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#i realized a few weeks ago that this would be a great thing for people to do
hotpinkstars · 3 days
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PREGNANCY CONFLICTS - boothill x reader
- boothill "passes" a few days after you announce your pregnancy. he's soon returned to you as a cyborg, and has a rough time with all of the realizations he discovers during your pregnancy.
- thank u guys sm for all the compliments im getting in my inbox about my idea and my writing i love every single one of u guysssss 💋 💋 and now the fic for my idea is finally here! i hope you guys enjoyyyyy
- mentions of insecurity, PREGNANCY, boothill is sad in this shdjfjsks so pretty much hurt no comfort in a very mild way, "M,d,y" means month, day, year, his way of death is not canon i made something up!!! wc 1.5k
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Boothill has always talked about being a father. With how optimistic about your guys’ future he was, you could already tell he’d be a great, great father. So when you announced your pregnancy to him, he was ecstatic.
He spun you around in the air, putting you down to kiss you passionately. To him, all of his dreams have come true. As if you’ve given him a strong purpose in life, to not only protect you but to protect his little, and hopefully more to come.
“Thank you,” he mumbled into your shoulder as he held you tightly. “Thank you for giving me such an opportunity.”
But then a few days after you announced it to him, he went missing. You spent day and night trying to contact people, get cops on the case, and go out there with someone yourself and try to find him. The cops brought a necklace, splotched in blood, with your initials on it. Saying they found his body and it was barely recognizable. They knew it was him because of the necklace around his neck and the wedding band that was stuck on a stray tree branch.
As both of those were returned back to you, you felt as if you couldn’t look at them without absolutely breaking down. You were set under the impression that he was gone forever. You felt horrible- not only for yourself, but the life you assumed your baby would have, being born into a world where they only have a mother who's trying her absolute best to provide and make sure their life goes as smoothly as possible.
On the 16th week of your pregnancy was when you heard a knock on the door late at night. Who could it be at this hour? You irritatingly got up and walked over to see who would be there.
It was who you were least expecting.
Boothill.
You stood there, unable to register what was happening. You had a hand on your stomach and the other was gripping the door handle. He stopped and stared at you back before beginning to speak.
“Y/n,” he said, nearly a whisper before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t step back, which was a good thing in his eyes.
“Boothill? What- how- huh?” You were absolutely speechless, unable to register the man standing in front of you. He’s dressed a lot differently then how you last saw him- he looked so western. He was western before he was pronounced dead, the accent is what got you in the first place. He’d always go to bars and all of that.
But he never looked so… out of place.
You’ve never seen the boots he had on before. You’ve never seen those pants (why do they look so slutty?) and his shirt was a whole other thing.
But the thing that intrigued you the most was that he was still standing, alive in front of you, but with a fully metal body.
“Come in and explain yourself,” you sighed, turning around and leading him into the all-too-familiar place. It still smelled the same way it used to, flowers and vanilla. He sat down on the white couch, leaning back into the same fabric he knew all that time ago.
But the difference was, he couldn’t feel it.
“How are you here? There's no way you’re real,” you shake your head, standing up and leaning into his face. You grab his chin lightly, turning his head both way before running your hands through his still silky hair. “Answer my questions.”
“Alright, shoot em.”
“When did you get me pregnant?” You ask, still looking into his now different eyes.
“Four months ago. You should be 16 weeks now.”
You nodded. “When's my birthday…?”
“M,d,y.”
You nodded. He was on it, and it’s convincing you even more that he was your Boothill.
“Lastly, why are you metal?”
“My body was destroyed. Y’ probably remember it,” he looked down at his hands before bringing them up to your cheek. You slightly flinched from the chill before nodding for him to continue his story. “I don’t remember th’ exact details, but jus’ say it was a failed mission.”
You looked at him up and down before sitting beside him.
“D’you still… love me?” He mumbled, almost soft enough that you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention.
You took a moment of silence before responding to his question. “Of course I do. You’re my husband, Boothill.”
To that he smiled and brought you into a strong kiss. One passionate and greedy- he’s been starved of you as you have of him for the past four months. Once he broke it off, you both connected your foreheads before going back into a full blown make out session.
Your pregnancy is incredibly taxing for the cyborg to handle. Instead of flesh and blood he has metal. He can’t feel you, and to him, it’s the worst feeling in the world. He truly wishes he could turn back time to right before the night of the accident.
He wishes he was able to return home safe, so he could be there for your whole pregnancy. He basically missed the entire first trimester!
At this point, you marked 32 weeks. Your pregnancy was very noticeable and Boothill took a lot of pride in being alongside you, shedding his insecurities as soon as he left the house.
He’s always been a very clingy man. He’s always wanted your touch and attention whenever he’d get home from whatever it was he’d do for work during the day, and he’d always receive it.
But now, he needs to use his head to feel you. He’s always found lying down on your stomach in his free time, so he can feel his child. He is unable to feel kicks with any other parts of his body, so he relies on that.
“‘Hill, I need to go to the bathroom. You might need to move in a second here-” you started, but he looked up at you and began to speak over you.
“Alright, alright… but’cha better come right back, please?”
You nodded before shuffling out of the bed, motioning for him to get up and help you off of the mattress and up on your feet. Once he easily pulls you up, he flops back down as he watches you close the door connected to your room.
