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#a little ooc but stick with me guys
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Just to kiss me (part 1)
Finnick Odair x reader
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(AO3 mirror)
Part 2, The Hunger Games masterlist
summary: You meet Finnick at a gala. He’s not what you expect.
warnings: none. Capitol!reader (this is not mindless hedonism, important to the plot), smoking (don't smoke kids, it's bad for you), reader is a year younger than Finnick, who is 21 here. 
a/n: wanted to see how many times I could break u guys into little tiny pieces. Part 1 to this series <3
required reading:
Wc: 2.3k
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Depollute me, pretty baby,
Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream,
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Under the chandeliers of the Great Hall, Finnick Odair is the sun.
Glittering as he waltzes between crowds of people; he is the centre of all attention. The flash of a smile there, a soft chuckle here, and it's enough to have the room hanging onto every word. He is honeysuckle and saccharine; stunning in his gilded suit; and it is all you can do to not stare.
You linger by the desserts table, in search of something edible. Piles of sickly sweet, oddly coloured food and yet none look like they wouldn't stab your throat on the way in. An ironic statement considering the company. Panem's most beautiful and wealthy all in one room; daggers behind their backs and expensive smiles. But you knew how it looked: the child of a senator refusing to make nice with the locals at her first gala. Half a dozen political players, actors, and the like had clawed over themselves to make a good impression with your mother - her vice-like grip around your arm. And every single one disappointed by the bumbling proctor she had thrown in her stead. You, dressed in a beautiful gown -  the latest in Cinna's collection - mimicking human interaction. None had the decency to even pretend to be interested. 
Growing tired of awkward, stumbling conversation, you had resorted to hiding; in the corner of the hall, with the half-eaten cakes, where the workers came to gossip. Conversation with twice as much substance than the rest of the room. That's when you see him. 
Finnick arrives late - of course he does - at  a lull in the night. From your vantage point, you see it all: elbows and whispers and manicured fingers dissecting his every move. When he shakes hands with a famous actress, the room erupts with: 'I wonder if they're dating? He's much too good for her…'. When he claps a hand on the back of a senator, good naturedly, they wonder: 'His ex? Have they made peace since the nasty breakup?'. 
He was an enigma, and to say you weren't intrigued was wrong. You were not strong enough to resist the media frenzy surrounding Finnick Odair, Victor of the 65th annual games: handsome with his cropped sandy hair, high cheekbones and boyish vigor, despite it all. 7 years ago, he had captured the nation with his beauty, and grace. 7 years ago, you had watched not much younger than him, queasy at the sight. Your disdain for the games had started with him, you had to admit begrudgingly: how could someone so beautiful be forced into doing such ugly things? At fourteen? And how could the nation watch in awe? 
You are brought back into the room by a sharp elbow at the ribs. A friend of yours; expectantly folds her arms in front of you. 
"You're staring." she says, with a toothy grin. "You said you were immune, and now you're staring…"
You roll your eyes at Vonnie, quick to stuff a prickly treat into your mouth. Quickly, you flash pink tongue at her. "He's so shiny it's practically blinding. Hard to ignore."
She tries not to laugh, reserved when a group of socialites walk past. As soon as they leave, she splutters, "They seem to be ignoring you quite easily…"
Yeah, no shit. The older girl taps her fingers on the table, nervously, like she had something to say. She's dressed in an explosion of fabric: pink and purple and patterned, with a dusting of gold. Her hair is similarly styled, haphazard but regal. On you, you know it would look a mess; but on her, she looks like the models on the cover of Panem Weekly - leggy and striking and beautiful. You sigh into more desserts. They melt almost immediately; a trace of sugar and daydreams on your tongue. 
"....do you think your mother would introduce us?" 
Your eyes grow wide. "No… no…Vonnie, I will not make a fool of myself in front of Finnick Odair-" 
"...but she would introduce us? Right? Right?" 
Opening your mouth in protest, she's too quick for you; hooking her arm into yours and leading (dragging) you into the crowd. She flashes her stunning smile every now and then, throwing polite greetings like grenades with complete accuracy. You're at your mother's feet in no time at all. 
A tight smile that doesn't reach her eyes. That's all she affords you before throwing you to the wolves. "-ah. Just the person I was looking for. Tell Minister Tragus about that outreach program you've been working on…" 
An expectant beat passes, and then another. And another. Vonnie cuts in. "W-well we've been swamped in paperwork as of late trying to get it off the ground! But, Senator, your daughter has been absolutely amazing, never a day off, and poring over the legislature for a gap in the system. She reminds me of you, in that way," she looks at you warmly, and you squeeze her arm with thanks. "-oh, my name is Vonnie Dulaire, Professor-"
"Professor Dulaire's daughter. Or at least, one of them." your mother finishes dryly. She looks around seemingly preoccupied, looking for someone. Not 50m from where you all stand, she catches the eye of a man, who waves. "If you'll excuse me," She bows out, with a nod. 
Hot on her heels, You and Vonnie follow. She stops momentarily, squinting accusingly at you. "You want something."
You stop to protest, but Vonnie interrupts. "Not want per se, but, uh, we were w-wondering if you had met Finnick… Mr Odair! And if you could… introduce us?" A quick nod behind her, and you try to back her up. 
Her face is contorted, with a slight twitch at her eyebrow that tells you she's pissed, and you would get an earful when you got home. That smile again. The one she reserves for the cameras, that doesn't quite meet her eyes. She's tight-lipped and leads you towards the man that waved to her not long ago. 
He's plump and jovial, with a handlebar mustache that curls up to the apples of his cheeks. Introducing himself as Finnick's manager, he stretches out a hand. You take it, and it's clammy with sweat. Vonnie is more outwardly enthusiastic, chattering about Finnick's most recent interview, and complimenting his style. She's good at making people feel at ease; conversation flowing like Panem’s finest ambrosia. 
Your mother is curt when she steps away. She grabs your arm, squeezing cruelly. Imperceptibly, she breathes, "This is your chance to make a good impression. How many times must I tell you, this is a part of the job: you go the events, you suck up, you make appearances. Vonnie, the ditz, for God's sake is showing you up!" She pauses to take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. From behind her flute, she continues.
"Everything I have done is for you. So you are not chained to a life with a husband you don't love and dithering children pawing at your skirt 24/7. Politics or no, you must play the game, my love-"
"I need some air." Your voice crackles. You don't look her in the eye as you walk away.
~~~
Away from the swirling lights, music and bustle, the night air is cool on your skin. You're on a balcony, tucked away from the gala, leaning over the edge with a small packed pipe in hand. It's the one thing about the ballgown you were grateful for; it's size made it easy to hide things in the tulle or the waistband. In your case, a beat up old pipe and lighter. You take a drag; and float on the moonlight that streams in. 
20 minutes go by and you're still not ready to go back in. 
The double doors open, to a man dressed in gold with his head in his hands. He slumps over the crowned railing and breathes in and out; erratic and shallow. Gentle sobs, barely audible. From this angle, he can't see you in the shadow by the balcony's side, but you can see him. Finnick Odair; in the gloom of the night. Not a god, not the sun. Just a man. 
The realisation of who he is makes you jump, and your lighter falls with a clatter. The man looks around just as startled. You fall to your knees, patting around for your lighter in the dark. Finnick does the same, crouching at your feet to help you find it. Ah! There, by your pooling dress, a gaudy thing of gold and pearl. He hands it you, your fingers brush and… you're embarrassed. When he stands up, he motions for you to grab his arm; ever the gentleman. 
Finnick gives you that smile; stunning and mischievous; but there's something about it that makes your heart sink. You'd know it from anywhere: the stony sheen of rehearsal, of strain - his body language completely different from a few seconds before. He stands straighter, with purpose, but it rings hollow. His eyes are still stinging from crying. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. 
Wordlessly, you offer him a pull from your pipe. He cracks slightly, smile falling, and nods. He's shaking, you notice, as he brings his plump lips to the tip of the pipe, and takes a slow drag. Almost immediately, he doubles over coughing, a palm steady on the railing. 
"D-don't… cough… laugh...coughcough…!".
"Is this your first time?" You can't help but giggle. 
"No…. Y-yes." He's laughing too now. A genuine, belly-filled laugh. 
"Look at what I do." You model a proper pull, breathing in with your chest, holding the smoke there and expelling. You tap at your breastbone. "You should feel it here. Now you try."
You hand it over, and he tries again. This time he only splutters. Not perfect, but better than last time. "You'll get the hang of it."  
In the silence that follows, he does, taking careful drags as you pass the pipe around. It's nice to have some quiet after the overstimulation of the gala. You feel like a teenager again; sneaking out to smoke with Vonnie, but with less of the mindless chatter. When you finish, you expect him to leave. After all, it's what you'd do. Leave and refuse to acknowledge the 5 minutes of peace on the balcony. To draw a line between himself and the random girl he's met by chance. 
But he doesn't. For some reason, he lingers, stealing a glance at you momentarily. Finally, he chews his lip and asks. 
"Why are you out here?" 
"Didn't realise you had a claim to this balcony. Have you marked your territory here or…?" You respond without missing a beat, purposefully staring down at the garden below. 
"You know that's not what I meant. I haven't seen you before, and here you are-" He chuckles. "-on my balcony."
"How do you know?" You meet his eyes; firm, resolute. 
"Hmm?" 
"How do you know you haven't met me before? Maybe I bumped into you on the ballroom floor, or at the buffet?" 
"I remember everyone at these things. It's always the same. Trust me, if we'd met, I would remember you."
"There's always a million people here…"
"And I remember them all." He breathes, a little wistfully. You didn't realise someone so young could even be wistful. 
"That must suck. Every nosy reporter and suck-up? Every politician and creepy little shit-stirrer?" Oh. She's funny, he thinks. And not funny in the tight-lipped, fill-the-silence-with-small-talk way. Unabashedly, genuinely, funny. 
"Yes. Every creepy little shit-stirrer." He repeats. Your words taste different in his tongue. Good different. "Thought I'd already met all the spoilt little rich girls, though." 
You feign shock, and clutch the necklace at your chest. "You wound me, you really do."
Conversation is effortless with him, lazy in the haze of moonlight that wraps around you both. Shamefully, you didn't think he would be all that smart; too beautiful to have a use for sharp wit and humor. Perhaps the talk shows and television were rotting your brain; he was wonderfully perceptive and you almost struggled to keep up with his pace. Almost. 
And so you talked. About anything and everything. What he had for breakfast, the newest music, the weather, the hidden intricacies of capitol life. All the while, tiptoeing around the reality of the situation: that he was the Finnick Odair, perhaps the most sought after man in all of Panem. That he came here to cry on a balcony - clearly, running away from something. To be fair to the man, you wouldn't think it; he was humble and gracious, laughing with a serf like you easily. Fleetingly, you forget yourself, only reminded when the willowy light cut his face just so; handsome, beautiful; and you were blinded by the sun. 
You talk until your throat aches and your legs are sore. Behind you, the gala winds down. Again, Finnick seems reluctant to leave, to break the spell you are both under. A normal conversation. A weight off his shoulders; if only for a moment. A natural lull in conversation, and you're skittish, suddenly aware of the time.
"I should go." You say softly. 
"I should too, suppose." He looks a little sad, resigned to a small smile. 
"Good luck." You nod and walk towards the door. He stops you, clasping a hand in yours. You're looking at each other, and all you can feel is his palm in yours. It's a little rougher than expected, and warm, dwarfing yours. The feeling tethers you to him. 
"Good luck." He nods, squeezing your hand. He is doe-eyed and gorgeous in the widowed light. Stepping closer, he opens the door. Finnick Odair lets go and clicks down the hallway, leaving you with a pain in your chest and that feeling on your palm. He flexes his hand as he walks away. 
He doesn't look back.
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silvyslayer42 · 3 months
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here’s an idea: what if the “anti-aging” device that kuusuke made was originally an attempt at finding a way to slow down or even reverse the uncontrollable growth of kusuo’s powers?
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sensesdialed · 11 months
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can i talk about how much being around other spider people would mean to peter after he's been so incredibly lonely post-nwh. can i talk about it
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cisnestars · 10 months
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low quality, polygonal cloud strife runs directly at u (full speed zzznnnnooommmm) -- wyd 🤨
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godblooded · 1 year
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holy fuck i forgot what absolute assholes people are on ovw competitive. i love getting blamed for tanking when my healers aren’t doing jackshit.
