, darling.” Lacing your fingers with his, he pinned your hand onto the mattress and began slowly thrusting into you. “I'm gonna fuck my baby up into your womb. Show everyone that you belong to me.”
His words were like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head. The reality that you weren't on birth control and had your soon to be stepbrother's cock in your not so virginal pussy anymore had you slightly panicking.
“Coryo, you can't do that. You can't cum inside of me. I'm not on anything and our parents’ll be mad if-” You began to frantically ramble as Coryo fucked his cock slow, but deep inside of you, only for him to cut you off with a rough toned, “I don't give a fuck what those assholes think, Y/N. I'm 18 and soon you'll be 18, so they have no say over us fucking.”
You bit your lip, leaving out a mewl, as your felt his dick brush up against the spongy spot inside of you.
“Hell, come mid-summer we'll be graduating the Academy, so knocking you up won't interfere with your education cause there's only a handful of months left til the games and the graduation ceremony.”
“Coryo, were too young. Just, please, pull out before you cum.” You pleaded with innocent eyes.
Coryo couldn't grant you that. He couldn't do that for you. He's selfish and wants you all to himself. What better way to ensure that you stay with him then to baby trap you?
It's perfect, really.
Knock you up and you're stuck with him forever.
Nobody will ever want you let alone look twice at you once they see you're pregnant with his baby.
With your stepbrother's baby.
Oh, yes, knocking you up will make the perfect scandal that'll keep you two together forever.
Plus, Crassus won't want the shame of having a bastard grandchild, so he'll push for Coriolanus and you to marry in order to give the baby a legal name.
Sadly, Coryo underestimates how evil and cruel his father can be (even to his unborn grandchild). If he wasn't so pussydrunk, maybe Coryo would've realized that knocking you up would only enrage his father.
But he wasn't thinking clearly. He's pussydrunk and high on his obsessive love for you.
“I'm not pulling out, Y/N.” Coryo firmly told you. Speeding up his movements, he grunted, “Now stop whining and enjoy me fucking you.”
You didn't argue about the subject of him pulling out anymore, just nodded your head and let the feelings of pleasure wash over you.
Your breath hitched and you let out a mewl when Coryo's hands grabbed a hold of your legs and pressed them into your chest, causing them to rest on his shoulders as he began to thrust harder into you.
“Coryo…you feel even bigger…’ You muttered, the position change making him hit deeper inside of you.
“You like my big cock fucking splitting open your pussy, don't you? Fuck, your taking my cock like such a little cock slut, Y/N.” He darkly told you, lust tainting his voice, as you scratched his back and babbled his name.
“Coryo, please. I'm so close. So close…” You begged him to make you cum as your head got heavy, making you feel like you're underwater.
“I'll make you cum, darling. I'll make you cum right now on my cock.” Coryo told you, snaking his hand between your bodies only to roughly rub and pinch your puffy clit.
The feeling of his thumb roughly abusing your clit and his cock deeply plowing into your pussy has you clenching around him, cumming hard with his name on your tongue like a prayer.
Coryo fucked your thru the aftershocks of your second orgasm, only to sloppily speed up and chase his own release.
“I'm gonna cum inside your pussy and you're gonna take it all, Y/N. You're gonna drain my cock dry, little dove.” He told you as he felt his heavy balls, that were slapping relentlessly against your ass, tense up.
“Coryo, I think I'm gonna cum again.” You told him, feeling that warm fluttery feeling well up in your lower belly once more.
“Fuck, your creaming my cock like such a good little slut.” Coryo groaned at the sight of the white creamy ring you were leaving around the base of him. “Fuck…” He gasped, about to cum. “Cum with me, darling. Cum with me.” He demanded, his hips stuttering before he let out his release.
You came again once you felt his hot cum shoot up deep inside of you in thick ropes.
“Oh fuck…” Coryo panted, collapsing on top of you.
“Oh fuck…” You agreed with him, kicking your feet and causing your black kitten heels to go flying across the room.
Your legs limply slipped from his shoulders as your hands shakily carded thru his sweaty light blonde curls. All while his face nestled into your perfect tits. Coryo's softening cock was still nestled inside of you, but you didn't mind. The closeness felt nice.
Tumblr media
Your first time was amazing. It was nothing like the horror stories you heard other girls at the Academy gossip about. You were lucky that Coryo knew what he was doing. You felt wanted for the first time in your life after losing your virginity to him.
Coriolanus felt that fucking you was the best experience in his life. Honestly, it sure beats all those stupid quickies he had with dumb whores in the alley behind the club. He'd never tell you that tho.
No, you didn't need to know about his sexual past.
All that you needed to know was that you’re the only one that he wants. The only pussy that he’s getting his dick wet with for now on is yours.
You were cuddling in bed together, blankets pulled up around the both of you. Your head was resting in the crook of his neck as his long fingers raked thru your hair.
You felt happy in this moment, but you knew that it couldn't last. That it has to end. Your parents were getting married.
You could never be together, not truly.
You were going to be stepsiblings soon. Being together would be considered taboo.
Coryo could sense something was bothering you. “What's the matter, darling?” He asked, searching your eyes.
“We can't do this again, Coryo. Despite how we feel, it's taboo.” You told him, breaking eye contact with him because you didn't want to see his reaction.
“Y/N, I don't care what society thinks about us, our situation.” The platinum blonde spat. Lifting your chin up, so you had to look him in the eyes, he swore, “You're mine and I'm not giving you up. I'll kill anyone that tries to take you away from me, Y/N.” Coryo leaned in, kissing you on the lips. “It's us against the world, my darling rose. And you know what? Snow always lands on top.”