He thought hard in those two minutes you were gone. Very hard. To the point he thought he was going to have a breakdown.
He regretted everything. He regretted engaging in the enemy's tricks. He regretted leaving you lonely for so long. And what he regrets most is returning to you like this.
A hunk of metal, who can be destroyed as many times as possible. He’ll always be able to have his body replaced. His head and hair were the only human thing about the man.
He believes you deserve so, so much better. You deserve a man who can live his life to the fullest and actually be able to be there for you during your vulnerable times, and not let grief get in the way. You deserve someone capable of giving you more children in the future, and he believes your baby deserves a dad who can be there for him and be normal.
He might even be worried about judgment. He’s not sure. He feels so emotional yet so dull at the same time.
“Boothill? Is everything alright? You’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past minute,” you said from next to him. How did he not even realize your presence?
“Hah? Yea, I’m fine. How’re ya’ feeling?” He says in his usual tone, trying to swiftly play off his thoughts not even ten seconds ago. “How’s baby doin’ in there?”
You let out a soft giggle before placing your hand on his cold knee. “We’re well. I’m concerned about what just happened with you though. Tell me, what is on your mind?”
The man sighs and shakes his head before resting it back on your belly. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty head off about.” He simply left it at that and nothing more.
When it came time for labor, he was truly nervous. Every attempt he made at trying to make physical contact with you in that time failed, because his hands were either too hard or too cold. He backed off and watched from the sidelines as you brought his little baby girl into the world.
He so desperately wanted to hold her, and you could see the urge in his eyes. She looked so much like him. She had his gorgeous silky black and white hair with your eyes. He thought she was an angel brought from heaven.
Once he finally got to hold her, he was told to keep her swaddled in the blanket she was wrapped in. All was well until she started crying due to the cold of his arms, and the baby was taken off into tests before he could even blink.
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neil-gaiman · 6 days
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Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
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Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
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kiss-me-muchoo · 5 months
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𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one: I knew you were trouble // part two: would’ve could’ve should’ve
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_The Capitol's Dream girl was depressed. After Snow broke her heart and returned only to haunt her. It only takes an official marriage proposal on New Year's Day, an interview with Lucky Flickerman and a rebel bombing to completely break you, and make Snow realize there's a place for one last person to love for the rest of his life.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ 10k words fic ups, reader is depressed, blood, violence, angst, tears, drama, reader makes some cruel things, antidepressants, nothing wild but they have sex so mdni 18+ , Snow actually loves reader (well idk). I couldn't add anything about the games of Mags SORRY.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_main song for this is Would've Could've Should've, song added to my Coryo Copito's playlist. Also, listen to the 1 and memory lane!!!
♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
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Nights were longer now. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of the games, how you contributed. The vivid image of the first time you saw Clemensia after the snake bite. Your mind made you recreate Sejanus being hanged in District 12. And finally, your mind also made you replay every moment you had with Coriolanus Snow since you met him at 17.
You wished you never asked to sit with him at lunch. You wished you never asked to see him again.
He would've been just another classmate. If the things that happened in the 10th Hunger Games were meant to be, at least you wouldn't have been involved.
It wouldn't have hurt you enough to feel so miserable in the present.
But this was as good as it was going to get.
You weren't the best driver, but since very few people had a car, you dared to take the one your chauffeur was meant to. It distracts you from staring at the window and overthinking.
Sometimes you wonder how it would've turned out if Snow won the prize without being a mentor, just like it was planned to happen. Would you have made a stop at his place? For him to get inside your car and kiss you good morning. Then drive to the University of the Capitol? Could've been fun.
But you made your way alone. Only listening to the music that played on the radio.
And you wondered what would've happened if Arachne was alive, Sejanus too, and Clemensia was fine to take classes in person. Would they have made fun of you and Snow entering University holding hands? Could've been sweet.
But again, you were alone. It's a cloudy day at The Capitol. Your long emerald green coat gets stuck with the car door. You roll your eyes, opening the damn door once again to set free the piece of fabric.
You started wearing high heels. It made you look taller and you loved the sound every time you stepped out of your home. Your mother had launched a new collection, and she loved seeing you wearing her creations.
For the record, you haven't seen Coriolanus Snow since the day you had your first counselor appointment. That was a month ago, and it was… great.
Actually, it wasn't, but yeah…
A lot of people greeted you, but none were your friends. You see, the University isn't very different compared to the Academy. The same architecture, and familiar faces that no longer wear the red uniform. And even so, you feel like a fish out of water.
Life isn't perfect. But you weren't ready to start your young adult days feeling so out of breath.
"Y/n!…" you turn to encounter Persephone. A sweet girl from the Academy.
"Persephone. Hi…" You do your best to smile. She was a classmate from the Academy. And she never was your friend but you always thought she was so sweet.
"How have you been? You're all over the news" For the first time in weeks you giggle, feeling a little blushed. The feeling of someone asking you how you were doing felt so good.
"I've had better days. But here we are… And you?" She tilts her head.
"I visited my grandma's lake house in District 4. It was so good. I heard you're in the science and law program" you nod. You also knew Persephone was on the law program.
"Yeah, you're in law too…."
"Is Coriolanus going to be there too?" You stop smiling.
In fact, you weren't sure. But probably he would also be in law. Tigris once said he wanted to pursue politics.