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autism-corner · 1 year
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Booby levi =w=
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the tattoo she has is my pact mark, a little snakey =w= (rough pact mark below cut)
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reference i used
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timewontwait · 1 year
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small reminder that this sonic is heavily based on the adventure --- unleashed era of sonic (including sonic x, as well as bits and bats from the archie comics + AOSTH). it was the era i grew up on, so naturally it’s what i think of when it comes to writing him. and his voice claim is jason griffith! but i do really enjoy ryan’s sonic a lot, too. i especially liked that the sonic & tails R podcast demonstrated his take on sonic without all the loud blasting music the old games he was in typically had dfjkds. but yeah... jason’s sonic is what i think of whenever i write dialogue for this guy. 
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its-rach-writes · 1 month
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Cinnamon and Art Galleries - Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Your friend, Emily brings a cute stranger to your art exhibition.
Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, probably ooc Spencer
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this! This was my first time writing for Spencer so he's probably out of character but please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx
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You smiled as you drew the cat in the hot chocolate foam and handed it to the little girl on the other side of the counter with her mom. It melted your heart when her face lit up and she waved at you as her mom steered her out of the café. It was slow in your café today but you didn’t mind, you used the time to set up for the beginner art class you were going to be teaching on Saturday.
“Hey girl,” you glanced up when the bell rang and your friend Emily walked in.
You smiled when you saw her and gave her a wave. She was the first friend you had made when you moved to DC.
“Hey,” you smiled, “having the usual?”
“Please,” she grinned.
You got to work, making her one black coffee, the other was a milky coffee with a shot of cinnamon syrup. You knew that Emily drank the black coffee so you couldn’t help but wonder who the overly sweet coffee was for. You carefully selected the cinnamon roll with the most frosting and slid it into a bag, being careful to not let it stick to the paper bag.
“I believe congratulations are in order,” Emily started and you scoffed with a laugh.
As soon as you found out your art was going to be featured in an exhibition, Emily was the first person you told, “the team are coming to see it.”
You raised an eyebrow, secretly you were grateful, “FBI Agents don’t have anything better to do?”
She laughed, “not tonight, I even managed to talk the good Dr into coming.”
“The elusive Spencer Reid?” you rested your hip against the counter as you handed her the coffees, “how did you manage that?” from what Emily had told you, it didn’t seem like Spencer Reid liked social situations.
“I’ve got killer interrogation skills,” she smirked, “he’s cute too.”
You internally groaned, yours and Emily’s definition of ‘cute’ were very different, for all you knew Spencer Reid was an aging Professor, “as long as you don’t try and set us up, like you tried with me and Morgan.”
“No promises,” she laughed as she backed out of the café, “I’ll see you tonight.”
Later that night, you were sipping champagne as people perused your exhibition, your paintings were both inspired by Pre-Raphaelite art and the King Arthur legends. You noticed a man was standing at your painting of the Knights of the Round Table, so you walked over and decided to strike up a conversation.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” his lips twitched into a small smile as he looked down at you with gorgeous deep brown eyes, “you’re the artist right?” when you nodded, he looked back at the painting, “you’re really good.”
“Thanks, I love Pre-Raphaelite art.”
“Did you know that the Pre-Raphaelites were a secret society of young artists, founded in London in 1848? They were opposed to the Royal Academy’s promotion of the ideal as exemplified in the work of Raphael,” he blurted this out like he’d memorised it from a textbook and you worked hard to conceal a laugh.
“I did know that,” you giggled.
“Right of course,” he flushed, “of course you knew that.”
Something struck a memory, something that Emily had told you, “wait, are you Spencer Reid?” he looked at you with slightly wary eyes before nodding and you smiled, “I’m Y/N, Emily has told me so much about you.”
“It’s all lies,” he joked and glanced over his shoulder, “she’s making the most of the bar right now.”
You laughed as you looked over too and she waved, lifting up a glass in a motion of cheers. When she had said Spencer was cute, it was an understatement, he was young and gorgeous.
“Are you interested in art?” you asked as you sipped your champagne.
Spencer nodded, “I like looking at it, I’m afraid I’m not very artistic.”
“And here, we thought you were perfect,” you heard a chuckle from over your shoulder and you turned to see Derek Morgan and the rest of the BAU, Morgan pulled you into a hug, “congratulations sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” you smiled as you pulled away and looked at the others, “thank you for coming.”
It was a great night and you were grateful for everyone that came but soon, you were starting to get overwhelmed so you went out onto the balcony for a cigarette. Though it seemed as though someone else had beaten you to it. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over his shoulder and smiled at you.
“Hey, you want some company?”
“Sure,” he smiled.
There was comfortable silence for a while as both of you looked over at the lights of DC, your cigarette smoke curling in the air. Soon enough, Spencer spoke up.
“So what do you do? Is art your full time thing?”
“I own the café by the library, but I’m integrating art into the café, I’m teaching a beginner class at the weekend from there.”
“No way! Seriously?” he smiled, looking animated, “your coffee is so good and your cinnamon rolls? Amazing.”
You laughed, “Emily gets the cinnamon roll with the most frosting for you?”
“Yeah,” he flushed, he opened his mouth to say something else when he was interrupted by Aaron Hotchner.
“Reid, we just got called in,” he glanced at you, an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“No, it’s okay,” you smiled when Spencer pushed himself off the railing, “it was really nice to meet you Spencer.”
He flushed and offered you a shy smile, “it was nice to meet you too, I’ll see you soon?”
You nodded and Emily pulled you into a tight hug, whispering in your ear, “I’ll make sure he sees you soon,” you laughed, shaking your head as she pulled away.
On Saturday, you were setting up for the art class when you heard the tinkle of the bell and you glanced up. None other than Spencer Reid was standing in the open doorway, the sun like a halo around his head.
“Thought you might need a hand.”
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aerahyasashi · 18 days
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yandere satosugu x female reader? can you do jealousy headcanons (like what makes them jealous and/or what they do when they get jealous)? sorry if that wasn’t specific enough!
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╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere behavior (duh) murder, possessiveness, gore. (Ooc maybe) satoru being an oa little shit. Poly relationship.
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╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Satosugu x Fem! Reader
╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHAHAHA i didn’t knew if you wanted it to be separate or not anon, you said satosugu so i immediately assumed that it was a threesome. But heree, some hc’s:33 sorry pookie, i got lazy on suguru’s part:< SJAKEKSKA i did this first cause hc’s are the easiest to write💀💀💀
Masterlist
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🔪Satoru struggles with pervasive jealousy issues, particularly when it comes to you and Suguru.
🔪This dude is like the embodiment of jealousy. he’s so envious he’s practically green with it. Hell he’s even jealous of himself. There was this one time he bet he could pull off dressing up as a girl for a dare, and oh boy, did he go all out. But then he got all pouty when you gushed all over him and got all touchy, something that you don’t really do often. And his reason of getting jealous with himself? He thought that you prefer him as a girl, like hello? you were supposed to prefer the original satoru and not his genderbent!
🔪But seriously, this guy’s jealousy knows no bounds. If Suguru flashes a flirty grin at someone else, bam, jealousy strikes. And if you dare compliment another soul? Jealousy overload. You hugged another man that isn’t suguru? He’s trying to force himself not to throw hands. This dude craves all the attention, all the affection, like a toddler hoarding toys in a playgroup. He’s aware he’s selfish, probably knows it’s not the best look, but he’s powerless against the possessiveness that overtakes him when it comes to you and Suguru. You both have this unique power to bring out the best and worst in him, after all, you two were the only one who sees him as “Satoru” and not as the “Strongest.”
🔪Satoru’s neurotic tendencies and jealousy issues stemmed from his messed-up childhood. The poor guy got stripped of his carefree youth and was thrust into the adult world way before his time after all. the jealousy bug bit him hard when he saw other kids having the time of their lives, while he was stuck with grown-ups fawning over him and expecting way too much and pressuring him. That childhood envy stuck to him like glue, and it grew into a full-blown mess when you, him, and Suguru became an item.
🔪The thing that grinds Satoru’s gears the most and the absolute worst, is when you and Suguru says something about other people’s eyes like; “Their eyes is so pretty” Blah, blah, blah, bullshit like that. It kills him inside that you don’t shower the same love on his eyes. His eyes are prettier, more powerful, and literally very unique, and you hardly ever mention how beautiful it is.
🔪Satoru absolutely loathes it when you’re completely oblivious to someone flirting with you. He’ll shoot menacing glares at the culprit when you’re not paying attention, as if daring them to keep it up, and he would end up threatening them.
🔪Satoru doesn’t bother in hiding his emotions, he’ll whimper, pout, and stick to you and Suguru like glue. And would play the melodramatic card, guilt tripping you. Or he’ll just straight up threaten you or tell suguru about how naughty you are.
🔪🔪🔪
Satoru’s head rested delicately upon your lap as your dexterous fingers ran through his snow white tresses. He gazed at you upward, sky blue eyes peeking from beneath his snowy eyelashes.
“Can you give me your phone for a minute baby? I just wanna do something”
Without pause for consideration, you obliged his request and gave the phone into his outstretched hand.
“Yeah, sure, here.” You responded with a hum.
“What are you gonna do with it, anyways?” You questioned, before your eyes widened as you saw how satoru’s digits hastened across the interface, focused intently on blocking specific contacts from further reaching your line.
“Huh, ‘Toru, what the hell?”
“Wait—why are you blocking them? Those are my—” Your words faded as Satoru lifted his head from your lap and moves away from you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours as he gently grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb.
“Why do you always insist on conversing with them, hmm? Do you like them?”
“What— no! It’s not like that, what the fuck?”
“If you really love me and Suguru, then you have to sever ties with that girl/guy and keep your distance, okay?”
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🔪Suguru really isn’t the jealous type, because he’s all about trust and loyalty when it comes to you and Satoru—He trusts you two.
🔪But, every now and then, a feeling of jealousy creep up inside him when he sees you and Satoru hanging out and having fun without him. He tries to brush it off though, understanding that you two are really close. He just wants to see his pretty lovers smiling, or at least that’s what he tells himself.
🔪When Suguru starts feeling jealous, it’s not a pretty sight. Beneath that kind and laid-back exterior lies a man who doesn’t really forgive that much. Suguru doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.
🔪Suguru may be a master at concealing his jealousy, but when it does surface, it’s like a storm crashing down. Picture this: you innocently text someone he’s really jealous of, and before you know it, your phone is pulled from your hands and tossed across the room while he summons a cursed spirit to destroy it completely, only to be replaced with a brand-new one moments later. Oh, and that person you were casually chatting with? It’s either you can consider them ghosted or consider them dead.
🔪Mentioning your ex around him was a big no-no. Because it immediately triggers him. can’t you just keep the spotlight on him and Satoru? One tiny mention of your ex’s name or Satoru reminiscing about his past flings, and Suguru’s mood immediately becomes sour.
🔪In stark comparison to Satoru, Suguru remains nonchalant about compliments being thrown around. He’s all for lifting people up until those compliments take a flirtatious turn. If that line is crossed, however, his cursed spirits will have its new meal.
🔪If Suguru was jealous and it led to an argument between you two, he would turn on his ultimate weapon—the silent treatment. He’d nonchalantly start hanging out with other people, making sure you noticed just to annoy you and make you jealous. He was well aware of his petty tendencies, but deep down, he simply wished for you to drop the bratty act and apologize.
🔪If you don’t really apologize and just pushed him over the edge... Well, you’ll have to say goodbye to your sanity because suguru is brutal as fuck when it comes to giving punishment.
🔪Unlike Satoru, who would guilt trip and manipulate you, Suguru would take it up a notch on the intensity scale. He wouldn’t shy away from using violence after all. And that doesn’t only apply to the person that he’s envious of, that applies to you too, and satoru. But that’s the difference, Satoru is a good boy, and you’re not.
🔪Suguru would be more than glad to kill someone in front of you and force you to watch it after all. He’ll hurt you too if you thrash and scream instead of being a good girl.
And you can’t really escape the both of them, after all, their love is like a noose.♡
🔪🔪🔪
Suguru’s hand forcefully clamped over your quivering lips, stifling any cries that tried to escape. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh with an iron grip, rendering you immobile. The metallic tang of blood invaded your nostrils. Your eyes were wide with terror, pupils shrinking, and your pulse quickening. A sickening view of gore played out before your horrified gaze, crimson splattering the walls, each nauseating squelch echoing through the room.