You were tired and didn't want to fight, so you decided to give in to him, to the man whose arms you were in. “Okay, us against the world then.” You smiled, eyes fluttering tiredly.
“One day when I'm the president and you're my first lady, nobody'll even remember that our parents decided to get married. And if they do, well, they won't be breathing for long to say anything about it.” You heard Coriolanus tell you while drifting off to sleep, warm and safe in his strong hold.
If only you knew how many people Coriolanus would kill in his lifetime, would you still stick by his side?
Probably, since he was ingrained in your soul once you gave him your precious gift that was your innocence- your virginity.
After all, you discovered quickly after becoming a part of the toxic Snow family that it truly was you and Coryo against the world.
Tumblr media
Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1
596 notes · View notes
imaginesmai · 1 year ago
Text
Right around the corner - Azriel (5)
AHHHHH this is the final part and let me tell you I'm SAD. It was so hard to write the ending you all deserve after all this love, so I tried my best. Let me know what you think! Also, you deserve A LOT, so I made it long hehehe. Don't worry, a request about the RATH universe is coming soon! If you want one too, drop it in my inbox!
(1), (2), (3), (4)
Plot: The story of how Azriel fixed what was broken, and how you forgave him.
Warnings: this is sad, but has a happy ending! Also, mental health issues.
No one expected the sidra to froze that year, and against everyone expectation, one day Velaris had woken up to see the riven covered by a silver layer. Children had missed school to skate in the solid surface, parents watching carefully from the edge. Some couples were skating too, holding hands and giggling endlessly.
You had been watching the new scene unfold all morning. And while you usually loved snow and ice as much as any child in town, you were starting to get a little sick of all the noise.
It wasn’t your new employee situation, who had been staring at the river all morning. She had already finished her duties, but always the polite and nice girl, Elain Archeron was keeping you company.
When you spotted for the third time the familiar red-head through the glass and she didn’t say anything, just sighed, you decided you had enough.
“You should tell him to get in before he freezes to death” you commented, still busy with measuring the ingredients.
“Oh, no” Elain blushed and looked away from the window. “No. He’s just… He can wait”
“He can, but doesn’t have to. You and Lucien should head out, rent ice skates and have a fun day. You already finished here” you smiled kindly at her, and before she could reply, you added. “I’m fine, I don’t even like cold weather. And I still need to finish this, which you can’t help me with. So, go”
Elain stared at you with uncertainty, and you tried to look as convinced as possible. Would you have liked her to stay? After all, she was one of the few people you socialized with these days. She had turned in when you opened the bakery again, right after you posted the sign about looking for a new partner.
And even if you had had your doubts when you discovered she was Feyre’s sister and Azriel’s friend, you considered her your own friend.
So, yeah, you would have liked her to stay. Because you were still awfully sad all the time, and her company was one of the few things that made your day better. But you being sad didn’t excuse her missing a wonderful day with her mate.
“It’s not closing time yet” her eyes danced between the glass and you. “He was supposed to wait for me at the house”
“Guess he’s too eager to see you. He’s been dancing around the bakery for a good hour” you chuckled. “Elain, I mean it. Go. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday”
“Y/N, I promise I don’t mind waiting. It’s not like it will unfreeze”
“And I promise I don’t mind at all. So, go, have fun and tell me about it on Monday” you gripped her hand softly over the counter, nodding to the waiting mal outside. “Come on, go”
Lucien was once more outside the bakery, the only visible part of him his red hair. He was covered in thick layers, but still managed to smile when Elain kissed your cheek and took her coat on the way out.
You didn’t have it in you to watch them be affectionate with each other, so you looked down at your task and decided it would be the last of the day.
It was hard watching all those couples walking hand in hand and remembering the feel of his warm, scarred hand in yours. To hear a man laughing and remember the unexpected laughs you dragged out of him sometimes. Even looking at the river was painful, because you could almost see the ghost of Azriel and you learning how to skate in a frozen lake in the Illyrian mountains a few years ago.
You had seen Azriel around a few times now, walking through your bakery and waving at you through the glass. Two times he had been waiting at the door when it was late at night, silently walking you home from afar without talking. Almost two months had passed by and your feelings were still as messed up as before.
Though you didn’t cry as much as before, and you were starting to get better, you still wondered.
If Azriel getting help would mean your relationship would be fixed, or if it was broken permanently. Deep in your thoughts, and used as you were to Azriel’s shadows, you didn’t notice how they tugged on your apron until the door sounded again.
Elain’s name didn’t leave your lips, because as soon as the door opened, you lost your breath.  As if you had summoned him, Azriel walked through the door, beautiful as ever. He wasn’t in his usual training leather, but winter clothes that fit him as a glove. Instantly, you noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were slumped and his body didn’t carry the usual grace of an Illyrian warrior.
“Hi”
His scarred hands, that had held you so many times and slaughtered so many enemies, were tucked in his coat’s pockets. You could feel the nervousness through the bond, the hesitance. Too stunned to answer, you only stared at him.
You had known that, eventually, he would talk to you. That you would have to do more than just wave at each other through the glass and stay silent when he sent you details through Elain. But still, you hadn’t expected it.
Unable to move, you only blinked.
“I saw Elain and Lucien heading out” he added, not looking away from you. “It’s a nice day outside”
Azriel hadn’t finished before one of his new shadows scaped his control, sneaking around the counter. The familiar ones, that had been by your side since he left, danced around the new intrusion. It lifted your apron, and crawled up your neck.