"I'm not sure… We-…we don't talk anymore" she gasped in shock.
"What? Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were…"
"No. But it's fine. He must be doing great…" you cut her off before she can ask more questions.
Your first class was okay. Until Snow walked in, wearing a perfect dark blue suit. His silly hair looked slightly longer than the last time you saw him, but still, nothing compared to his messy hair from months ago. You pretend you didn't see him, opting to keep writing something in your journal. But he had to stop beside you. There are some minutes of silence, but nothing would make you turn to knowledge of his presence.
"Can I sit with you?" His voice is colder again. You can notice through a little glimpse of a white rose decorating his suit. But you keep your eyes set on the page in front of you.
And you know you won't fail again.
"No."
He can feel the venom in your voice.
"I'm sitting here." He says after all.
You really don't have time to tear up on the first day of University. You want to stand up and leave, but you're so mature that you won't say anything else.
At least, for the rest of the class, he doesn't say anything else, but you know he occasionally turns to see you.
"Is it gonna be like this forever?" He asks when it's over. You dare to see him in the eyes, enchanting blue as always. But the young man in front of you isn't the boy you met. And yet, he still made your heart beat like he was the same who was once your lover.
"I don't have time for this. Have a nice day, Snow'' he looks as you leave the classroom. His hands shook, and that feeling of guilt assaulted him once again. You are the proof alive of all the pain he caused. So he needs to have you back on his side, so he can feel some humanity remaining in him after all the things he did months ago. Because he knows there's no good left on him, but he can't get rid of you like he did with Sejanus, Highbottom… and Lucy Gray.
You were meant for him. But he was so infatuated with the other girl. And Snow was aware that you deserve the best. You were his ally since day one. So having you by his side again… would seal his imaginary pact.
He looks at you and sees the girl that gave him the chance of his life. He promised his grandma'am you would be the girl he would give a home and a family.
But now, every time he asked Tigris how you were, she avoided giving details. grandma'am was growing suspicious that things weren't going great. Tigris had been a lot of times on your house and mother's shows. Your father would ask for Coriolanus but he didn't know all the things the young man did to his daughter.
So Tigris would say he was still serving as a peacekeeper. And you, you would say you haven't talked a lot with him.
Not anymore. Coriolanus would try every day. As he denied he loved you, he pretended he needed you as you were the one. Just that.
"Y/n y/l/n." Suddenly a peacekeeper comes to you.
"Yes?" You ask politely.
"Dr. Gaul demands your presence in her laboratory" you sigh. Of course, she would be the first to ask to see you.
It was the same laboratory. Only that now was near. The way to get there was slow, even peaceful. Maybe because the day was almost over.
The first thing you notice is how many empty water tanks are scattered.
"There you are, Ms. Y/l/n" she appears from the crystal stairs at the end of the room. Wearing a yellow set that made her eyes more bright. Her hair is the same. Looking as evil and cynic as always.
"Dr. Gaul" you greet. Stopping some feet away from her.
"A school new year means new planning ahead" You nod. Already hearing what she was about to say. Well, not entirely.
"The last games were a mess. Between the rebels and Mr. Snow's bright decisions. Our central ideas couldn't be fulfilled. However, I decided to give him another chance, there's so much potential in that boy" You don't know how to feel about that. So you just remain quiet.
"Speaking of the devil…" when you turned back, Snow was walking towards you and the woman near you. Immediately you avoided his eyes, knowing he was probably looking at your dress. The coat was long gone, leaving a soft and accentuating pink dress with long sleeves.
He knew it was inappropriate. But ever since he gained your trust and his feelings of attachment to you, he had a long time to accept he had a thing for your hips. The dress was extremely simple but looked elegant with some bright exotic earrings, and it was your body that created the most attractive shape he'd ever seen.
And soon, his view of you became sided.
"I believe I don't need to remind you of your actions from the last games, Mr. Snow," the woman said.
"It won't happen again." He answered with confidence.
"I know it won't happen again," Gaul says laughing. Making you wonder how much time she had been trying to get into the position she was now.
"This year, let's say you'll be under probation, Mr.Snow. On the other hand, Ms. y/l/n. Another year and another success from you" his eyes were on you again. Turned to his left without shame. And that's when Snow remembered since he came back from District 12 how smart you were. Without saying anything, even avoiding it, you knew he had cheated on the games. And probably, without talking to him anymore, you knew he wasn't a good man.
Only that…slowly, you were also turning into a bad woman.
"Those water creatures are fully developed. They're nothing compared to the snakes from last year. This new invention has marked a new era for us…" To be honest, you don't know how to feel about it. Everything related to the games made you remember your dear friend Sejanus Plinth. He would've hated this creation from you. But on the bright side, this was your future. These were the constant obstacles you would have if you were to achieve success.
"Dr. Gaul. An emergency message has been sent to y/n y/l/n" Immediately you turned confused looking at a new peacekeeper. When you look at your mentor, she nods, indicating to you that you're allowed to leave.
"Excuse me." As you walk away, another peacekeeper has a cable phone. One of the newest wireless ones. Red and shiny, silently beeping. You can hear Snow asking Dr. Gaul something, but the sound of your heels is loud enough to make it difficult to understand as you reach the phone
The peacekeeper hands the cable phone. You pick up, feeling your heart pounding.