“I told you to stay away from them and you didn’t listen...” Suguru whispers, his breath hot against your neck, his delicate mouth parting to suck hard upon your pulsing skin, his mouth works its way slowly along your skin. And you shudder involuntarily beneath his touch, fear coursing through you as his lips close around a patch of flesh, sucking hard.
“See...? This is what happens when you disobey.”
The sharp prick of his teeth sends bolts of pain ricocheting through your body. Your already unsettled stomach lurches violently at the sight that greets you as you raise your head, struggling against his grip.
Before you, bound fast to a wooden chair, was the friend you had jokingly flirted with. Tears stream unchecked down their pallid cheeks, mingling with traces of dried blood, as their cries continue to ring in your ears.
Every limb was callously severed, Their bones was protruding out—the metacarpal bones, the carpal bones, the humerus, the ulna, the fibula, and other bones,  Their arms and legs are covered in long, vivid scarlet lines that are three inches wide, intersecting each other in a crisscross pattern and the wounds appear to have breached the surface of their skin, While suguru’s cursed spirits feeds on their severed flesh.
With a low, self-satisfied hum, Satoru drags the tip of the scalpel upwards your friend’s cheek, cutting them and the skin opens, revealing their inner facial muscle. He then reaches out to grasp a fistful of your friend’s hair, yanking their head back sharply to force clouded eyes up to meet your own.
“Suguruuuu, what do i do next? Do we gouge their eyes out for looking at our pretty girl that way?” 
“Do it. She said that she likes their eyes anyways... She’s probably implying that she prefers their eyes over yours.” Suguru smirks, humming as he pressed his body against yours, enjoying the way satoru’s face suddenly fell.
“Haah... Looks like i’ll be enjoying gouging their eyes then.”
464 notes · View notes
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Lip Gloss (Lucifer x Reader Drabble)
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A/N: I was inspired to write this based on this Hello Kitty apple flavored lip gloss that I saw yesterday. I was tempted to buy it lol. Also I'm just getting back into writing, so it may be a bit choppy teehee
Warnings: Slightly sexual, the use of the word apple way too many times...Lucifer may be a little ooc?
If there was one thing that Lucifer loved, it was ducks. But if there was a second thing that Lucifer absolutely adored, it would be apples. Since you have known Lucifer, he has always been obsessed with integrating apples in your daily lives. From his coat that he wears everyday down to the small engravings in the wood framing of your shared bed, apples were everywhere. All of his favorite foods consisted of some type of apple, whether it be apple fritters or apple pie. He had apple themed pajamas, apple themed silverware, apple themed pillows even. The man was completely obsessed. 
So that’s why you should not have been surprised with your current situation. Pressed up against the wall with hands pinned above your head, you were face to face with Lucifer. His pupils resembled a solar eclipse, strands of his platinum blond hair sticking up wildly. 
Both of you guys were supposed to have met with Charlie and Vaggie for a nice dinner at Ozzie’s thirty minutes ago. While getting ready you had complimented your look with a new apple flavored lip gloss that you had gotten out of amusement a few days prior. With as affectionate Lucifer was, you knew that he would like the new addition, but you were unaware of how feral it would make him. 
Just as you were heading out, Lucifer brought you in for a sweet kiss; it was something he did on autopilot, a small display of his endless love; however, once his lips tasted the crisp apple flavor, he almost melted. 
Thus, your wall predicament. 
“Your lips taste like apples…” Lucifer mumbled, his voice making the statement almost sound like a question. His gaze was focused on your now smudged lips. 
“I-I, well…I bought it f-from that new store and it was cute, and I know how much you love apples b-but I didn’t think…” Your stuttering trailed off as a smirk stretched across his porcelain skin, his tongue peaking through and wiping away the remnants of the gloss on his lips.
You tried to look away from the sinful eroticism on display, face completely flushed. “Shouldn’t we, um, go? We’re already-” 
But before you could finish your thought, Lucifer had pressed his lips to yours. The grip he had over your hands tightened as he nibbled your bottom lip, the apple flavored gloss long lost.
You were fully consumed, bodies ablaze as you leaned in impossibly close to him. While Lucifer had a long list of talents and skills, his ability to make you feel alive despite your dwindling breath, to erase the past and future and tethering you distinctly to the present, had to be one of his greatest. It was just you. It was just him. 
A small whimper escaped his throat as your hands escaped from his grasp, finding purchase in his hair. His hands shakily roamed your body, leaving a trail of electricity that caused a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter in your lower regions. 
As Lucifer pulled away - eyes dilated and jacket crinkled - he looked dazed, the same way he appeared in the early mornings. The smirk that was thickly painted on his face was replaced with a goofy smile. 
How dare this man steal your breath away and look so innocent afterwards? 
“Oh golly, we're going to be late! We needed to be there 40 minutes ago!” Lucifer exclaimed as he looked at his wrist. 
You patted yourself down, trying to smooth down your hair and fix your also wrinkled clothes. “It’s almost as if I tried telling you that 10 minutes ago” You teased. 
Lucifer laughed as he lightly reached for your hand. “Well, I mean, did you really expect me to contain myself when your lips tasted that good?” 
534 notes · View notes
matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
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Vox x Reader Headcanons: Fiancé Edition
Fiancé!Vox x gn!Reader
A/N: MY BRAINROT IS BRAINROTTING OKAY I JUST NEEDED TO DUMP THIS STUFF SOMEWHERE AFTER SEEING ALL THE WIFEY ALASTOR AND LUCIFER STUFF- LIKE I LOVE THOSE TWO BUT LEMME YEET IN MY BELOVED SAMSUNG TV NOW YALL- THIS COULD MOST LIKELY BE OOC COMPARED TO CANON BUT LIKE- LET ME DREAM I WANT THIS FLATSCREEN SO BAD P L E A A A S E-
A/N: This little thingy would have both an SFW and NSFW portion, mostly because I'm a depraved little shit and I am downbad for a 7ft bipedal television with issues-
SFW HEADCANONS:
Now first off, y'all probably would've been dating a long long while before this mans would pop the question.
I feel like he'd know that he wants to marry you, but he's so unsure of it plus he's concerned about how that would affect you in all of it.
Like, oh great if this gets out suddenly you've got one of the biggest targets on your back because you're the technology overlord's fiance and soon to be wife/husband.
As if you hadn't already when you both started dating-
Vox is a perfectionist so I'd imagine he would try so so hard to get everything completely flawless for his proposal.
But nothing goes his way that day, none, nada, zilch-
That's just his luck, totally not because it got screwed over by a certain radio demon for shits and giggles.
But he ends up asking you anyway, though a bit indirectly because it slips during his irritated rant.
"I can't believe they managed to spill wine all over me back there! All over one of my best suits as well!"
"Hun, we could always send your suit to the professional cleaners. It's okay! We can always just go someplace else next time too-"
"No! That- ugh! I had all these plans today and they were just ruined! I wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for when I was going to propose to you-"
"You were gonna what-"
Vox immediately shut up once he realized his screwup then.
So much for keeping it a surprise!
That's kind of how you ended up with a diamond ring on your finger that night.
And that's how Vox ended that really stressful day with an extremely satisfying night.
He ditched work the next day and just spent it being all over you.
Yes he admires the ring on your hand from time to time, this man just stares.
You can betcho ass that ring is expensive as fuck too.
Like as if this man didn't kiss your hands enough, that new accessory marking a new chapter of your afterlives just makes him do it more.
He's actually kinda housewife material if you squint-
This man can cook and clean, and as a bonus he's filthy stinkin RICH.
Bro I need me one of these holy shit-
If he wasn't clingy enough before, oh boy get ready for this.
He will always have an appendage on you at all times, a hand on your lower back, your hip, in your hand-
Or he'd just have you in his lap while he worked on stuff in his office.
Also, Vox being possessive as all hell if someone so much as just stared at you too long-
Please that goes straight up to 1000% when you agreed to wear that ring.
You guys planning to get hitched doesn't stay secret for too long though.
With Valentino and Velvette sticking their noses in Vox's business as a daily pastime anyhow-
Hence why a lot of sinners started shipping you two.
And oh goodness the ship wars.
Sometimes Vox wishes the internet wasn't really connected to his brain-
The magazines went wild with that one too-
Cuz imagine, the richest and the pride ring's probably most esteemed bachelor-
Aside from Lucifer probably, Vox's marketing and PR team are insanely good at their jobs-
Was now off the market and due to get hitched with you.
I'd imagine even if Vox doesn't post anything on social media, you or Vel would-
Literally like those married couples on TikTok or something with a whole bunch of cute shit.
You can best believe the most cracked out shit happens while you're both engaged though.
"Oh this is Vox, he's my ex-boyfriend."
"... You have got to stop saying that. I'm their fiancé."
You did not stop saying that.
Actually you wouldn't stop saying that even when his title upgraded to husband.
Not that Vox cares, your shenanigans were what caused him to gravitate towards you in the first place.
And until now they're what keep your relationship fun and interesting.
"Hey hubby, ooooh~ you're looking like the hottest thing in all of the pride ring despite having just rolled out of bed."
"Hahaha, good morning to you too doll."
It doesn't register what you called him at first until he's had his coffee and then it clicks.
You play it off attempting to be coy until he replays the video of you greeting and calling him that on his face.
His. Face.
Sneaky little shit that's what-
He doesn't really respond to any other petname now, you've dug your grave.
"Vox."
"Vox."
"Vooooooxxxx-"
"What? What?? What do you want???"
"Can you peel this orange for me?"
"Really? That's it? Why don't you peel it yourself?"
"Because it tastes better when you do it?"
He does it eventually, hell if he's in a particularly good mood he'll even feed you.
That's always kind of how it goes when you ask him for things.
If it's something you want/can buy though?
You're already in possession of his credit card, just get whatever tf you want HAHAHAHA-
He's still a busy bastard though so it's not really much different from how it's like when you guys were dating-
But he genuinely tries to balance his work a little better to spend more time with you.
This man is such a workaholic though you end up having to drag his ass out of his office to rest anyway.
Again, nothing new from when you were just dating.
You guys jokingly throw around your soon to be marital titles in private.
Vox kind of feels like a kid in a candy store when you do, just giddy and excited for what's to come.
Not to mention he now has a partner in crime when he riffs on Alastor!
He'd be over the MOON if you just joined his chaos.
The radio demon probably wouldn't give a shit, he's just built different like that-
You both get so comfortable that you almost forget that you have a wedding to plan and set a date for.
Until Velvette asks about it and you're both just: "Oh. Right."
Your fiancé's schedule is so fucking packed though it was nearly impossible to.
This guy was going to work himself to death before you could tie the knot lmao-
But eventually you both got a date and venue settled, so that was one step closer.
NSFW HEADCANONS:
Okay so like, I know sinners can't actually copulate unless you're Lucifer but that's besides the point-
And Vox isn't really a family man at all-
But boy oh boy if he didn't have it before-
This man would have an insane breeding kink after you both got engaged.
This man wants to see you stuffed.
Literally doesn't matter if you're riding him or he's just impaling you on his cock-
This guy just wants to fill you up so bad.
I'd also think that you guys would be screwing around a lot more often after he popped the question-
Something about emotions constantly running high and dopamine being one hell of a drug.
I think Vox is a switch, so I'd also imagine he'd be more inclined to let you dom him every now and then.
Or when he just wants to be a bratty little shit please go ahead and tame him, he likes it.
You can kind of get away with more stuff when you're both engaged.
Like tease him a whole ton and he just bites hook, line and sinker.
It's already gotten to the point where the power in the tower would die often enough that Velvette herself has gone through some crazy lengths to cockblock her colleague.
Speaking of, Vox would probably use you as a stress reliever after work if you let him-
Like he will just fuck you stupid until all you say is his name because this guy is addicted to hearing it.
Or he'd let you fuck him stupid until he's so far into sub space he forgets about his shitty day.
Cuz if it's rough, it's rough with you two.
But on the gentler side-
It's just as addicting and if not probably a little worse.
Though you would probably be the one taking initiative/domming whenever you both have gentle rounds.
I'm all for Vox being able to switch some of his parts cuz he wanted to/can.
So y'all have fucking choices when it comes to wrecking this idiot.
Like a multiple choice exam, literally shotgun the fuck outta those answers like you deteriorate his mental.
And consequently the entire city's power grid.
"GODDAMNIT! VOX! (Y/N)! NOT AGAIN!!"
553 notes · View notes
caelivir · 3 months
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red lips, dying for a kiss | rayne ames
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— synopsis. in which rayne discovers that red lip combos are his weakness.
— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader
— genres. university au, friends-ish to lovers, rayne has a little bit of a crush
— word count. 2.3k
— warnings. very brief violence mention in the beginning, alcohol consumption (rayne and reader are 21 in this), making out (i tried to keep it brief), ooc rayne but he’s kinda drunk so
— notes. breaking theme for this one but it’s okay. i wanted to drop this on valentine’s day… clearly that didn’t work out. also as i go to post this hidden lights reached 1k notes which is absolutely insane to think of. thank you for giving it so much love. anyway, happy 100 followers! thanks for sticking with me. enjoy!
dedicated to all the rayne girlies. i pray we find (or already have) a man like him. ♡
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ryoh’s parties are always a bad idea. rayne can’t count the number of times something has gone wrong. cops show up. someone locks every single bathroom from the inside. a dumbass jumps off the roof and into the pool. any incident you could think of has probably happened. the last one rayne went to nearly got him screwed over when he fought against a guy picking on his brother, and it was not pretty (for the other guy) to say the least.
from that moment on, rayne had made the decision to never attend another one of ryoh’s parties. it doesn’t matter who begged him or what the circumstances were. no one was going to change his mind on that.
unfortunately, ryoh grantz would not have that. it took three days and a two hundred dollar bribe to convince rayne to go because who would he be if not taking advantage of the rich.
so that’s where he finds himself now, standing in a circle with his friends as music blasts in ryoh’s mansion. they talk about who knows what as rayne wishes he could go home. he has to see it out though because this would be the easiest two hundred dollars he would ever make.
his second red solo cup of the night is filled with some unknown (but surprisingly delicious) concoction that sits untouched. he swirls the cup around in his hand, his eyes darting around the room for an escape.
rayne chugs his entire drink down, setting the empty cup on the first surface he finds before mumbling an excuse of having to use the bathroom, not caring whether his friends heard it or not. he stops by the kitchen to rummage through a cooler, skin freezing as he digs through the ice. he finds two cans of a beer brand that he likes.
he weaves through the crowd in the living room, trying his best to not bump into anyone or spill any drinks because the last thing he needs is another altercation.
unfortunately for him, life always has a curveball in store for him.
“hey, look! (y/n)’s here!” someone had yelled, causing people to push closer towards the front door. the flow carries him closer despite his protests.
the half blonde finds you easily. it’s hard to miss your bright smile, even in a room surrounded by dozens. a crowd surrounds you and your group of friends. they greet you with hellos, offer drinks, and fight for your attention. you try your best to address everyone as you and your friends inch closer to the dance floor.
rayne knows you. your friend groups overlap often so he was bound to meet you at one point. you're popular around campus, known for your friendly nature, kind acts, and most of all, you're known for your beauty. he hears about a new attempt to gain your affection almost weekly. you never seem to accept them for some odd reason. it doesn't matter who it is. the d1 basketball prodigy? the rich girl in your philosophy class? they'd be rejected all the same. your lack of care for relationships has sparked up rumors, but even those never seem to faze you.
as for his opinion on you, rayne acutally likes you, which is a rare feat considering that the half-blonde cannot stand the presence of most people. but in this case, he likes you. he has the smallest of crushes that he wouldn't dare to admit to anyone except his brother, maybe.
in the times your paths had crossed, you had been an easy person to be around, never doing anything to irritate him and always trying to include him in every conversation and activity. it makes him feel all warm inside. the thought of it brings the ghost of a smile onto his face.
he also can't deny that you are indeed one of the most beautiful people that he's ever come across. you would have to be a fool to try and deny that. it's a little shallow on his part to like you partly for your looks, but he can't help it when your smile has the power to blind angels.
"rayne?" your head tilts, surprise written all over your face. he locates two shots in your hands. "woah, i'm surprised you're here! people said you wouldn't come to these anymore!"
rayne is barely to pick up the sound of your voice over all the music. "got paid to be here." he speaks loudly, avoiding yelling as much as he can.
"well, that's one way to get someone to come to a party." you giggle.
it's at this point where rayne closely inspects your face. his eyes are immediately drawn to your lips, colored in a combination of reds. he's never seen it on you before, and paired with the rest of the makeup on your face, it stands out, commands attention.
and it looks… really fucking good. rayne takes the sight of you in fully. yeah, you look really fucking good tonight. the half-blonde gulps, forcing his eyes back up to your face.
"take this with me!" you urge rayne, holding out a plastic shot glass to him.
unwilling to bring himself to say no to you, rayne sighs, accepting it. the two of you raise your glasses up in a silent toast before pressing the plastic to his lips, tilting his head back, and letting the alcohol slide down his throat. it burns. it tastes horrid on his tastebuds. the half-blonde scrunches his nose in disgust, and you take the empty glass from him, how you went unbothered by such a disgusting beverage is beyond him.
as much as rayne wishes he could be with you, he desperately longs to find someplace quiet. the bass of the music pounds against his head. "i'll see you around, (y/n). have fun tonight. be safe." rayne says.
"oh okay. see you rayne." you frown, but maybe that's just the lighting messing with him. he swears there's disappointment laced in your voice, but that could also just be the alcohol playing games with him.
rayne makes his way upstairs. he prays that he won't barge into people having sex. luckily for him, it's still early, and the room that he chooses, the one at the very end of the hall, is empty. he relaxes the moment he locks the door as if a weight was being lifted off him.
the half-blonde sets his unopened beers onto the nightstand and lies on the made bed. he stares at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, contemplating his life choices. his thoughts drift to you and your gorgeous lips, but he’s quick to dismiss them. when he’s finished with that, he cracks open his first beer, leaving a ring of condensation on the nightstand, and opens up his phone.
the next hour or so is spent watching compilations of bunnies and sipping on his beers. it’s perfectly fine like this. save for the bass of the music bouncing against the walls, it’s peaceful. he feels the effects of the alcohol he drank humming in his veins. it puts him into a lighter mood. however, that peace is disturbed when there’s a loud pounding on the door.
“what the hell?” rayne mumbles under his breath. did someone confuse this room for the bathroom? the half-blonde pulls himself out of bed, unlocks the door, and cracks it open just a little bit to see who it is.
“rayne, is that you? oh my god, please let me in.” you beg, clasping your hands together in prayer.
confused, but without any complaint, he allows you into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it.
you practically collapse on the edge of the bed, and rayne can sense that something is amiss.
“are you alright?” he asks cautiously, standing a foot away from you.
“do you ever just get sick of people?” you ponder suddenly, shooting to sit straight up.
“sure.” rayne shrugs, still unmoving from his spot.
“you can’t tell anyone i told you this,” you point at him with narrowed eyes, voice slurred. “swear you won’t.”
“i won’t.”
“good.” you nod. “as i was saying, i get so sick of people sometimes. being popular is fucking exhausting. i don’t know how much longer i can keep up with this. i swear i can’t enjoy things on my own time without people barging in or commenting on it.
“i can’t sit on a couch to catch my breath without people wanting to talk to me. not that that’s bad of course, i love talking to people, but christ, just back up a bit. like can’t they just take a hint and realize that i don’t want to talk? do you get that?”
rayne nods. “must be rough.”
“it is,” you groan and then sigh, standing up to dust off your clothes. you stumble from dizziness after having gotten up too fast. however, you shake the feeling out. “sorry, i shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you. that was a stupid thing to complain about.”
“no, it wasn’t.” rayne argues. “people who are always in your space are fucking annoying. i would know so there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.” at this point, he could tell the alcohol is doing its number on him, making him more vocal and bold.
“do i annoy you, rayne?” you ask, eyelashes batting at him, this innocent worry behind your eyes. it drives him mad.
“no.” he says sternly, inching closer, his gaze falling to your crimson lips. that damn red lipstick. he wonders what would happen if he were to mess it up. what would happen if he were to ruin that precise lining of color? what you let him cross that line? in his tipsy state of mind, he wants to find out.
“are you sure? because i know whenever we see each other i kinda cling to you, but if that bothers you, just let me know. really it’s no-” you ramble before rayne cuts you off.
“i want to kiss you.” the half-blonde mutters. his eyes stare deep into your own. your eyebrows raise in shock.
"huh?"
"i want" rayne's hand flexes at his side as he exhales, resisting the urge to touch you. "to kiss you."
"why?" you whisper so quietly that he almost didn't hear you.
maybe this is a reckless decision. maybe he shouldn't be risking a friendship with a drunken mind, but honestly in the moment, he really couldn't care less. he can regret it in the morning if things fell apart.
"i like you." rayne admits.
a moment of silence falls onto the room. you stare and stare, sinking your eyes deep into rayne’s as his confession weighs further down onto you.
“oh thank god.” you exhale, pulling rayne in by his shirt.
rayne practically melts into the feeling of your lips, soft against his own. he can taste faint traces of alcohol on you. he places his hands on your hips to press your bodies together. his palms explore your figure, circling around your lower back, trailing upwards to your ribs and back down to your waist. your hands entangle themselves in his hair, eliciting a soft groan out of him.
kissing you is a feeling like no other. it’s straight euphoria, maybe even something greater than that. the butterflies flap violently on his stomach. fireworks ignite his blood. being with you is like soaring across the sky.
you deepen the kiss, exploring each other with such desperation that it makes you dizzy. his tongue moves against yours in perfect sync, as if it were a choreographed dance. by the time you pull away to catch air, you and rayne are breathless, huffing as the half-blonde rests his forehead against yours.
you beautiful red lipstick is now smeared across your mouth, staining at the corners and below the chin. rayne pulls his head back. his fingers graze over your lips, admiring the mess. he’s sure it transferred onto him as well.
“you got something right there.” you joke, pointing at him.
“shut up.” he whispers. however, a smile breaks out onto his face, betraying his words.
“so,” you say, snaking your arms around the half-blonde’s waist. “the rayne ames has a crush on me? i never thought i’d see the day.”
he hums as confirmation. “would i be wrong to guess that you like me too?”
“no.” you grin. “in fact, you’d be one hundred percent right.”
“wonderful.” he mutters, leaning in for another kiss. you turn your head, having him miss your mouth entirely.
“i’m starting to believe you only like me so you could have a make out partner.” you tease, causing the half-blonde to sigh at your antics.
“i like you because you’re kind.”
he pecks one cheek.
“because you’re fun.”
he pecks the other.
“because you’re intelligent.”
he presses his stained lips to your forehead.
“because you’re so beautiful.”
rayne kisses the tip of your nose.
“my beautiful, (y/n).” he mumbles with a barely noticeable slur, cupping your face.
“you should drink more often. i like this side of you.” you comment, looking up at him with a gaze that drives him crazy.
“please just let me kiss you again.” rayne quietly begs, his mouth centimeters from yours.
“kiss me whenever you want.” you whisper before colliding with him once more.
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in the morning, ryoh has to pick the lock to get into the guest bedroom. he stumbles in pissed off and ready to blow up on the person who dared to put him through such a hassle.
however, the sight he walks into flips his mood instantly. ryoh finds you and rayne tangled in each other’s arms completely knocked out. upon closer inspection, he notes the matching lipstick stains on both of your mouths, and a knowing smirk spreads across his face.
the blonde man pulls out his phone, snapping pictures in different angles to solidify this moment in history.
“he better thank me for this.” ryoh says to himself before walking out and shutting the door behind him.
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645 notes · View notes
cocobirde · 5 months
Text
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 | JOHN DORY
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request. @Striped_Scheme on wattpad Requesting a JD x Reader where they've been dating since BroZone days but he kinda just left her with no goodbye and tries to reconcile and convince them to come help and save Floyd lol ("Technically we never really broke up"☝🤓) word count. 2.2k warnings. the word fuck lol. timeline. pre-trolls trilogy, pre-trolls band together. song. baby it's cold outside with some slight alterations (tell me he wouldnt. i DAREEE you.) a/n. honestly. idea was good, but my writing was not it so apologies but love u... thanks for reading lolz... probably rushed... (i do that alot in my writing how to not rush help me) no doubt ooc characters, characters will always be ooc.
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"He's gone? What do you mean gone?"
Floyd could sense your distress. Panicked voice squeaking and your eyes darting all over the small backstage area for your boyfriend, on how exactly he could've left without you catching him.
You were in front of the stage, courtesy of being the partner of a band member, which was amazing but also granted limited viewing if they went too far back. From what you did see, the expressions were a solemn mixture of embarrassment, anger, disappointment.
You barely paid attention to the fans, who were also attempting to go in the same direction as you. Getting caught up in them took a whole lot of convincing the security.