The cool feeling was the last of your worries, because no matter how much you willed yourself to say something, you couldn’t even tear your eyes from him.
The bond flickered between the two of you, once more. Knowing that it was one-sided, that he didn’t wear it like you did, made break your trance.
“She’s finished for the day” you explained, sounding way more confident that what you felt.
“It’s a nice day, yeah” he repeated, not giving you time to feel awkward before he continued “I thought that maybe you wanted to take a walk with me. It’s cold, but we could… get coffee. Or chocolate, if you want”
Azriel gave you a half, broken smile. Hearing his voice again made you take ten steps backward.
“I have things to do”
You looked down to your current task, which could be easily discarded. You had left much important things half-done because of him, and you would have done it normally without a second thoughts. But no matter how heartful the conversation at your door had been, you just knew you weren’t ready to have a conversation without getting angry.
You knew you weren’t ready to forgive him.
His new shadow gripped your wrist tightly before disappearing, and you heard Azriel’s doubt. He wanted to say something else, and you wanted too. Still, you fell back to your measuring and ignored the way your vision blurred, how your knees became weak again.
Maybe going back to your duties was the only way not to break down again.
The silence continued for a long minute. You couldn’t not feel his presence, the way his scent filled the bakery and made your stomach turn. Your heart recognized what you needed, what you wanted, and threatened to jump out of your chest.
Before you could regret your words, Azriel opened the door again.
“You’re forgetting the yeast” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
When you looked up again, he only smiled. You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, maybe to fuck off and never come again. You didn’t have time, because Azriel closed the door behind him and he was gone.
The first tear fell against the unformed dough, followed by many more. You wouldn’t be finishing the blueberry cake that afternoon, you realized, as you crunched behind the counter and cried.
-
There was a storm coming, and everyone in Velaris had had the same idea – run to the market, buy everything they needed for a few days, and crowd themselves at home with their loved ones. You were trying to follow the first part of the plan, not having anyone to go home anymore. And if that wasn’t enough reason to drag you down, the crowd was getting intense.
Velaris’ market was a beautiful place, full of shops and nice vendors. But that day, the space felt too small.
You already had a few bags with you, yet there were a few more to go. Wanting to finish as soon as possible, you had ignored the rational part of your brain and had gotten in the middle of the crowd. You had only managed to buy milk and pasta, and still had a long way to go.
After Azriel’s brief appearance, your life had been messier than before. He had come by the bakery at least five times more, always offering you some kind of plan you rejected. Going to the park, for a flight or to a coffee shop. Taking walks, watching the sunset or training together.
You lived now half-prepared to see him walking through your door again, and not having the heart to tell him no. You weren’t sure if that thought frightened or comforted you.
In your haste, you had almost forgotten to buy provisions for the storm, and had found yourself on the worst day to do them. Crowded, loud and suffocating, that was how you would describe the market at that moment.
The fact that most people ran with their children and family wasn’t helpful at all.
Most of the times, it was Azriel who did the last-minute shopping for you. He knew you didn’t like crowds, loud places, that you did best in your bakery where only five people were allowed at a time.
Another shove broke you down from your daydreaming, and you looked back to see a pregnant woman staring with her eyebrows furrowed.
“The line is moving” she spatted, pointing to the small space ahead of you. “If you don’t move with it, you should step out”
“Oh, no” you chuckled softly. You picked up the bags on the ground and took the two small steps that you were supposed to. “Sorry, I just thought I could take a little bit more space. It’s crowded here”
“I don’t mind crowds, so if you want to step back, let me get first. I’m in a hurry”
“Me too” you gave her a polite smile, mindful of her state.
The short distance that separated you from the customer on the front was certainly not enough, and she knew it. Still, she looked at you with disapproval. There were only five more people to go until it was your turn, you could buy your snacks and run to the next stall.
You thought you could ignore the glare at the back of your neck, and you did for a few minutes. Without meaning to, you thought how everything with Azriel was easier. Not only people wouldn’t dare to talk to him like that, but also, he assured you a good meter of distance between you two and the rest of the world with his wings.
The snacks on your hands almost fell when, not even two seconds after the man took three steps forward, you were shoved again.
That time, when you looked back, the woman was accompanied by her mate. His wings covered her from the people behind them.
“You should really step out of the line” she repeated. “You might have all the time in the word, but we are in a hurry”
“Me too. You can’t expect me to be glued to that man” you tried to explain, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He just moved”
“And you didn’t, which proves my point. Besides, it’s obvious you only have a few things. We have more”
“Which should be enough reason to let me go first, not only because I was here before you” you shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable when the male huffed a laugh. “Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t have come here today if you can’t wait in a line”
You weren’t a threat for the woman, and you were trying really hard to be polite and prove your point. Besides, being pregnant wasn’t an easy task, and you could tell she was far along. Maybe you should have let her pass, or maybe told her to fuck off.
But before you could argue further, something clicked in the male’s eyes, wide with recognition.
And you would have preferred for him to go full berserk mode on you. Because you recognized that look, you had been receiving them for a while now.
The male elbowed the woman’s side softly, pointing with his chin towards you. You didn’t have time to turn back and avoid the conversation, because he spoke.
“You’re the shadowsinger’s mate” he announced, loud enough to make a few heads turn.
“Oh” the woman finally connected the dots and lunged forward to grab your arm so tight you couldn’t shake her off. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry” you pushed your arm back, trying to let go.
While the woman apologized, you couldn’t help but listen to the whispers. The same ones you had heard in your bakery and through the streets. Some of them thrown in your face by rude or nosy customers that didn’t understand the concept of privacy, others by bystanders.