"Hello?" The low breathing of your mother can be heard.
"Darling! Something bad happened…"
"What?" You ask. And you don't know but Snow is trying so hard to listen to your conversation.
"Our mines in District 12. Your father made a little trip there with some friends. The people caused a revolt. They bombed the mines." You frown, in shock. Already feeling anger building up in your chest.
"Is pa' okay?" She sighs, which stresses you more.
"Some burns. The peacekeepers saved him on time" Snow listens to Gaul but he literally has an ear on you and the other in the mentor.
"Is it too bad? Like… putting our wealth in danger?" You whisper the last sentence. Your mother is a proud woman. But in the privacy of her family, she allowed herself to be vulnerable.
"I don't know, darling. We still have the mines in District 1. But the ones on the 12 represented greater materials" There's no time to cry and you know it.
So after some soothing words to your mother, you hang up. And you're not thinking clearly. You just know you're angry, and convinced someone had to pay. If you started disliking District 12 after the last games, now it was getting personal.
When you go back to stand beside Snow. You hear Gaul explaining to him how most of the lessons would go. But as soon as she turns back to you, there's an idea that leaves your mouth before you can breathe or blink.
"I was about to say that we should change the arena of the games. Each year it should change, like the seasons. Wasting the opportunity to use the water mutts sounds like a waste of potential for the views. If we still want a spectacle like the one from last year." The woman analyses your words. And after some seconds of silence, she speaks.
At the same time, Snow can't comprehend how poisonous you sound. He knew the call enraged you, it must've been bad.
"Then I'll ask you to find some suggestions for the arena"
"And… I have some ideas for this year Reaping" the woman's evil smile grows. She knows she's turning two young adults into monsters.
"I can't wait till Summer of next year" Gaul giggles, then lets you go, commenting that the next day the actual lessons would begin.
You sigh once she leaves. Finally acknowledging what you just did. Dooming a bunch of kids to fight for their lives with those water monsters. You remember Sejanus. The way he screamed in anger when his tribute was punished for trying to escape.
You're also a monster.
Snow turns to your side, looking as if you have just been cut with something, and he's searching for the wound.
"Are you okay? What happened?" he asks worriedly, caressing your forearm.
"Your beloved district 12. That's what happened." You spit with venom, squirming away from him.
Your harshness takes all over the place as you move away from him.
It's New Year's Day. A bright morning, and you already have your first guest. Clemensia Dovecote.
She still wears turtlenecks. But the gloves are gone. You can't stop smiling after seeing her smile and laugh as she drinks tea on your patio.
"I can't believe it worked, y/n," she says changing the subject. The first dose you gave her was after the games, in late summer. And now, at the peak of winter, Clemensia looked amazing. The cracked and raspy yellowish skin she had, the bright yellow eyes that contrasted her dark brown irises, all of that was mostly gone.
"To be honest, me neither…" you admit smiling proudly. Her skin looked slightly covered in scales, but the texture was soft. Like a snake that shines with a new layer of skin. Her eyes were still a little yellow, but the white was coming back.
"How did you come up with it? The treatment and everything?" you gulp nervously, sipping at your tea. If you opened your mouth, there would be no turning back.
Clemmie knew Snow had cheated, she swore to keep quiet about it. She knew about his exile. But she didn't know everything.
Then you thought you owed nothing to Snow. He owed you a lot, and yet, the way he paid was… cruel.
The only thing you were not in your right to share was about… the boy he killed. And as you'd never know he killed many more, Clemmie wouldn't either.
"He chose her. The songbird" Clemensia's eyes widened, she left the cookie she was about to eat.
"No…" you nod, confirming your words.
"Yes. During the games… he sacrificed everything for her. When I confronted him, he said nothing. After he was exiled, he committed a bribe to ensure his service as a peacekeeper on the 12" you spit with hate. The pride you carried each day, had a big crack thanks to that man, and like broken porcelain, it would never be healed.
"But he only had eyes for you… The Christmas after you arrived here, I asked him out and he said he had eyes on someone else. I can't believe him…" you giggle, rolling your eyes.
"He only had eyes for my money and father's position. He had the chance to win the prize and got obsessed with winning something by himself. The girl was just the cherry on top" You quickly added more as you were about to reveal he was… poor. Not because of him, but for Tigris and her grandmother. Tigris would lose her job and your mother would likely turn her down. So no, you weren't as bad as Snow yet.
"After he left. I realized how much he traced the scar on my face. I simply started hating it. And sooner I dreamed I had it gone. So I thought… Why can't I make something for my dear Clemensia and myself at the same time?" The black haired inspected your face.
"Your scar…" she remembered your face back then. The long pink line across your face. Clemensia did once see Snow caressing your face, his thumb traced the line across your nose until it landed on your lips.
Not it was just a memory as your scar. It was gone. Your face is clean, shiny, and perfect. Too bad that just your face was able to get rid of the touch of Snow.
You can't tell her he asked you to marry him. That was embarrassing enough to say it out loud.
"That's now the boy I knew. He had always been a little cold but… he was good. Now… I just can't stand what he did to you. And while I'll thank you for the rest of my life, you helped with my condition. I will ever feel sorry that you came up with it from such pain" Maybe before the bite, Clemmie was a little narcissistic. And her ambition led her to lie and get bitten. But now, she was all about being thankful and seeking peace everywhere.