But still, you were just at the door, and you heard him through it. Where had he gone? Was he okay? He fell from a very tall place in front of a crowd of fans, which was probably more damaging to him compared to actually getting injured—but not for you.
You watched him stumble backstage, stumble.
Baby Branch hid behind Floyd, wrapping the little leaf-sewn vest around his body, looking from his older brother to you, worried.
Where's the rest of the band?
"He just left. Everyone did. The band's..." Floyd paused, sighing, "BroZone's over."
You stood confused, your brows furrowing at his words. Over? How could they be over? This was just the start of their world tour. The band couldn't just break up over one failure.
"Over?"
They weren't that fragile, were they?
You loved all the brothers; they were like your own family, but your worries were set on only one of them for the time being.
"Did J at least say where he was going?"
Floyd nodded his head but remained unsure of what your thoughts would be on his answer. He glanced down at baby Branch, who was huddled around his leg.
"He was upset, really upset," he explained. "Said he was going to go hiking to the Neverglades... alone."
The change in your face told him everything, and he was quick to extend his hands in front of him. "But John Dory always says crazy things like that, and he never goes through with them. I'm sure he probably just went up to The Point."
That did seem like a logical explanation, and it was. Floyd may not have been the oldest, but he always had reason and logic behind his smart words.
"You're right." You were still stressed, no doubt, but that calmed your fears down. "Are you guys gonna be okay?"
Floyd spared another guilty glance at Branch and nodded, offering a soft smile and urging you to go look for your lover.
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The troll tree was huge, and even with its large size, it was hard to find any area that wasn't already occupied. Trolls made sure to take advantage of all their space; it was their home, and they made the most of it.
But even with every taken, there was one place that was free from everyone else.
A special spot reserved for you and your lover.
The Point.
Little knew about the spot, and those who did ensured it remained private.
Hidden in the leaves was a branch sticking out high enough to conceal the ugly Bergen town that surrounded them and gave them access to the beautiful night sky.
You and John Dory liked to go there a lot. Whether it be dates or to blow off steam (not like that for the weirdos), if he'd go anywhere after an accident like today, he'd go there.
He was very athletic and made a show of it whenever you'd go together, carrying you up. Bridal style or pulling you up with his strong locks—the point was, you had trouble going up on your own.
It took a while—a hard struggle—but it'd be worth it to see your boy up there and cheer him up.
They couldn't just break up; they just needed their leader to see that.
"John Dory?"
You called upon reaching the top, pushing the heavy leaves out of your way, careful not to slip off the branch.
"Baby, are you here?" Your voice was soft; you didn't want to alarm him. He could be really sensitive sometimes.
That thought brought a faint smile to your face. A smile fell upon the realization that he wasn't up here. If not up here, where could he have gone?
Home?
Knowing JD, you doubted it. If this was as serious as Floyd had put it, as serious as he looked, he wouldn't have just gone home.
And so your search ensued.
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You spent days looking for him. Not a spot in the tree was untouched or unsearched by you. Somehow, the troll had just disappeared. No signs. No letters. No goodbyes.
He left you alone to suffer. Wondering where he'd gone, if he was okay, and if you guys were okay.
It was a coincidence, truly.
How on the day you reminisce when he left you without even a word explaining his sudden disappearance all those years ago was the same day you'd find John Dory on your doorstep.
"Come on, baby, could you let me in?"
"Baby?" you scoffed, remaining with your back slammed against the door in exasperation. "You lost the right to call me that a very long time ago."
One moment you were having a nice day, reading a nice book by your fireplace, enjoying the pitter-patter of rain outside, and the thunder struck, shaking you in the best way possible.
And the next...
"It's cooold..."
He whined, banging on the door desperately.
You couldn't bear to look at him; the second you already spent doing so when you opened the door was enough. He had a face that you'd never forget.
How'd he even find you?
"Go. Away." you growled.
"But it's cold outside."
You clenched your jaw, glaring at the door handle as he shook it. JD used little effort to push at the door; by the weight of it, he could tell you were against it. Not that it mattered.
He was strong; he could easily open it if he wanted to.
"You simply must go."
"Baby, it's cold outside."
If John Dory thinks a little singing is enough to serenade you, he is more of an idiot than you are already aware he is. You weren't a teenager helplessly in love with a silly musician from next door, you were grown.
Mature.
His tricks weren't going to work on you.
"The answer is no."
"But baby, it's cold outside."
He put more pressure, pushing, and you cursed for the lack of a lock on your door.
Trolls don't do locks! They don't have anything to worry about!
Except ex-boyfriend's trying to come in and ruin your life all over again.
"The welcome has been-."
"You should feel so lucky I dropped in."
You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping with your words, "So nice and warm."
He pushed the door, slipping a leg in to stop it from shutting completely, peeking a crack. You groaned and peered through it at him.
Sharp glares were directed at him, and gosh, if only looks could kill, he would've dropped dead right now.
He looked stupid.
Stupid puppy eyes with his stupid goggles and a stupid pout on his stupid face. He was soaked from head to toe, the rain falling on him more and more every second he stood outside.
My, did he look pathetic?
BANG!
He shrieked, desperation on his face and voice, jumping at the loud crash of thunder, lighting up the dark sky.
He turned back to you, singing rapidly.
"Look out the window at that storm!"
"Ugh, okay! Come in!"
His face lit up, the door swinging open, and he rushed in, soaking your carpet with rain as you shut the door behind him, slamming it hard enough that the whole house shook with force.
He glanced at you in surprise, getting a glare in return.
JD opened his mouth to speak, obviously nothing nice with the smug look on his face, and you were quick to shut him down.
"Don't."
He clamped his mouth shut, smirking and holding his hands up in defense. "I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Stay."
You urged with a pointed finger, walking off to your bathroom in search of a towel.
"Yes, your majesty."
You hated him with every fiber of your being, but you weren't cruel. He might've been, but you weren't. Any troll would do the same as you; offer him some refuge from the storm outside.
Returning with a towel, you didn't bother passing it to him, tossing it and smacking him right in the face.
Maybe you were a little cruel.
He reacted with a huff, taking it and wrapping it around himself, not bothering to dry himself like ordered, but more like a shelter from the cold.
"Is that how you treat your boyfriend after all these years?"
John Dory tutted, shaking his head in disappointment as he took a single step in your direction.
"Boyfriend?" you scoffed.
"I mean, technically, we never broke up."
Oh, you wanted to punch his little ugly face so bad.
"You disappearing without saying anything was us "technically" breaking up." You did air quotations with another roll of your eyes, speaking before he did, exasperated.
"Why are you even here, John Dory?"
He stayed silent for a few moments, pondering what exactly to say. What could he say? He knew it was stupid of him to even come in the first place. He knew you'd be angry, upset, but not like this.
You didn't look the slightest bit happy to see him.
His smugness dropped along with his shoulders, and he took a breath.
"I need your help."
He looked dead serious. So serious.
You shook your head, your lips curling up in disbelief. "You need my help. Right." your arms crossed, "You leave, disappear off to who knows where, say nothing, suddenly come back after 20 years, and you decide you want my help?"
A short and dry laugh left you.
John Dory really was unbelievable.
"I knew you wouldn't want to see me..."
"I don't want to see you." You cut him off with a grimace, ready to say more-
He had that same desperate look.
Honestly, it brought you back. It brought you back to all those years ago, when both of you were young.
John Dory was always a terrible boyfriend, cocky and arrogant, bossy, too busy with BroZone to give you the time you needed. It hurt you. You loved him so much, and he didn't seem to always reciprocate those feelings. And each time you guys would argue and break up, he would be the first to return with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
"Leave me alone, John. You can't just come back and expect me to accept you. That's not how life works! If you wanna be in a relationship, you have to commit-..."
"Can you please just listen?"
He stared at you with a small pout, furrowed brows, eyes pleading into yours for you to give him a second chance. His stupid, loving eyes knew exactly how you worked. How exactly to work you.
The only difference right now was that he came empty-handed.
Nevertheless, it effectively shut you up.
"I fucked up all those years ago, I know. I fucked up leaving you. That's the biggest mistake I've ever made. I should've said goodbye, apologized, invited you to come with me- I should've done something!" He ranted, "But I didn't. And I just left..."
John Dory expected you to say something. One of your snarky remarks and cut him off, tell him he's wrong or right, and degrade him on what a terrible person he is because he is well aware of it.
But he's trying.
"Baby, you of all trolls know how terrible I am at apologies," he sighed.
And you didn't bother to correct him on your name; looking at him up and down, eyes still narrowed. You were still angry, you'd probably be angry for a very long time, but for the moment... you'd put it aside.
"What do you need help with?"
His face lit up, beaming at you at your acceptance, not denying him completely, not shunning the troll out, and kicking him back into the rain. You were hearing him out.
You noticed the look and huffed, "Just because I'm asking does��not mean I'm going to say yes."
"Floyd's been kidnapped."
Your expression softened, and your mouth fell open in a quiet gasp.
"Kidnapped?"
"I got a letter from him saying he got kidnapped by popstars Velvet and Veneer." He went on and explained the story about how he went to see him and help him escape, only to fail: "-The only way to free him is by singing the perfect family harmony."
You loved Floyd to this day. It'd been years since you'd last talked to him, heard of him at all, but the same amount of affection you felt for the troll remained.
"I need to get the band back together. And... I really can't do it on my own. I'm not sure if they want to see me any more than you did-."
You cut him off a lot.
"I'll help," he grinned. "But not for you. For Floyd. Don't think I've forgiven you yet."
"Yet?"
"Shut up."
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792 notes · View notes
runningfrom2am · 5 months
Text
leveling the playing field XVI
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summary: you can finally go home.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.4k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do.). implications and mentions of abuse and some non-graphic violence, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation.
a/n: i can't believe this is it :') the final part (excluding the epilogue which is coming v soon). thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!
series masterlist // playlist
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"Y/N/N. Do you have your clothes from home?" Coryo asks, pulling the boat back up onto the shore. The guns were gone. He's free to go home if he wants.
"Yes." You nod. "I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted." You chuckle, looking up into the woods behind the cabin, hoping Sejanus is long gone by now.
"Okay. You're gonna stay here, just for a few days, and then I'll come get you before the train leaves. I'll take you to Two with me, just wear those. You'll fit in better."
"Okay..." You nod, nervous about being out here all alone for so long.
"I'll come bring you food as much as I can." He knew it would be a long hike each way to come see you, but he would have to carve out the time. He looks up at you quickly from digging through his own bag when he hears you sniffle. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"I- uhm..." You clear your throat, fanning your eyes to keep any tears from falling. "I'm just scared." You try and laugh it off, shaking your head slightly.
"Don't be scared." Coryo shakes his head, dropping the bag to grab your shoulders. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, Darling, but we don't have another choice. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"I know, I know that..." You sniff, looking up at him. "Is she dead?"
"Yes." He answers quickly. "I buried her. She can't hurt you." He promises. Was that true? No, definitely not. There was no trace of her after the shot besides her earring on the ground,  but he had hit her. He was sure of it. There was no reason to tell you that, though, just to scare you more. You couldn't go back to town, there was nowhere for you to hide while peacekeepers searched every inch of the populated part of the District for days while he waited for his train.
"Okay." You whisper, taking a deep, shakey breath as you look around at the suddenly scary forested area around you. The rain had started to clear up, which helped with the sun peeking through the clouds to brighten up the lake. If Lucy Gray hadn't ruined everything, you would probably be getting ready to keep moving.
"Just, try to relax out here. Okay? Go for a swim, just enjoy the fresh air." He smiles softly, brushing some hair back out of your face as he tries to make you feel better.
"I've had enough of the woods for the rest of my life." You scoff, shaking your head under his hold.
"I know, Y/N/N, I'm sorry. It's only a few days. Like I said, I'll come back for you whenever I'm free." Even if he could only stay for five minutes before he had to turn around and make the trip back to town, he would do it. "Then we'll figure everything out. I'll handle it."
"I... I just want to go home, but I can't." You cry, letting him wipe your tears as your chest flushes with the emotion.
Coryo winces at your tears. He hates seeing you cry, and he has seen it far more times than he would have liked to in the last few months. "I'm going to figure it out. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise." He says softly, trying to get you to look at him.
You lean into his palm, closing your eyes as you try desperately to pull it together. You were exhausted, but this was the last thing Coryo needed right now. "I'm sorry. I'm just having a moment."
"I know. You're okay." He chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you into a hug, rocking your body gently back and forth. "You know, I think the last time you said that to me was the day I realized I was in love with you." He hums, squeezing your shoulders gently.