At the end, it was the woman who said it out loud, confirming what everyone in the small circle that had formed at the cue was wondering about. She finally let go of your arm and crossed hers in front of her body.
The look of pity wasn’t as bad as the confirmation.
“He rejected you, right?” it wasn’t a question, not when you didn’t answer and she continued. “We heard you’ve been mated for almost a century and he doesn’t want the bond. Is that true?”
It wasn’t true, but you didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, you turned around and used your wing-less privileges to sneak through the crowd. You kept your head down, as if that could stop you from hearing the comments or feeling the stares.
People had come up with an alternative version where Azriel and you had been mated for decades, for centuries. Where you had cheated on him or he had changed you for someone else. You had even heard that he had bonded with another person and had kicked you out of the house, and that you had been the one rejecting the bond.
Each version was farthest from the truth than the last one, but they all hurt the same. The crowd didn’t seem to get thinner no matter how deep you got in the market. Once the people who had heard the conversation were left behind, new people crowded you, worried about the girl panicking and running through the middle of the market.
There were a few occasions where you thought you would fall, where you tripped and almost embarrassed yourself farther. You had almost made it to the back entrance of the market when you finally realized you were tripping no more. There was no longer a crowd around you, nor whispers or hands reaching your way.
It took you another few steps to fully stop and assess the situation. When you looked back to see where the crowd was, you were met with a broad chest inches away from you. Through tearful eyes, you recognized Azriel’s wings tucking you away from people, his mere presence pushing them away.
You met his hazel eyes, full of worry and regret. His hair was longer, covering his brow, but you found comfort in his crooked nose, in his freckles, that you knew so well.
You noticed in his hands your bags that had been left in the stall, a new one with the snacks you were about to buy.
“What – what are you doing here?” you choked out, too grateful for the sudden moment of peace to wonder about anything else.
“I felt you through the bond, a few hours ago. Anxious and…” he stopped himself, his eyes scanning every tear that marked your cheeks. “I was just getting here when it got worse. I heard most of it. I’m –”
“Don’t say you’re sorry” you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault”
Out of the many things that were indeed his fault, people not minding their own business wasn’t his. You were used to him blaming himself for everything, from wars in other courts to people fighting in the street. The response came naturally.
Your nose was cold and runny, your hands frozen in your pockets, and your feet hurt. Besides all of that, you felt all wrong. Because you enjoyed his presence, because what they said, and because you couldn’t help but calm down when he was close.
Azriel didn’t say anything when you took the bags from his hands, thanking him quietly. He didn’t say anything as more people walked away from him, either because of his wings or because they recognized him.
“You don’t like last minute shopping”
It was a pointless observation, but it was better than to comment on how afraid he had been when, just outside the market, he felt the bond snap with urgence. His shadows knew where you were, and that you needed him, but even he had trouble running through crowds. Azriel also couldn’t talk about how mad he had been at everyone in that stall, how his new shadows had turned off every light and almost chocked them to death.
Azriel wanted to say that you were probably cold because you didn’t like your own coats, and most of the times wore one of his. He wanted to hug you, too, to feel you between his arms after what felt like an eternity and promise you that it would end well.
But he couldn’t say anything more than the obvious.
“I had to” you answered.
With a furious fist, frustrated at life, at him and at you, you brushed the tears off your cheeks. You could tell that he wanted to keep talking, and you did too. Since your last encounter, you had come up with more conversations you should have.
You stared at each other for what seemed forever. There were details that you had almost forgotten in your sorrow – like his long lashes, that you teased him about. Or the freckle that snuck up to the corner of his left eye. The way his mouth rose higher from the right, and the small scar on his ear from where Cassian dared him to wear an earring.
Only his face was enchanting enough to help you forget about the day, about the weight of your chest. It was the first closing call from the market, that sounded through the public speakers, that broke you away.
“I should go”
“I should go”
You talked at the same time, and you smiled softly when you pointed to different directions. You didn’t miss how his eyes fell to your mouth, how his own lifted up too.
“I could walk you back” he offered, not tearing his eyes away from your mouth. “If you let me”
You didn’t answer immediately. Those last words, that he had repeated so often lately, almost had you saying yes. You could almost imagine how it would go – him walking by your side, one of his wings behind your back. His elbow brushing yours, and his gaze fixed on you.
Your smile dropped when you remembered the times you had walked just like that, tucked together. The times you had waked by yourself through Velaris with his imprint on you, and the times he had left without a trace of your presence.
Azriel knew the answer before you said it, and his shoulders dropped slightly.
“Sorry”
That time, you decided to turn away before he could. Taking the back exit was a poor choice, knowing it was farther from your house than the main one, but you couldn’t picture yourself walking through the market without Azriel keeping the crowds a step away.
So you turned around, gripped your bags tight and didn’t tear your eyes from the ground during the whole way back.
-
It wasn’t Azriel who found you the time everything changed, but you.
The cold and winter were over, the streets were clean and the sun was out. It was a perfect day to spend outside, and Elain seemed fixed in throwing you out of your own shop. She claimed that the bags under your eyes were as dark as the night, and that your skin was so pale that she couldn’t tell the flour stains apart from it.
“Just for the record, you’re kicking the owner of the bakery out of the bakery” you stated, looking at her once more from the door. “You do realize that shouldn’t happen, right?”
“I’m helping a friend come out of her ghost-like season” she replied, still decorating muffins. “And you do realize that most shops close on Sunday’s, right?”