"It's okay, Clemmie. Even after all, with Sejanus gone, all of what happened last summer… I'm happy that I have you" she smiles, offering you a big hug.
"Yeah, you won't get rid of me next year" She was officially coming back to class at the University after the winter break was over. Now Snow wouldn't be able to sit next to you.
"I won't mind…" Suddenly your mother comes out from one of the many balconies of your house.
"Girls! The stylist is here!" She lets you and Clemmie know.
This year, the annual New Year's Day will be at your house. The patio where you had breakfast and tea with your friend was already decorated with long tables. Porcelain plates are perfectly accommodated with wine velvet bows decorating them.
Clemensia's father talks with you about the revolt in District 12 and the burns he got. After that… more peacekeepers were sent. And slowly… the whole territory was becoming marginalized.
You ignore it, you only have eyes for the dress writing you on the other side.
When you open the door of your room, there it is.
A golden dress. Shinny and full of sequined beats. With metallic gold puffy fabric resting on your lower half back and ending around your wrists. Bare shoulders style.
You feel bad for not asking Tigris to style you, but she was already busy.
"I... I can't believe this…" you gasp, touching the elegant fabric of the dress. Clemmie can't stop saying how beautiful the dress is.
"With red lipstick and burnt pink eyeshadows… it'll look fantastic," the stylist says to your mother, already visualizing the look.
The patio is full of people. Elegant bonfires make everyone warm. Most of the guests look at your dress as you greet them. The last guests were Tigris and her grandmother, you placed them both in a table full of fashion contacts of your mother.
Clemmie is talking with Festus, Persephone, and other classmates.
Everything goes well until you set your eyes on the garden's entrance and you spot Snow entering.
Your eyebrows immediately frown. The night had been peaceful. And ever since winter break started, you haven't heard of him.
Why did he have to come? Was it for his grandmother?. Doesn't matter, you don't want him in your house.
He spots you and knows you just turned angry. You grab him by the arm and pull him away.
"What are you doing here?" You ask annoyed.
"You invited Tigris and Grandma'am" he shrugs.
"Yes. Tigris and Grandma'am. Not Tigris, Grandma'am, and Coriolanus" For the first time in months, you say his name.
"I have to talk to your father," he admits. You are confused, but he won't say anything yet.
"You look lovely tonight" You ignore the praise in his voice. But he genuinely believes you look astronomically beautiful. Snow was trying to act confident, but deep down he was nervous.
And it worsened when your dad interfered.
"Coriolanus. I'm glad you made it on time. Just an hour away till the countdown" you turn to see your father, offering him a glass of champagne. Neither of you should be drinking yet. But the elite of The Capitol was allowed to break the rules a little.
"No, of course I couldn't. I was just saying how gorgeous y/n looks tonight" your father smiles. You knew your father was believing Snow, that he was a gentleman.
"My one and only child. Perfect as always…" your father answers, putting his arm around your shoulders.
"I would like to discuss something with you. In private…" your heart beats faster.
"Be my guest, boy…" he tells him to enter the party. And as they leave you feel nauseous.
There are twenty minutes left till New Year's Day. Your father hasn't come out with Coriolanus yet. You nervously want to chew your nails. But you do your best for Clemmie. It was her first public appearance since the summer.
You had been trained to satisfy The Capitol's expectations since you were a kid. You knew what you could and couldn't do.
But none had prepared you to hide your shock.
"Dear guests. Family and friends. I would like to give an announcement" Your father appears, the sound of the glass capturing everyone's attention.
"With a new year around the corner, changes are too."
It couldn't…
Snow walked through the tables, towards you.
No, no, no, no.
"It is my pleasure to announce the engagement between Coriolanus Snow and my only daughter, y/n"
You swear you can't breathe.
You don't see Clemmie's face of horror. Tigris is highly confused. Grandma'am at the verge of tears.
"For my darling and her fiancé. Whom I wish eternal luck and happiness" your father finishes the toast.
Snow is beside you, he's not happy either. But he is the first one to start acting for the sudden flashes and cheering.
"How couldn't you tell me you wanted to get married, dear?" Your father asks, being the first person to hug you.
Your shock is so big that you don't even remember smiling for the pictures. You don't remember feeling his hand around your shoulders. You don't remember bursting into the house.
Snow follows you. It's empty, everyone is cheering because the countdown is about to start.
He calls your name. But you don't listen. He follows you through the kitchen and living room.
"WHAT?" You explode before being able to go upstairs.
You see his desperate eyes.
"I didn't know your father was going to announce it that way." He notices your face is red from anger.
"Listen to me, Coriolanus Snow. NO MAN will come and take away the pride of the woman I am." You scream in his face. You won't go quiet like the first time.
"YOU WERE NOTHING!. YOU OWE ME YOUR LUCK!" Snow can only fix his eyes on the sequins of your dress. He had never seen you screaming like that. And nobody would hear anyway.
"If this was your way to make me surrender and get me back. You're so wrong. Because you are going to be in debt with me for the rest of your life. Unless you want a rebel wife like it was your beloved Lucy Gray Baird." His eyes widened at your sudden attack. He has to process every word, every disgusted face you are making. He hadn’t thought about the songbird in many days. Hearing her names sent chills to his spine.