You laugh, which makes him smile. It's what he wanted. "I feel like that's a bit dramatic."
"No, it's true." He grins, craning his neck to look down at you. "You defended me, and you listened to me, and you looked just so pretty doing it..."
You bury your face in his shirt to hide your blush.
"You're always on my team, and I appreciate that. I really do." He explains, satisfied that he's made you feel at least a little better. "I hope you know I'm always on your side, too."
You nod slightly, smiling through your tears as you look up at him. "I know."
"Good." Coryo whispers, kissing your nose. "I love you."
"Really?" You whisper, eyes lighting up as you wring your hands together against his chest in front of you. "You're not just saying that because I'm crying on you?" You laugh slightly.
"No, I do." He nods in confirmation, grinning down at you in admiration. "There's no one else in this world I can trust as much as I can trust you."
"Then why'd you give her your scarf?" You ask, tilting your head. "It looked... valuable."
"It was. It belonged to my mother..." He says solemnly. He suddenly shakes his head, mocking your expression as he changes the tone. "You really were dead to the world, huh? I was holding it, and she just asked if she could see it. Then she didn't give it back." Coryo explains, raising an eyebrow at you. "Why, are you jealous of the dead girl?"
You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, attempting to shove him away.
"Hey, I'm kidding." He laughs, pulling you close again by your wrists. "Don't you trust me?"
"Okay, yes, I trust you." You giggle as he drops your wrists, sliding his hands over your waist.
"And you love me?" Coryo asks, urging you on.
"And I love you." You grin, nodding slightly.
"That's my girl..." He hums, running a hand lower down your side, thumb running over your midsection as he leans in to kiss you. He had you right where he wanted you, he'd wanted to say that for ages. Only since he even clued into the fact that the buzz he gets under his skin when he catches you smiling, anyway. Realistically, you were something he had always wanted. Picturing his future over the last few years when he was dragging himself out of bed every morning desperate to arrive to class on time even on an empty stomach, his daydreams of his success always included your own, as well.
Now, it was only the two of you. He was so right about you, you were perfect in every way. Smart, obedient to him and only to him, but you fought for what you wanted. You knew struggle, pressure, and soul crushing expectations in the same way he did. Through all of it, you were there for him. You were beautiful- and he was the only one smart enough to see past your occasional outbursts. No one knew how to navigate you like he did, and he was lucky that few people ever bothered to try.
The most beautiful girl in all of the Capitol, and you were his. He meant it when he said that he would never let anyone hurt you. He couldn't let anyone take you from him.
"Do you know where we're going? Where Tigris and your Grandma'am are living?" You whisper, curled up next to Coryo on the train as it pulls into the Capitol station. You're holding the orange silk scarf in your hands, using it as a small blanket in the cold train car. You had spent most of your time out by the lake trying to clean it- but dirt was a stubborn stain. You'd have to be more thorough once you had access to cleaning supplies again. You couldn't let such a lovely piece of clothing go to waste, especially when it was so valuable to him.
"I don't..." Coryo mumbles in response, staring out the window as you lean your head against his shoulder, knees tucked up to your chest. "They shouldn't be hard to find, though."
The wheels screech to a slow stop in the familiar city, and you can't help but smile at the endless sea of grey architecture. It wasn't anything like the forest in Twelve, and you loved it. The door slides open and some peacekeepers enter, drawing both of your attention as you sit up away from him.
"Dr. Gaul is expecting you both in her lab immediately." One of them informs you, and you nod a little bit, looking nervously over at your boyfriend.
You hung off his arm for the entire car ride and all the way to the lab as you're escorted by the men in the matching uniform to his own. Your clothes were dirty, despite how many times you cleaned them back in District Twelve. You had cleaned them obsessively throughout the last couple of months, but the water was never quite clear enough to be helpful. It was vile. Surely you smell unpleasant due to this, and you were hoping you would have a shower before confronting anyone from your previous life, but clearly, you weren't so lucky.
"Do I stink?" You whisper, trying to avoid the echo of the large room as your heels click across the linoleum flooring.
"Not any more than I do." Coryo answers, a small smile pulling on his lips as he glances down at you.
You giggle, gently slapping his chest as he removes his hat.
"Congratulations, Mister Snow, Miss Y/L/N. You've passed all my tests." You look up at Dr. Gaul for the first time as she speaks to you, tossing something into a pool on her floor. "I've asked President Ravenstill to grant you both a full pardon, effective immediately."
You don't say anything as you both stop in front of the tank in the ground, staring into it as Coryo revels in the shock. "I also told him that you are too promising to be wasted in the Districts. So you will be studying under me at the Capitol University."
While she speaks, you pull Tigris's coat tighter around yourself at the slimy, vicious look of whatever creatures are splashing around inside that tank that she is continuously feeding.
"We can't afford university." Coryo answers on your behalf, forcing you to look up at the woman across from you. While you were incredibly grateful, you were scared. Things were complicated back at your parents' home, and even with a legal form of forgiveness, it's not likely your father will see it the same way. You couldn't go back, and he wasn't likely to give you a dime or let you go free. Within the week, you'd probably die from an "unknown illness" contracted in the Districts if he found out you were home.
"A certain Mister Strabo Plinth has offered to pay for everything you need while you're there. All for being such good friends to his Sejanus." Dr. Gaul explains and your heart drops in your chest. You can't help but wonder if he's even still alive out there, in the North. "He doesn't know quite how good a friend you were, of course. I never mentioned your little recording. Quite impressive, Mister Snow, how you sent your only friend to the grave just to get my attention."
"That's not what I did." Coryo shakes his head at the allegation.
He squeezes your arm in warning, knowing this topic was a fine line to walk. "Are you sure? Because I think that won you the Plinth Prize, after all."
"Sejanus Plinth is not dead." You blurt out without thinking. She tilts her head at you, looking at you intensely, a knowing smile growing on her lips.
"Oh?" She asks, and internally you struggle for a saving grace while Coryo furrows his brow at you. You hadn't seen Sejanus since you sent him away, but you did try looking for him in your days out there alone. You had to believe he was alive, after you gave him his way out.
"Well, I heard that he had escaped in Twelve. As far as I know, they never found a body. He planned on running off anyway. That's likely what he did." You explain, clearing your throat.
"I agree. That is likely, but the odds he would survive out there..." She shakes her head slightly, dropping another treat into the tank as the creatures snap at it. "Anyway, the president has agreed to another year of the games! People watched, and I have you kids to thank for that."
You and Coryo wear matching grins now, posture perfect to match your collective pride.
"But before I take you under my wing, after everything you've seen out there in the real world, let me ask you one final time." Dr. Gaul says, looking pointedly between the two of you. "What are the Hunger Games for?"
You look up at your boyfriend, nodding for him to answer. "I used to think that the Hunger Games were a punishment for the districts. Then, I thought they served as a warning to us here in the capitol, about the threat the districts posed. Now I know the whole world is an arena. And we need the Hunger Games every year to remind us all who we truly are."
"And who are you, do you determine?" Coryo looks down at you as she speaks.
"We are the Victors." You finish with a proud smile, looking at the woman across from you who seems more than pleased with your answer.
"Coriolanus, what are you doing back so soon?" Your mom greets him as she opens the door of your childhood home, smiling sadly, confused as to the condition of his return.
"Good afternoon, Ma'am." He smiles politely, grey uniform cap now clutched to his chest. "I proved to be exceptional in my training. Dr. Gaul saw it was better Y/N and I work under her at the University."
"Y/N?" Your mom gasps, reaching up to cover her mouth with her hand. "She's alive?"
"I assure you, she is safe." Coriolanus nods. "Now, may I speak with your husband? I won't take up much of his time." He brushes past her, entering the home without waiting for permission.
"Well, dear, where is she?" Your mom asks, letting him pass and closing the door quickly. "Why hasn't she come home?"
"I think you know why she hasn't come here." He hums, looking around. "Where is he?"
"His study." Your mom answers quietly, gesturing up the stairs. "I'll walk you."
"No need. I know where I'm going." He gives her a small smile in return, following the familiar path toward your room.
He stops in front of your father's study, knocking before taking a step back. The force of habit leads him to stand at attention while he waits for permission to enter.
"I'm busy, don't bother me." Your father's voice echoes through the ornate lining on the door. Then he realizes, he doesn't need permission. Not anymore.
Coriolanus huffs, opening the door and stepping in.
"I said-" Your father growls, slamming his pen down on the desk before he looks up and takes in the grey of Coriolanus's decorated peacekeeper uniform. "Coriolanus."
"Sir." He nods in response, closing the door quietly behind himself. "May I sit?" He asks coldly, gesturing to the chair across from him.
"Please." Your father nods, brow furrowed as to what the blonde boy could possibly want, or what he is doing back so soon.
"Y/N isn't here, son." Your father sighs. "She-"
"I know that." Coriolanus interrupts, placing his hat on the desk between them.
"You know where she is." Your father's tone is unsurprised, but questioning.
"I do." He confirms, back straight in the chair. He had always been afraid of your father, but this was built on an admiration. He reminded him of what little he remembered about his own father. This morphed into anger slowly but surely over the last few years, picking up several hints either in your appearance, demeanor, or choice of words which painted an incredibly unflattering picture of who the man sitting in front of him truly was.
Your dad hums in response, eyes locked on the boy. "How was your summer?"
The question catches Coryo off guard, but he puts all his focus into maintaining his poise. He has the upper hand, here, and he has to keep reminding himself of that. "It was good. Certainly an eye-opening experience, the people out there are very... different."
"Then what brought you back so soon?" His neglect to even ask where you were, if you were okay, if you were even alive makes Coryo's blood boil in his veins.
"Dr. Gaul." Coriolanus states, swallowing before he continues. "She granted your daughter and I a full pardon in exchange for taking an internship under her at the university. After all, that is her dream, is it not?"
Your father's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of your name. "It was." He agrees.
"Is." Coriolanus corrects him, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Strabo Plinth has offered to pay our way."
"Of course he has." Your dad chuckles, but not an ounce of humour reaches his eyes. "Self righteous bastard..."
"Seeing as you don't care about her as much as you care about your own reputation, he saw it would be a way to repay her for her loyal friendship to his son. She saved his life twice, after all." Coryo ignores your father's comment, watching as the gears turn in his head, trying to remember the second time.
"I know you think you understand my daughter, Coriolanus, but there are some parts of her you will never know. Not truly." Your father responds coolly. "So, I'm not sure what she has told you, but-"
"But nothing." Coryo cuts him off, leaning back in his seat. "Here is what is going to happen. You will have nothing to do with her, her life, her mistakes, or her decisions any longer. Since, in your own words, you see her as such a burden, I am willing to free you of that."
Your dad grits his teeth together, and it's his turn to lean forward. "Coriolanus Snow, you will not speak to me that way in my own home. Y/N is my daughter, and I shall be involved as I please and I shall do with her what I deem appropriate to consequent her actions."
"No." Coryo replies sternly, standing up abruptly, unabashed by the sound of the chair scraping across the wooden floor as he slams his fist on the desk. "She is eighteen. I  take responsibility for her now, and unless you want to lose everything you and Highbottom have built, you will cut me in on every dime you make. Do you understand?"
Your dad laughs again. "And who will believe you, Coryo? You're just kids. You don't know what you're talking about. Whatever she told you is untrue. Simple as that."
"Would you like a list?" Coryo threatens. "Is that a risk you're willing to take, Y/D/N?"
He sighs, standing up to look eye to eye with him, clearly seething with the disrespectful use of his first name. "She's more trouble for you than it's worth, Son."
"That is my decision to make." Coryo says through gritted teeth.
"Suit yourself." Your dad raises his hands in defeat, careful to not show any fear. Coriolanus could see through it, though. He's won, and he knows it; it was a great deal, if your father was smart enough to see it that way. "How much do you want? Money is nothing to me."
"More than Highbottom gets." Coriolanus requests plainly, grabbing his hat and placing it back over his head. "And you'll pay for our wedding." He adds casually, pushing the discarded chair back into its place. "You'll pay for as many dresses and parties as she wants, every drink, every slice of cake, and every last flower she wishes for exactly how she wishes for it. No compromises, and no surprise appearances from you. Are. We. Clear?" He speaks clearly, intentionally enunciating every word with a trace of venom.
"Crystal." Your father scoffs, taking a drink from the whiskey glass on his desk.