“Certainly not a bakery” you looked to the empty fountain at her right. “If we do it together, we will – “
“If you touch one single item of this bakery, I’m banning you from the kitchen for a month”
You doubted she meant it, she could. But still, you sighed and turned around to open the door. You weren’t an extrovert, certainly not an outsider. Since you were a child, you liked your kitchen, your house, and your space. And none of those things were outside the door.
But you actually feared what the fae you left behind would do if you turned back. Elain had already hidden your apron so you couldn’t put it on, and had threatened to mismatch the soy milk with normal one.
Giving her a last, tight smile through the glass, you walked towards the center of Velaris.
Not many people were outside that soon on a Sunday morning, but you were glad for her insistence the moment the sun kissed your face. The cold weather was disappearing and you could feel warmth across your cheeks. It was still cold, and it would be for at least another week, but the change in the weather promised a happy spring.
You walked aimlessly around Velaris, stopping to watch the Sidra move every now and then. Your feet carried you through unfamiliar streets, all of them filled with colors and smells. The longer you walked, the healthier you felt. Each step felt like a weight lifted from your chest, and you even smiled to a few usuals you found in the streets.
The main square peeked through the streets. It wasn’t your usual destination, too crowded and not as pretty as other parts of the town. But you still walked through it, feeling at ease and happy.
It had happened before, usually the days before you started your cycle, and you should have known the feeling of ease had nothing to do with the weather or the walk. It had happened and it happened again, just as you rounded a corner to walk in the square.
If, by any chance, Azriel hadn’t noticed you coming, the shadows that tugged him away from where he was standing would have made it obvious.
His eyes widened when he saw you, and you felt that peaceful feeling making its home for the day. There was no sorrow, no sadness, and none of the usual feelings that lately you felt when it came to him.
You cursed yourself stupid when you realized that you cycle was coming, and that every year you were in a mood until Azriel showed up, your hormones demanding your mate.
“Y/N”
Your name fell from your mouth and just by hearing it you noticed something different. It was new, and at the same time, you thought you recognized it somehow. You looked to his empty hands, to the syphons on his shoulders and chest and truth-teller on his side.
It looked like you had interrupted something important to him. But instead of running away from him like the last two times, you took a step closer.
“Are you going on a mission?” you pointed with your chin to his leather, eyes stopping at his chest. There was that thing, that you couldn’t name.
“Just came back. I was…”
Azriel looked to the building he just exited and for a moment, in silence. You had met a bunch of times since the incident in the market, and you had started having longer conversations. About the weather, about your bakery, and even about his family, who you finally knew officially.
Certainly, your relationship had improved, although it wasn’t just fixed yet. When he didn’t answer, you were reminded of all the times he had kept things to himself, either out of fear or doubt.
He seemed to doubt between telling you and keeping it to himself. Any other time, you knew, he would have kept it to himself. He had done it, in the past – when you asked him about his job, or tried to understand his past. Many times where he had evaded the truth or his emotions.
Your mood, that had been in a rush since you left the bakery, fell a little at his silence. He looked torn and you were ready to leave, before he answered.
“This is Madja’s house. I meet her here so we can talk, usually during the week” he looked back at you, watching the surprise of his statement. “But something happened and I needed to talk to her”
“What happened?”
Azriel’s lips were pressed tight, debating on whether he should tell you or not. He wouldn’t have doubted about it a year ago – he wouldn’t tell you, because in his eyes, it would only hurt you more than he already had. But he had learnt new things, and had realized that a relationship was built on trust. And that his fears, his perception of the reality, had broken yours.
He had cut the mission short when he had noticed, though he wasn’t sure he had ever done something like that. Azriel didn’t know what had triggered it, why it happened in the Winter court and not anytime sooner.
Madja, of course, had had an answer ready – an answer that had left him staring at her door for long twenty minutes before you appeared.
“Kallias should have sent something to Rhysand, but he didn’t” he started, not sure why he was traveling so far from the event. “So I went to check. Turns out someone must have taken it and, well, I tried to…”
He trailed off before he could finish, aware of your confusion. You never talked about what he did for Rhysand, in any court. No matter how big or small was the assignment, he didn’t tell you about it.
But that wasn’t what your confusion was about, at least not all of it. You couldn’t possibly notice because you had given it for granted since the beginning, but Azriel did notice. He noticed the change as soon as it happened, and babbled when he explained to Rhysand what he should have been feeling for years.
Had explained to Madja moments ago, who had given him a knowing smile and a proud nod.
“I accepted the bond” he confessed, continuing before you could say anything else. “I don’t know how, or why, but I was there and suddenly I was hit with – with this in my chest, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t happen sooner”
“You accepted the bond” you repeated, looking between his chest and face.
“I don’t know how, or why now. I was, thinking… And it hit me” Azriel smiled sadly, not saying what his thoughts were about – what they had been about since that night. “I didn’t want to tell you, because, this is, you don’t have to do anything now. Me accepting the bond doesn’t change what I did”
Azriel hadn’t meant to tell you, neither to be so vague and ridiculously nervous about it.
It had been a surprise when, in the middle of a conversation, he felt it. He had been thinking about you, because there were flowers and they were pretty against the cold weather, and to him, you were the prettiest thing the Cauldron had made. One moment Kallias had been going through the last movements of the package and the next the high lord was looking at him with raised brows.
Congratulating him for something that should have happened six years ago.