"I wanted this to be different. I had to "You hate him. You can't stand seeing him in his perfect grey suit, his perfect hair and eyes. You really hate him.
"YOU HAD NOTHING!. IF YOU WERE GONNA HUMILIATE ME LIKE THAT, YOU HAD TO GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG TO MARRY ME!" Whisking away, he grabs your hand, and when you turn, you find him on his knees.
"Please…" you feel he placed the ring in your hand. And it's too much.
You slap him. And then run away to your room.
As you lock the door, you throw the ring. And when tears start streaming down like a waterfall, you hear the first fireworks.
There's a bottle of pills in your vanity. The treatment for your low mood. You only need it once in a day. But you take two hoping it would knock you out and make you forget about the night.
It's officially a new year.
Three weeks later, Lucky Flickerman is interviewing you and Snow in his late-night show. You can't stand how Snow is caressing your hand. The way he slightly giggles and smiles at you, whenever there is a silly question.
You only do this because nobody knows the truth. Just Clemensia and Tigris.
"Sources tell us that it'll be a spring wedding. Is that right, y/n?" The man asks. You sigh, smiling.
'We're not sure yet, Lucky. There are so many details. Especially with my dress. But my man here is patiently waiting" the interviewer laughs, throwing a sarcastic comment about the dress.
"And what about kids? Is a baby on the plans?" Immediately, both of you blush.
"Yes. We want to have kids one day" Snow hurries to answer. You want to laugh.
He would be a terrible father. Some days ago, he was at your house for a family gathering and while he liked seeing you with your baby cousins, he knew he wasn't good with them. He didn't know how to play or make them laugh. But he had to make everyone believe he was a man of family and marriage. Even when both of you were still nineteen.
"Oh. Well, you're still young. There's plenty of time, pair of lovebirds" You make the strength to turn and smile at Snow. He returns you the smile.
And he wants to believe it's an honest reaction from you. He really hates that everything happened this way. He wanted to wait personally and privately ask you to marry him again. Not like this.
"Y/n… How did you know Coriolanus was the one?" It takes you aback. You can't lie. There's a truth.
"When I met him, he made me feel comfortable. He was so sweet and he trusted me. He made it hard for me not to love him. He has these gorgeous ocean eyes, that every time I see him I get lost in them. It reminds me of the kind boy I met some time ago…" Everyone feels emotional. Coriolanus is aware of the real meaning behind your words, and he can't help but honestly smile. He knows he realized it, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.
"These ladies and gentlemen… is a couple in love!" Lucky laughs and points at you and Snow excited. And he says that he'll be back with the broadcast for the weather, he thanks you and your fiancé for being there.
"Take care, guys. Don't forget to invite me to the wedding!, I'll get some people inside to bring the news anyways…"
And finally, both of you are behind the set. You don't even glance at Snow. But he hurries to stop you, interfering in your way.
"I'm sorry. For everything…" you cross your arms.
"No. You hate me. That's why you keep doing this to me…"
Your assistant appears handing you a glass of water and a little plate of something Snow can't see.
"Here's some water and your antidepressants, miss" You blush and ignore the way your fiancé is looking.
As you walk away, Coriolanus only feels worse.
You stare at the public library. Now closed just for your wedding happening in a couple of hours.
There are white roses everywhere. Petition of your mother to commemorate Snow and his family. You hated it.
It ended up being a spring wedding. But a very cold one. By early June, summer would start. And for now, snowflakes still fell upon The Capitol.
"The dress is ready…" Tigris says, appearing on your side. She sees how you stare at the whole place with dismay.
"How could this happen?" She asks, wondering.
"My younger self would've loved this day. But now… is different" You didn't want to insult her cousin.
"His younger self would've also loved this" Tigris remembered how enchanted was Coriolanus for you. Saying that he made a rich friend who was so sweet. Soon he admitted you were gorgeous and delicate. Now forgetting to mention you only when Grandma'am asked.
"He's trying to get you back," Tigris adds. And you question it.
Ever since the engagement. He always reached for you. Asking how you were. The kisses on the cheek to greet you. Felt honest. But you doubted you would ever forgive him. Even if you ended up having his children someday…
"I know it won't change anything. But I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this…" the young woman lamented. After you confessed most of the things Snow did to you, she added that to her list. And slowly, Tigris had slightly brushed aside her cousin.
"I didn't. But what's pissing me off is the wedding night" Tigris coughed awkwardly. And you rolled your eyes.
"No, Tigris. It's not about the sex. It's about me having to leave my house forever. I refuse…" She relaxed.
Honestly, you hadn't thought about sex. You knew it would happen anytime after marrying. But you wouldn't give Snow the satisfaction to even give hints.
At least, your father suggested Snow temporarily move in with you in your room since his new penthouse would be only for Tigris and grandmother. He would sleep in your tub.
"It's a great place for a honeymoon. Capitol's north is full of mountains, fancy restaurants, and actual snow" Somehow, you laugh.
"Fitting for my new legal name" Tigris joins you and laughs, hugging you tightly.
You stare at the flowers, and the hundreds of seats, and you aren't ready. But there's a smile on your face. Because at that point you don't even care.