Coriolanus nods, giving him a small smile. "Good. I'll be expecting the money orders every other week." He grins smugly, giving your father a quick bow before heading for the door, stopping as his hand brushes over the handle. "All due respect, Sir, which I deem to be very little, but what you have done to your daughter over all these years is what has made her into the woman you hate. Don't think I was the only one who noticed, and you would deserve every bit of harm we could do to your name. If you ever so much as speak to her again, I will kill you myself."
Coryo glances back at your father's expression only briefly before leaving. He couldn't resist the satisfying look of loathing and anger on the man's face.
The small smile sticks as he walks down the stairs, hearing the crystal glass shatter as it's thrown against the door behind him.
Finally, you were totally even.
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taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney
taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!
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selfishdoll · 6 months
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LITTLE MISS PERFECT FT. EREN YEAGER ୨୧ 。 ⟡
⠀ ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 it was just your luck that a coworker you simply couldn’t stand figured out your side gig as a bottle girl.
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❛content warning(s)...❜ ━━ ooc eren (this is my first time writing for him) | reader & eren argue but it’s really unresolved sexual tension | eren is a tease | they are both 21+ | porn with minimal amounts of plot | pet names (mama, pretty, sweetheart, etc) | reader calls eren a stalker | semi-public sex | buzzed(?) sex | ass slapping | eren likes eye contact | service dom (?) eren | he has shoulder length hair | orgasm denial (like twice) | throat holding | etc. if i forgot something let me know.
❛author’s note...❜ ━━ i’ve never written for eren before so don’t clown me yall— also i know little about bottle girls so also don’t clown me, i just like the way they look.
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You were delicate and careful, assuring the oddly shaped makeup tool was setting the makeup perfectly. You couldn’t afford to mess up or restart your routine— you were already three minutes behind schedule.
“Damn you Yeager..” You mumbled to yourself, glossed and lined lips pulled into a subtle frown. Why exactly were you forced to work with him? With that.. absolutely annoying man child? His temper was too much for you at times, and the way he just loved questioning just about everything— God, some days you believed your supervisor purposely set you two to work together.
So it was no surprise you two got into an usual spout; for what, you can’t even remember. You simply remember your gaze fixated on his — dare you say — handsome features, absolute venom escaping your plump lips. Words faltering every single time you saw his own jade colored gaze fall to your lips.
You could not stand Eren Yeager no matter how much he made you weak at the knees.
You tossed the tool to the side, rising from your vanity whilst grabbing the bottle of setting spray. Closing your eyes, you quickly sprayed your beat face, assuring to get every inch. Having it run in the middle of your shift was something you wanted to avoid.
You slammed the bottle down once you were done, stepping back and glancing at yourself in the mirror. French white nails carefully plucked the curls of your burgundy colored lace, nodding at the way they fell so pleasantly around your features. The second thing to critique was your outfit; a mesh sleeveless romper that had several splits between your cleavage and was just dark enough it covered your bottom half. Your eyes traced yourself for a split moment, finally nodded once satisfied.
Grabbing your bag, phone, and keys— you rushed out of your apartment after locking the door.
You reached the night club you work at about ten minutes late, your close friend luckily getting most things ready before your arrival. Once arriving you cleaned up your sections, assuring the tables were spotless and booths were in proper order. Finishing that task you moved towards the locker room to touch up yourself, spritzing your body with a sweet perfume whilst your friend separated your curls.
“You and that Eren guy should just fuck and get it over with.”
You scoffed at her words, placing your perfume away; going for your lipgloss next. “I’d rather chew on glass.” You murmured softly, gliding the stick substance across your two-toned lips. Fuck Eren? He was easy on the eyes, sure— but not easy anywhere else. As said before, you couldn’t stand him. And you highly doubt you would stand him enough to sleep with him.
You heard your friend sigh, releasing your hair to walk around and face you. “I don’t know.. it just sounds like unresolved tension or something— ya know?” Her lips curled at the deadpanned expression that crossed your features, gaze watching you hurriedly place your things away.
“C‘mon our sections may be filling up.”
“Don’t ignore me, [Name]!”
The night continued as pure usual, you lifting large bottles of alcohol ranging from Hennessy to Pink Whitney and much more; over to your booths, flashing forced smiles and moving your hips to the beat of the music. The multicolored lights reflected off your sun-kissed highlighting each feature you had.
At certain tables a customer would get up and dance with you and the other girls; causing your smile to worsen but otherwise continue the service with no issues.
That was how your shift as a bottle girl was supposed to go. No issues, just simple adult fun.
Until you reached a certain table.
You walked over as pure usual, pearly whites on display account of the glossed smile stretching your features. Sauntering over with a notepad, you gave your usual winning pitch; attempting to persuade the customers to buy the most expensive alcohol to assure the best experience — usual customer service nonsense.
Except as your eyes cased the table surrounded by men, your gaze settled upon a certain one. One whose own gaze was fixated onto you. A rather, familiar gaze.
“Ma’am?”
You cleared your throat, eyes blinking over to a man with light ash-brown hair. “Ye—yes, have you decided what you wanted to order?” You questioned, smile becoming even more forceful the moment you noticed a smirk from your peripherals. You barely registered the order that escaped his lips, scribbling upon your notepad quickly whilst the other men chimed in with their own requests.
“Okay, I’ll be right back!” You spoke, spinning on your heels and basically rushing towards the bar. You stood behind it, eyes tracing the many bottles lining the case. It took a moment to find what you were looking for, stepping back a bit before a small ah fell from your lips, approaching a case. You pulled the large bottle of Gin from its rightful place, turning and jumping the minute your focused gaze landed on someone else’s.
“Hey [Name]..” Was the cool words that escaped Eren fucking Yeager, lips curled into the most subtle grin. You took in a deep breath, placing the bottle down and turning to search for another.
“Sir, the whole point of a bottle girl service is I bring the drinks to you. You have no need to approach the bar.”
“There’s no rules stating I can’t though, right?”
You gritted your teeth a bit, noticing the clear amusement circling his tone. Grabbing a bottle of cream liquor you turned once again, placing it down with a little more force. “Eren, would you fuck off? Save your taunting for another time, i’m trying to work!”
The man tilted his head, strays from his messy bun intruding on his face. “I didn’t come over here to taunt, [Name]. I was just..” He trailed off for a moment, lips curling into an even more prominent grin. “Surprised little miss perfect had a job such as this. Didn’t seem like your style.”
You rolled your eyes a little, grabbing a few shot glasses and placing them on a tray. “Well, everyone has their side hustles..” You murmured softly, beginning to pour a few shots— grumbling the moment ring covered fingers lifted one. You settled the bottle down once you were finished, eyes focusing back to the man infront of you. “You gonna blab to the whole office you saw me working here?”
You weren’t ashamed to be a bottle girl, if anyone asked you were more than happy to share. However, that didn’t excuse the fact you enjoyed keeping your private life.. well, private. You could just imagine the annoyance it would be with such information circling your “normal” workplace.
“No.” Eren began slowly, lifting the glass to his lips and taking the shot. His tongue glided across his bottom lip after pulling the glass away, placing it back down on the tray. “I’d much rather keep you all to myself.” His eyes flicked between your eyes and lips, enjoying the perplexed expression that crossed your face.
Eren rose away from the bar with a soft hum shortly after. “See you at the table..” He dragged giving you one last look before stalking off towards his section.
Leaving you the perfect mixture of confused and heated.
The rest of the night continued without a hitch. Except his eyes followed your every move. From you walking over with the shots, hips rocking along to the harsh beats of the music blasting — to you dancing beside the other bottle girls.
You tried to ignore it all, tried to focus on anything but him. But, you found your eyes trailing over to his own constantly— spotting his pretty lips lift into a smile.
Suffice to say, you were a little distracted for the remainder of the night.
And several others down the line.
Your schedule was so you worked Friday-Sunday, taking up a shift once in a while as a favor. Either the man had guessed your schedule or he asked because every other Saturday Eren and his friends were seated at your section; his eyes never leaving your form the entire time.
The second time he came in you remarked it as a coincidence, but the fourth? Yeah, you were sure the man was messing with you. Especially since he acted so normal at work; still as combative, and still as annoying.
It was boggling, you constantly questioning Eren’s motives. It’s not like he ever got extremely drunk; settling for a shot or two. Was he really just here to watch you? To antagonize you? To approach the bar each time you walked off just to speak or compliment what you were wearing?
You sighed heavily the moment familiar footsteps followed you back to the bar, walking around the counter; thankful it placed distance between you and the man. “You’re starting to act like a stalker, Yeager.” You mumbled, grabbing a bottle of Hennessy. You heard the barstool squeak the moment he sat on it, turning to spot his ringer covered fingers tapping against the sleek marble.
“Gonna have the bouncer throw me out?” He questioned, green gaze looking at you through pretty lashes. The moment you turned away silently Eren was smiling, tongue gliding across his lips. “Guess not..”
You tried to ignore him, you really did; attempting to focus on your shaky hands pouring the usual seven glasses resting your tray— not even batting an eye when he grabbed one without asking.
“You look nice tonight..” Eren spoke lowly, eyes not so shamelessly tracing over the black attire you wore; a black leather skirt, with a mesh halter top, a silver necklace hanging accompanying the outfit.
You rolled your eyes a little, reaching for another bottle. “You say that every single time you see me.”
“And I mean it— every single time.” He countered, placing the now empty glass down.
You could only blink at the man for a moment, completely forgetting the drinks as a heat covered your entire body. Your eyes fell to the bar, lip caught between your teeth as the softest stammer escaped you; “Why do you keep coming here? To compliment and watch me? You don’t even get drunk like your friends do.”
The words settled in the air for a while, Eren silent— his eyes focused completely on you; an intense stare you avoided. Moments passed before the man spoke again;
“I’d much rather show you, why I keep coming here.”
His lips were hot against your own, body flush against you whilst pushing your back into the cool bathroom wall. Eren’s large hands remained on your waist, pulling you into him each time you attempted to back away. Why exactly? Because he was so overwhelming. His taste, tongue, smell— all of it muddling your brain far too quickly, rendering you into putty he could so easily play with.
You were finally able to pull back from the kiss, when he needed air, pants flowing from your lips; lipgloss a mess with your mixed salvia tainting your mouth. The hands on Eren’s shoulders gripped the cream colored longsleeve he wore the moment his lips pressed against your neck, breath quickening as he sucked a kiss into your skin.
The events leading up to now were a complete blur, Eren uttering such words and suddenly leading you into the woman’s bathroom; locking the door the second the two of you entered. After that well.. you found yourself against the wall by the sink, Eren’s hands situated on your form to assure you didn’t move an inch away.
Truthfully, you didn’t want to.
It seemed he got bored of your neck quickly, rising back up to steal your lips in another kiss. You moaned against his mouth the moment his fingers gripped your waist, switching you around to place you onto the counter. Your legs naturally opened, Eren taking this moment to step between them, smoothing his hand down to your exposed skin.
You pulled back, hands rising to his hair quickly to tug the moment he tried to go for another kiss. “Let me breathe, Eren— fuck..” You gasped out, watching a smirk pull his lips which were stained with your gloss.
“Then breathe.” He spoke, leaning close and pressing his forehead against your own. Despite his allowance, you couldn’t; feeling his hand travel between your legs, tracing your inner thigh for a moment before moving farther. Eren’s other hand moved to your lower back, keeping you in place while his thumb pressed against your thinly covered pussy, brushing at the wet spot slowly starting to form.
“Already a mess down here, huh?”
“Eren, quit it..” You drawled, legs gripping his waist the moment his thumb pushed to find your covered clit, rubbing the little bud the moment he did.
A soft chuckle flowed from his lips right into your ear, lips tracing the delicate shell just to feel you shiver. “Quit what? Quit touching you?.. quit talking?—“ Eren murmured, pushing your panties to the side, exposing your pretty cunt to his fingers. “Either one, you don’t want me to stop at anyway. Not with how fucking wet you are for me.” He spoke, fingers gliding up and down your slick slit whilst his thumb pressed harder against your little bud.
Your legs widened, trembled— hands gripping his shirt and moaning the moment two thick digits pushed inside your awaiting entrance. Your walls clenched around his fingers, gasping as they pushed in and out of you so easily. He was down to the knuckle, reaching far deeper then your own fingers. The squelches of your messy cunt was drowned out by your own sweet moans, head pressed against the mirror behind you whilst your hand fell to his forearm; feeling his muscles twitch with each thrust of his fingers.