“It’s not that I didn’t want the bond before, Y/N” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise you, I didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know that I deserved it”
Azriel had thought, and he still wanted to, that you so pretty that you were meant for someone else. That it was borrowed time, that he didn’t deserve the bond just as he didn’t deserve you. With Madja and Rhys, they had had deep conversations about his mental health, about his version of life where he lived through a glass of pain and rejection.
As he stared at your surprised form, he tried not to let hope leak into his heart. He knew it didn’t fix what was broken, but he hoped it was the first step of a long recovery to win you back.
Only if you could confirm or deny, instead of stare at him.
“Say something” Azriel finally broke, almost begged. “Whatever you want. Just say something”
And you wanted to, because wasn’t that what you had wanted? You had fooled yourself lately thinking about may what ifs. What if he had accepted the bond in the bagging, what if he had told you that he wasn’t fine, that he was broken and needed help.
What if you had helped him and not rushed things when he wasn’t ready. Now, it felt like the Cauldron was giving you that opportunity, only that you didn’t know how to react.
You finally looked away from him and decided to give an experimental tug on the bond, to see if anything had changed.
It had.
“Az”
It was a chuckle, maybe the beginning of a cry. It was anger but also relief because what came back from that tug wasn’t what you usually felt. It was stronger, solid, as if there was a physical string between your bodies that kept you linked.
Usually, it was just an intense feeling that was enough for you. But now that you felt him tugging back, felt him loving you, you couldn’t hold back another laugh. He shoved down through it everything he felt – adoration, love, joy. Many fears that had you stumbling towards him, and pain.
So much pain that your smile dropped. His dropped too, and you felt the bond getting fainter.
“That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to feel… that” Azriel retreated the bond farther. “I have so many fears and pains here that I couldn’t even imagine sharing them with you. And that – “
“You don’t have to feel ashamed” you cut him off, your voice hoarse. “I love you the same”
Words were unnecessary when you hugged his middle and buried yourself in his chest. He curled around you, like he had done so many times.
The channel snapped open again, and you just closed your eyes tightly. It was an endless source of emotions, and it broke you that most of them were bad. There was rejection, from so many people that it felt like an angry, black bull coming your way. Sadness that felt overwhelming and never ending, always coming in waves when Azriel didn’t expect it.
You also felt disgust, and you only held him tighter when you discovered it was self-disgust. Not only at the things that he had done, but also at what had been done to him. The scars on his hands, the shadows around him. He had hated himself for so long he had forgotten how to love.
But then, at the bottom, there was something bright, and that part you realized it was only dedicated to you. There was his family too, but it wasn’t as intense as his love for you. Everything that he lacked during his life, that he yearned for, was tucked where it mattered the most.
“I love you” he whispered against your head, softly. “I love you”
You didn’t answer, just raised your head until you could brush your lips against him. Later, you would have time to blame the cycle, which you wouldn’t get for another two months, or the emotions of the moment. But you knew it was just what you needed, what you both deserved, when you felt him kissing back.
At the beginning, it was just his lips against yours, and it was enough. Your noses brushed each other, you got on your tiptoes and his wing cocooned both of you. His hands only pressed you tighter against his body when you moved your lips against his, brushing the edge of your tongue against his bottom one.
Azriel could barely keep himself straight when you silently asked for permission to open his mouth, which he happily obliged.  
From that moment, it was crashing. The kiss was only a physical proof of your feelings traveling through the mated bond, so wild and intense you couldn’t tell which one was his or yours.
“I’m sorry, darling” he whispered against your lips, giving you no time to reply. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for being a coward. I’m sorry”
“I forgive you. We don’t keep secrets anymore” you managed to say between kisses.
“Never” Azriel answered while leaving kisses on your cheeks and nose.”
“And we’ll talk about our emotions, and feelings. You’ll tell me about your life when I ask”
“Always”
“You won’t close off to me” you pulled his head away and made him look at you.
While you held his face between your hands, Azriel smiled. It was a different smile from the previous ones, from the ones you had seen so far. It was carefree, loving, and yours.
Your thumb brushed the corner of his eye, his upper cheek, the border of his nose.
“I’m here, Azriel. Always. So you don’t have to hide anything from me, or to be ashamed or afraid. I’m here” you closed the distance once more, controlling the kiss by holding onto his face. “Right around the corner”
“Right around the corner” he repeated, dipping his head and sealing all his promises with another kiss.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Right around the corner taglist:
@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @wallacewillow0773638 @clara-geekhime @kalulakunundrum @saltedcoffeescotch @originalcrusadetrash @mel-wcst @ailyr92 @bubybubsters @chickensrock3 @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @wallacewillow0773638 @just-m-2 @theravenphoenix26 @glitterypirateduck @a-frog-with-a-laptop @justdreamstars
837 notes · View notes
keikikait · 10 months ago
Text
ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)
word count: 2.6k
summary: you always wanted to be a teacher, even after discovering the jujutsu world. after graduating from kyoto jujutsu high, you decided to make your dreams a reality and teach at the sister school, tokyo jujutsu high. the only downside (and secret upside), is your teaching mentor, satoru gojo. what started as a few flirtatious glances turned into a full-blown relationship situationship. you were his, and he was yours, until he goes on a date.
warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst?, plot with basically no porn (i’m sorry), gojo is kind of an asshole & a tease, implied dom!gojo and sub!reader, nickname use [baby, pretty girl], no use of y/n  
a note: been sitting on this bad boy for a while and decided to finish it. more parts to come (eventually). also, the comment about flirty baristas is just for fluff, baristas don’t flirt with customers (source: i am one). also also, they say tokyo jujutsu high is on the outskirts of tokyo, but i wanted everything to be inside of tokyo so i just kinda guessed, whoops.