Coriolanus was alone. He thinks Sejanus could've been there. Annoying and smiley as always, but he would've been the best man. Chosen by him because there wasn't another option. But it's only him. Staring at his mother's ring.
Pure gold, a medium size rectangle-shaped diamond. Shining ridiculously in white and small rainbows.
You look just like your father on his wedding day.
Your mother was so happy. Spinning and laughing as your father danced with her.
Remember. As you take a wife, you are choosing a life partner. You have to remember every morning why you chose her. You have to respect and protect her. Give her a home, a warm place to grow old together.
Y/n is the perfect woman for you. She's so lucky to have you, my boy.
All of those things, Grandma'am had said to him as she handed the ring.
And now sitting alone in a room. Suit ready, in black, and very little gold details in the white shirt under. Tigris said it was going to match your dress.
Your father actually loved your mother, Coriolanus. Treat her right. That is the least you could do…
She knew. Tigris had to know everything.
Coriolanus wondered how you would look. A princess-style dress? Maybe velvet? And he imagined your face.
That's when he can't take it anymore. He cries. Because everything was going to be a lie. He cries because it could've been true. If only he had made better decisions. If only you weren't so smart that you discovered him.
He's a broken man.
But he grips the ring on his palm. Wiping the tears and deciding that he's never going to fail you again. As he knew you had never failed him. And even when you hated him, neither you would.
There are three mirrors. Your hands trace the shiny beats of your dress. From the strips to your breasts, to your waist and hips. The end was full of them. Combining gold, and even dark brown or grey. It was simple, slightly sheer. But extremely elegant. Made with crystals from your family's mines. Representative of your native District 1. Your hair is down, perfectly cut in that shag haircut you had when you were a teen. It fits perfectly with your veil. Also covered in tiny pieces of crystals that cover your head, to the tail of the dress.
You looked like a Capitol's bride.
And for some reason, you can't find the tears. It's just you staring at the mirrors. Accepting your doomed life.
As you open the door, you know there are already tears on everyone but you.
Clemensia, Persephone, your mother, and Tigris sob and look at you in shock.
"Oh my god, my baby. You look perfect!" Your mother cries, caressing your cheeks and sobbing. You smile at her, just that.
They keep talking about the dress when you hear a knock followed by the door of the room opening.
"Is there any time for this old woman to see the bride?" Tigris smiles at her grandmother, inviting her to join.
"There's only ten minutes left. Everyone hurry!" Your mother says. They exaggerate, only Tigris gives you one last retouch, and hands you the bouquet. With white roses and some lilies scattered.
She kisses your cheek and smiles deeply.
"It's gonna be fine. I swear…" and with that, she leaves.
Grandma'am only looks at you with love. She always liked you for his grandson. And she believed love floated around you two. For the record, she said it two weeks ago in a rehearsal you had.
"I knew it from the first day my little Coriolanus came home rambling about you" she smiles.
"And from that day, it always had been you, my dear. Even today… always saying you are the love of his life" Your eyes water. Coriolanus wouldn't lie to his grandma about something like that. He could lie about killing someone but not about something he knew would make her happy.
"He did?" You ask as she takes your hand.
"Of course. I know I'm old, and I can't tell he has committed some errors. But I know those blue always are so in love with you, my child" That couldn't be.
"Do you love him?" You won't cry. But you're fighting the lump in your throat.
"I do. Ever since the first day…" you admit.
Maybe you would always resent the man you were going to marry. But you would always love the memory of the boy you once had.
"Promise me you will make him happy, dear. He has so little when we lost everything once. Take care of him. Give him a family, that's all I ask" You can't say no to her. You just can't.
"I promise." She hugs you. And you swallow the lump, looking at the door.
The moment had arrived. The doors opened, the music started and everyone turned back to see you entering by the hand of your father.
Sounds of shock, admiring, and more are very low but noticeable.
For Coriolanus, it's only you. Your hair was like when you met him. The dress is so perfect. Your makeup too. And he promises to keep the image of you in his mind for the rest of his life.
He genuinely smiles. And you are feeling so confused. Could his grandmother have been telling the truth?
Coriolanus actually loved you? The way he had been smiling and treating you for the past months. Had he really been feeling sorry?
Would you forgive him if that was the case?
You can't tell because your father has dropped you at the altar.
You didn't even feel his kiss on the head and promised good luck.
You just feel Snow taking your hand. It's warm, even soft for his calloused hands.
And you can't turn to see him.
There are many people taking pictures of you and him.
Everyone loved the Capitol's Dream Girl and her handsome wealthy fiancé ever since the engagement.
When you last expected it, you are officially Mrs. Snow.
"You may kiss the bride…" you know he's doubting. But there's no time, so you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him.
It takes him aback, but soon, his hands find that damn spot, in your hips. And it doesn't feel wrong, for some reason.
You just see him and you realize he's your man now.
Neither of you can understand the emotions flowing at the moment. You like seeing him smiling at you like that, but you also feel sad. And he loves the way you look, he feels so attached to you.
In other words, both feel like it was real. But both knew the truth.
You don't dare to eye any of your family or friends as you leave by the hand of your now husband.
The reception was just as big as the ceremony. With the most elegant music, food of all kinds, and a varied menu.
Your husband has chosen to give the option of fish florentine, mentioning to you that his uncle used to get the best food from District 4 before the war.