Eren pulled back from your ear to instead plant his lips against yours again, pace quickening. His fingers pushed against the rough spot within you, gummy walls sucking his fingers in each time it dragged in and out of you.
Your moans were muffled, eyes pinched closed with a tight band forming in your lower stomach. You were shaking at this point; breaking the kiss to allow sharp whines to escape your swollen lips. Your pussy was spasming around his digits, hips rocking to meet each thrust.
Eren took in your form, sucking in a breath as he felt his cock strain against his pants. You were so fucking close; your walls greedily sucking him in, your plump stomach rolling with each arch— fuck, from just his fingers you were already in such a state.
He sucked his teeth a bit, withdrawing his fingers before you could even reach your peak. Your eyes flew open at this, shaky gaze focusing onto Eren.
“Eren why’d y—“ Eren came close, cutting off your words with a gentle hand on your throat and lifting you away from leaning on the mirror.
“Whining over nothing… you’ll come baby, just wait.” Eren spoke, hands falling to your thighs and pulling you towards the edge of the counter. Once there, he stepped back to push his boxers and pants down to his thighs; allowing his length to spring out.
He was nice and thick, long too— tip resting just below his belly button, adoring minimal hair. You weren’t given much time to gawk before he was coming close, hands falling to your hips and pressing the crown of his cock against your wet slit.
Slowly, he glided his length up and down your wetness; coating himself in your arousal. Each time his tip bumped against your clit you were twitching, white nails digging into his shoulders while your hips moved for more friction.
Finally after what seemed like hours but was nothing more then agonizing seconds, Eren was slowly pushing inside; groaning the moment your walls clenched around him.
“Relax mama..” He murmured, leaning down to kiss you. A hand then released your hip to travel between your legs, slowly circling your clit. You moaned against him, feeling him ease the rest of himself inside; a soft squelch emitting from the intrusion.
Eren pulled back from the kiss, eyes traveling to where the two of you were connected; sucking in a breath. “Taking me so damn well, pretty girl..” His grin grew the moment your walls clenched around him, eyes flicking to your face. “Oh— you like when I call you that, huh?” A snicker escaped him the moment your eyes traveled to the side, leaning to kiss your neck.
“So cute when you’re embarassed [Name].”
“Sh.. shut up Eren..—“ The words barely escaped you before said man was pulling his hips back, tip resting inside you before flicking them forward. Your hands grip tightened on his shirt, legs tightening as the experimental pumps turned into deep, quick thrusts.
Sputters of his name escaped you, head resting back as your body rocked with each unrelenting movement of his hips. You were squeezing him so damn tight, greedily sucking him in each time he pulled out. The breaths that escaped his mouth were hurried, fanning across your hot skin whilst his fingers dug into your plump form. You were stuck there, unable to run, to move; exposed to the pace he set— ruining you so perfectly.
Perfect.
That was the only thought in his mind as he green eyes took you in, watching your pretty lashes fluttering— struggling to keep your own eyes open. What’s more, little tears began to form, threatening to spill and ruin the makeup he’s sure you spent agonizing minutes on. The thought alone caused him to bury himself deeper, hands falling to the underside of your thighs and pushing you to lay on the counter.
“F—Fuck—!” You cried out, feeling him lift a leg to lay on his shoulder; drilling into you. His heavy length was brushing you in all the right spots, tip pushing against your cervix; the pain and pleasure molding into a single feeling. “E—eren..hah— shit, you’re too deep!” You whined out, tears spilling, causing black streaks to run down chubby cheeks.
Eren groaned softly, pushing to hover over your body whilst gripping the thigh pressed against his chest. “You want me to stop, baby? Huh? Want me to pull out?” The moment you shook your head he was grinning, pace never faltering, the slick mess between your thighs growing.
“Thought so..” Eren breathed, pulling back to kiss against your chubby thigh while his free hand moved to your stomach, pressing against it to feel each thrust. “Wanted this just as bad as I did, didn’t you? So fucking mean at work, yet here you are— whining and making a complete mess on my dick.”
You wanted to tell him to shut up. That he was wrong and much more. But you couldn’t, the man drilling into you with such precision the only legible words escaping your bruised lips were honeyed moans of his name and pleads to come.
Which Eren ate up completely, biting your skin just to feel you twitch— watch you gasp. Fuck, you were the prettiest sight; a complete mess for only his eyes.
Eren lowered to hover over your withering body, lips pressing against your chin. “Look at me, baby— lemme see you.” He breathed, attempting to keep your gaze. Instead you kept looking away, even closing your eyes and refusing to return his look.
That alone caused the man to suck his teeth, hips slowly before stopping completely; eliminating the bubble forming inside you.
Again, your high was ruined; eyes flying open to complain— a surprised yelp interrupting as he snatched you up and off the counter; pushing to turn you and lay you out— stomach down, ass up.
You wished to question this sudden position change, only for the answer to stand right infront of you. The fucking mirror. You attempted to glance away again, moaning the moment he grabbed a nice hold of your braids, pulling your head back to force you to look.
Eren leaned over you, speaking right into your ear whilst sliding back in; “Close your eyes again, I dare you.”
You whimpered at his words, gasping as his quick pace returned. You struggled to keep your eyes open with each thrust into your weakening body, nails clawing at the sleek counter whilst your moans bounced off the walls. You had long forgotten the remaining two hours of your shift, forgot about the many customers you were sure your friend was saddled with— you could only focus on Eren, his dick, his hot breath and dirty words being whispered into your ear.
You were being consumed completely, so easily— and you welcomed it fully.
The wet sounds of skin on skin contact acted as a background to the combined sounds you two released, Eren pulling back to watch himself push in and out of your wet pussy. Your ass bounced with each flick of his hips, rippling the moment his palm slammed against a cheek.
Eren grinned at the sharp whine that escaped you, pulling you right back on his dick the moment you tried to pull away. “Nah.. take it, mama. Don’t fucking run.” He huffed, gripping your hip and keeping you in place.
You felt your orgasm approaching quickly, tears treading down dried streaks as you watched yourself in the mirror. Your edges were curled, lips wet with both lip gloss and saliva, while your makeup began to run from the sheen of sweat tainting your skin. Even so, Eren still looked at you as if you were completely perfect, leaning down and whispering such right into your ear.
You gripped your hands into tight fists, crying out as you stared at him in the mirror, desperate pleas falling from your lies;
“S—so close.. fuck, fuck! Eren, please—!”
The whines were music to his ears, eyes threatening to roll back the moment he felt you fucking back; ass slapping against his body with each messy bounce. “Shit, [Name]..” He dragged, blunt nails digging into you plush skin as he drilled into you. “Come all over me, mama. Make me a mess— don’t fucking hold it.”
Eren hissed, mouth hanging open the moment he felt you clench around him tight; creaming all over his length. A drawn out swear escaped him, leaning down close whilst his hand rose to your throat. “That’s it baby, cream all over this dick.. So fucking filthy.”
You were pulled into a sloppy kiss, tongues playing and teeth colliding as he pushed himself deep inside; flooding you with his hot, thick come. Your toes curled at the feeling, walls spasming around his length as your combined arousals slipped to his balls and down to the ground beneath you.
As his hips slowed the kiss became more uniform, breathing into the other’s mouth, Eren sucking your wet muscle.
Moments passed before he pulled away, watching your form rest on the counter; rapid pants escaping you. A satisfied grin pulled his features, slowly pulling out with a soft hiss— watching his cum slowly flow out of you.
He had half a mind to push it back in.
Instead, Eren whistled lowly, hand falling to your ass and massaging where he previously slapped. “Tired sweetheart?” He questioned, eyes flicking to the mirror. He grinned at the expression that crossed your features, gripping your butt even more.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
You slowly turned onto your back, ignoring the feeling between your legs and standing on shaky legs. You warmed as he came close, assisting you in pulling your clothes back on. “But my shift..” You dragged, gaze lifting to his face.
“It got covered.”
You blinked slowly, the pieces slowly coming together. “She was in on this, wasn’t she?”
Eren remained silent for a moment, pulling his pants up. Your gaze narrowed, reaching over to lightly slap his arm. “Eren!”
The man snorted, coming close and resting his hands onto your hips.
“You weren’t worried about it the moment you stepped in here. And you definitely won’t be when I get you home.. so come on.”
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REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3
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leavingsunsets · 8 days
Note
Idia going on his first date with his partner and we just take him to a picnic in the middle of the woods behind the school building.
this sounds ominous... like u just take him... to the middle of the woods.... and on the first date... next thing u know its late at night and ortho cant find his brother... but yes i love picnics !!! :D srry if its a little OOC
"𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗃𝗈 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖾?"
[ᴵᵈⁱᵃ ˢʰʳᵒᵘᵈ ˣ ᵍⁿ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ]
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"Uh, no."
"Oh, boooo. Why not?" You lean on the multitude of pillows on his bed. One of them was a plushie of you, requested by yours truly. Head all round like ball. You squish it.
"Because, really, out in nature? Me?" Idia lowers his Nintendo, looking at you incredulously. "You're asking the introverted tech guy if he wants to go and eat out in the forest?"
You roll your eyes. "Oh, come on, it's not as if I'm asking you out on a hike."
He sticks his face back in the screen. "Same point, I'm not going out to the woods just for lunch when I can have it here."
A sigh. This was a real struggle sometimes, especially with a boyfriend who's not so willing to entertain such cheesy ideas, let alone even imagine doing it.
"Come on, pleaseeee? It'd be really romantic."
"What, you gonna lead me there with a blindfold too?" He snorts while pressing away at the buttons. You throw a pillow at his head. It hits him but he only snickers and lets it fall.
"No. Its not like it's some sorta secret spot anyways. You can literally see the school from there."
He hums, tilting his head as a victory flashes across his screen. "Mmmmmaybe...."
"What, Idia. What series do you want me to binge with you now."
An excited grin stretches on his face. "Attack On Titan, full 4 seasons marathon. And-" he rolls his chair near the edge of the bed where you lay, "gaming session. My game of choice this time, since you always pick Mario Kart because I KNOW you searched up the cheats for that."
"Proof?" You ask smugly with your head resting on your palm.
"Stop using my tablet to google 'Mario Kart glitch hack combo'."
You click your tongue. "Fine. Deal."
"WHOOOOOO!" Idia cheers, pumping his fist.
. . .
It's quiet. Here you both sat, food and drinks alike between you as you're sat at opposite edges of the picnic blanket. You squint your eyes at the stark contrast between the food he brought and yours.
"....I brought Doritos and monster cans because I thought you'd want them," you whisper, looking at the nice weaved basket beside him.
You grip your 7-Eleven plastic bag in shame.
"Wha- Do you think I'm some sorta junkie??" Idia sputters, gaping at you. "And I baked this all for you, you jerk!"
"Well, you were just so against this! So I wanted to make you more comfy! Er, ease you in the vibe, you know?"
"What am I, some sort of screen addict? It's not like I don't know how to be outside, I just don't like to!" It's like there were metaphorical tears streaming down his face. "What sort of ipad kid do you think I am for you to pull this environment adjustment move on me?"
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry, Idia. It was a little insensitive of me."
"Ortho even hyped me up. He said you were probably going to surprise me with cute kitty cupcakes." Idia says, staring off in the distance with blank disappointment.
You groan loudly. "Ughhh baabeeee, I said I'm sooorryyy!"
"Don't 'babe' me! I made you a nice batch of food in this aesthetic cottagecore basket and you waltz in with two cans and a Dorito!" Grumbling, he crosses his arms, turning to the side. "I'm kicking your plushie out of my bed tonight."
At this point, you just sprawl across his lap, and he still doesn't look at you. "Don't do it, pleaasee," you beg muffledly, "I'll make it up to youuu."
"It's gonna take a lot more than just some sorries for this offense."
"...I'll move my minecraft bed beside yours this time."
"I take it back. Apology accepted."
You lift your head, deadpanning. "So you were still mad about about that?"
"Heheha, yeah I was," he giggled. "So, uh, wanna eat? I think it's cooled by now."
"Oh, yeah," you get up off him, fingers eagerly reaching for the basket. Taking it in your arms, you flip it open, only to pause when you see the contents inside.
"...cute kitty cupcakes?" you mutter in wonder.
"Yeah." Idia mumbles, fiddling with his jacket strings in an attempt to act nonchalant about his growing embarrassment.
It's quiet, and before long, you can't stop the cheeky smile creeping up your face.
"Who surprised who now, huh?"
"You're still on thin ice."
"Okay, okay, I'm eating."
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