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
You were just his teaching assistant. Nothing more.
At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.
Secretly, you were his. After long hours, he would find solace in your arms as you lay in bed together. 
You weren’t dating by any means, although you wanted to. You understood why, it wouldn’t be a good look for you or Gojo if the higher-ups found out about you, but you both had an understanding. You were exclusive, just not publicly. You followed his rules, turning down dates and avoiding the flirtatious gazes of baristas or waiters.
You thought he would follow his own rules, too.
It was supposed to be a fun trip; a peaceful eight days of relaxing in Nikko before returning to school after the winter break ended. In reality, it was a week and some change stuck in a log cabin hunched over a desk grading papers, freezing from the cold. The gender-segregated cabins didn’t help. It was too cold to venture into Nikko during the day, a thick layer of snow covering the ground at all times no matter how much was shoveled. It was also, as Gojo had pointed out the day before making the trip, suspicious for the two of you to venture into the city alone. It was twice as hard to be away from him at night, you had gotten so accustomed to sleeping in his arms and hearing his soft snores in your ear. You were lonely.
You could see him, though. The men’s cabin was bigger and had a massive irori in the middle that heated the entire place. You sat with him as you graded and planned lessons, and his teasing touches left you aching. You were going on 8 days without his dick, and you were dying.
As you sit hunched over the desk, trying to make out what Yuji had written on his worksheet, Shoko bounds up to the table, sliding into a chair opposite Gojo. 
“Hey, Gojo,” she says. “Are you going to the winter festival when we get back?”
You tried not to react. You had begged him to go with you, but he always gave you the same excuse; it was suspicious.
He stretches his legs out a bit and smirks. “I was planning on stopping by. Why?”
Shoko smiles. “I have this friend, Himiko. She’s new to the city and was looking for a date for the festival. I’ve been telling her all about you, I honestly think you would be an amazing match. What do you say?”
You feel your heart drop to your stomach. Although you and Gojo had agreed to stay exclusive, you couldn’t ignore that he was Satoru Gojo. Everyone wanted him.
Gojo chuckles a little, adjusting his mask. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Is she cute?”
Shoko leans over the table and shows him Himiko’s social media while you keep your head down, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of you.
You keep grading, trying to focus on your work and not the feeling of your heart tearing in two. Gojo continues laughing and talking to Shoko, their conversation drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You wish you could ignore your jealousy, but it’s hard to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine at the thought of Gojo finding someone else, especially if he could go public with them.
You know his reputation; the ladies' man, the bachelor. The guy no one can catch. But you know the real Gojo, the one that stays over at your small apartment even though he has his own, bigger place. The one that cuddles you every morning and whines when you try to get up and get ready.
You don’t know this Gojo. You felt like strangers.
For the rest of the day, you kept to yourself, grading papers and reading books to try to drown out the thoughts. He isn’t even looking at you when you leave the men’s cabin and head back to your own. You and the rest of the staff leave Nikko tonight, and you have one more day of freedom back in Tokyo before the new term begins.
You pack up your stuff and wait outside the bus, shoving your suitcase into the undercarriage. A headcount is done before you all start piling onto the bus. You sit in the back, pressed up against the frost-covered window. Headphones in and music blaring, you only look up from your phone when you feel someone warm sit next to you.
You’re a little surprised when you look up to see Gojo getting comfortable next to you. He didn’t sit next to you on the ride to Nikko, he sat up at the front with Shoko and Akari, claiming it would be suspicious if you sat together. He leans closer, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Then he grabs your arm, moving your headphones out of your ear.
“Don’t wear these in public,” he says in a low voice, “Someone might grab you from behind and pull you into the crowd.” He leans into you and whispers, “I almost missed you sitting back here.”
You should be mad, but you can’t be. His smell fills your nostrils and you feel yourself succumbing to him. You smile softly. “You didn’t, though.”
"I didn't." He leans back and sighs, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his arms out. You enjoy the warmth coming from him, the way it spreads through you. "What do you want to do when we get back home? We can head out to a bar and grab a drink. Or we could go get some ramen from that place you like. Or we can just go back to your place and we can spend some…quality time together.”
You bite your lip a little. You’re normally a little feral when it comes to Gojo, but going without his touch for eight days has almost sent you into a frenzy. “I like the sound of that last one…”
Gojo laughs and squeezes your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. "And how bad do you want it?" He leans in closer until his face is inches away from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in the air. "How badly do you miss me, baby?"
You can hardly think straight. Your mind is telling you to push him off, to stay upset with him for accepting that date with Shoko’s friend, whatever her name was. But your heart, and more importantly your pussy, is telling you differently.
Your mouth feels like cotton, but you manage to say, “So badly, Gojo. I’ve been aching without you. These past eight days have been driving me crazy.”
Gojo chuckles and traces your chin with his fingers, leaning even closer as his face towers over yours. "You missed me, huh? My pretty girl didn’t do so good without me, did she?" He strokes your cheek gently, smiling as you lean into his touch, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Say it. Tell me what you've been wanting to tell me for the last eight days, what you didn't want to say in front of everyone."
The bus suddenly lurches and you remember where you are, on a cramped bus surrounded by your coworkers. You look around, nervous, hoping nobody caught you guys.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Gojo asks. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”
You do, nodding softly. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel him staring into your soul. “I am looking.”
“Then answer my question.” He says, dragging his thumb across your lips. You can hardly think straight already being this close to him, but the feeling of his thumb on your mouth is mind-numbing. 
“I missed you,” you whimper. It’s been a long eight days since you last felt his touch, since you last felt his breath on your skin. As he continues to stroke your lip with his thumb, you feel your mind melt away into a puddle. His touch is like a drug, and you’re desperate to not end this feeling.
“I know you have.” He coos, moving his hand down as someone up by the front gets up from their seat to change positions. He waits until they sit down before speaking again, “I’ve missed you too.”
You sink further into the seat, hoping no one looks towards the back. The bus ride isn’t super long, only about two and a half hours. Maybe no one would think to check on you two until you made it back to Tokyo.
He reaches over and turns your face towards him again. “But that’s not all, is it?” His thumb glides across your neck, his eyes under his mask flicking between your own and your lips. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. “What else have you been thinking about?”
You gulp, your mouth dry. "It's been so hard without you. It's hard to fall asleep...and I've barely gotten any sleep here because I stay up all night thinking about you."
"You have?" His eyes search your face as his thumb strokes the length of your neck. "I haven't had the best sleep either. I kept thinking about you, about how much I missed you. Thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you when I got back." He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking to your lips, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air. "You make it so hard for me to have self-control. Do you know how hard it is to jerk off with Masamichi and Kiyotaka nearby?"
You nod, understanding him completely. You had tried to touch yourself, too, hoping that your fingers would feel the same but it felt weird to do it with Shoko and Akari in the same cabin. “I know. I haven’t cum since we left Tokyo.”
He hears the soft whine in your voice and grins. "You’re so tempting," His breath washes over you as he whispers those words in your ear. His hands trail from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline. "Do you know what I want to do with you when we get to your place? What I'm thinking about doing to you right now?"
The bus takes a sharp turn going down the mountain and it snaps both of you back to reality for a second. 
You notice his hands still on you. Gojo notices too and grins, removing his hands with a sigh. He leans back into the seat. "Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I was a little carried away there." He chuckles. "We have a while before the bus arrives. I think maybe I should go to the front before I do anything stupid."
You go to protest but he’s already gone, striding to the front of the bus effortlessly as it rocks side to side, plopping himself next to Akari. You sit there, your body still feeling the heat of his hands, his words still ringing in your ears. You sink deeper into the seat as you try to calm down. You watch him for a while, seeing how he talks and laughs with Akari and Shoko and the way he never glances back toward you. 
You feel like a stranger to him, yet he’s the one who’s supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be together, even though your situation is less than ideal. The bus rocks back and forth, its engines humming quietly. You lean your head back against the seat, letting out a deep sigh. Your mind races, wondering how Gojo acts when you're not around. Did he only accept this date with Himiko to make Shoko happy? Why wasn't it ever you that made him happy?
You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you pull down the food tray and prop your phone up. You put on your favourite movie, hoping the familiar faces of the characters will distract you until you reach Tokyo. Occasionally you look up at him, hoping you’ll catch his eye before he goes back to his conversation but you don’t. He doesn’t look at you once.
The movie sucks you in like it has many times before. You don’t notice how fast time is moving, silver-tipped mountains giving way to serene towns and stretched farmland. It’s late, almost 1 am, and as soon as you feel yourself starting to fall asleep you feel the bus stop and hear the driver announce your arrival, right in front of Tokyo Jujutsu High.
You look over to see him already heading off of the bus with Shoko and Akari, heading in the direction of Kabukicho, laughing about an inside joke you’ll never be a part of. You grab your bag from the undercarriage and head to the train to head back to your apartment in Taito-Ku.
The train is packed full of tired salarymen and high school students, none of whom bother you. Your thoughts drift to Gojo as the train shakes and shudders its way back home. When the train finally reaches Taito-Ku’s station, you exit the train and head down the stairs, stepping out into the frozen city. You walk to your apartment and head inside, shutting the door to your small, solitary room.
You lie awake, hoping he’ll call you, or even show up at your front door drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time. The minutes turn into hours, your eyes shifting rapidly as you glance between your phone and the door. You start to wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him right now. And what he’s thinking. You glance at your clock. 2:57 AM.
You shouldn’t feel disappointed, but you do. He could’ve at least texted you and told you he would be out with his friends for the night instead of being curled up with you watching a cooking show. You’re his, but you’re not his girlfriend. He has no obligation to do anything with you, really, but you wish he would. You wish he cared enough to want to.
Your eyes glance back toward your phone and you hesitate. You mumble a curt fuck before picking it up and calling him. The phone is ice cold against your cheek as it rings. You wonder what your contact name is on his phone. Your name? Your name and a heart? Or is it just your number, unsaved?
He answers and you can hear faint music in the background. “Hey, baby.”
You smile a little, biting your lip. “Hi. I just wanted to see if you were coming over tonight.”
You hear him groan a little, but you don’t know if it’s out of annoyance with you or how late it is. “Yeah, I was planning on it. But uh, Shoko brought her friend tonight, Himiko. The one I’m going to the festival with.”
You nearly choke on your spit. The way he was so casual about his date with Himiko made you feel sick. “Oh, did she?”
“Yeah, baby. How are you though-” His words are interrupted by a female voice in the background begging for him to come back inside. “Uh, listen, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon, okay?”
“Okay, I-” The call ends, your phone beeping at you as he hangs up. You set your phone aside, face down, as you lay back on your bed. 
You feel ashamed as you cry. Gojo isn’t your boyfriend, and he has a reputation to uphold with his colleagues. You should be fine with it, but you aren’t, and it kills you. You bury your face in your pillow as you sob, hoping one day you and Gojo can stop being strangers.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
part two is here
622 notes · View notes