For you, it was fried steak with three types of cheese and coated with mushroom cream.
There's a picture for everyone. You and Snow enter the party. Your father says a little speech about how much of a great marriage you would have.
You dance with your baby cousins. Lucky Flickerman was able to ask about your dress and possible honeymoon location.
You ignore your husband for the rest of the night. Only when the cake has to be sliced. It's a 5 layer cake, covered in white and very little baby pink roses. Snow and you agreed to make it white chocolate with raspberries and cream.
He cleans some cream from your cheek, and before you can even think about it, you laugh.
He danced with you but you only decided to hear his heartbeats, instead of seeing him. It made you understand that lonely days were over. But at what cost?
That night, you are already seeing the mountains and green woods covered in white at the top. You sigh, looking at the metallic silk nightgown. You didn't want the traditional white or pink silk gown. This was short, offered some cleavage, it shined in orange and pink tones when it was supposed to be lavender.
During the whole hour trip to the residence of the honeymoon, you didn't say anything to him.
When you come out of the bathroom, he's sitting at the edge of the bed. A dark grey robe on him and you wonder if he was naked too.
Ignoring him, you go to the giant vanity in front of the bed.
You try to focus on the plenty of assignments you'll have after the honeymoon. With less than three months before the next games, your water mutts had already killed a person. Gaul only laughed and insisted on you to feed the beasts with the corpse.
Little did everyone know that on the Reaping day, District 12 people would receive a tiny stain of liquid Mercury on their ballot. Within months of inhaling that thing, they would be sick. It was your revenge for the revolt in the mines that almost killed your father.
But for now, you can only feel his eyes on you. Like the first day of school. You know he wants to touch you. He wants to claim you as his wife. But he doesn't have the right.
So he stays seated, hoping you will make the first move.
Ignoring the way your heart beats, wanting to feel something. Your heart was blind, thinking you could make love with Coriolanus.
Once you have finished with your facial cream. You turn off the light. Only the balcony offered some glimpses.
You step between his legs, hands on his shoulders. The smell of tobacco leaf and vanilla bean perfume hits him, making him gulp. Unsure whether to touch you or not.
"Wait, y/n… Are you-… Are you sure?" He asks, unsure of what is happening. He kind of thanked you for turning off the lights. That way you couldn't see how blushed he was. After all, this was going to be his first time. After actual years of desiring you, he gets to have you for the rest of his life.
Then you lean, inches away from his lips.
" I don't want to hear you" and you don't say more, neither does he. In the darkness, he finds your lips and there's plenty of time to kiss you slowly. With wet sounds, your hands fly to his hair. Making him moan for the first time. It shouldn't be turning you on. But it is, so you slightly move your head, and maybe he understood, 'cause he started kissing your jaw, soon your neck.
He feels you pulling out the nightgown, and it's making him so fucking hard.
You kiss him again and he's free to wander across your naked body. Now his…
It's his first time, just like it is yours. So when he tries to touch you past your lower belly, you guide him.
Softly making him slide his fingers across your wet folds. You moan and he thinks it's the most erotic thing he's ever heard in his life. He knows you are skilled even when it's also your first time. He knows because of your timing, the way you swayed your hips any time you walked, and the way you balanced touching him and moaning at the same time.
Before you, he rarely touched himself or thought about sex. But soon after kissing you for the first time, he would hate himself for thinking how you would look underneath the Academy uniform.
And now, there you were, naked, taking his virginity as you slowly rode him. You swear he has to be big enough to be able to feel him and his details inside you. The pacing was so soft yet hard. Soft because of your slick, hard because of the pleasure.
All you could hear was his sighs, but the stars of the night were your moans and little yelps for him. No words exchanged, just the sound of your desire and his response.
And when you start going faster, holding onto him as if your life depended on it, he was over the edge to say it. But he couldn't.
Your first time should've been with him on top. Tigris said it was traditional. But he let you take the lead, and it was turning out better. You even let him paint your walls with his cum. You let him kiss and suck your nipples as he felt the last spasms of his climax, prolonged by the way you squeezed him.
Even with the silence, both of you knew. It was the hardest and best orgasm of your life.
At the outsides of The Capitol, there's an office. All University students needed to submit their petition to graduate two years prior to the ceremony. Gaul demanded you and Snow to go as soon as you returned from the honeymoon.
Now, two months married, you feel slightly lighter. You talked a little bit more with him. Breakfasts were quiet but peaceful. At the University he always tried to protect you.
The news was all about the wedding. Saying it was the event that officially marked the end of the war. People loved you and encouraged your husband to pursue a political party to start campaigns, hoping to win the presidency. As for you, rumors had spread that you were going to be the next game maker of Panem. Evenings were to study and go for some walks. And most of the nights you repeated the same formula. Ending up tangled in your bed with the darkness reigning.
You couldn't help but wonder if something had changed.
Coriolanus Snow was still cold, serious, a man of few but harsh words. But to you, he seemed warm. Like if fucking him had made him switch and now he was eating out from the palm of your hand.
Still, you still felt like the past was haunting you. With memories of the last games and the moment you lost your lovely blonde guy.
"It's done," Snow says coming out of a private office. The green tiles stop being attractive to your eye, making you blink twice to stare at your husband.
He's yours, just like you wanted. With his perfect eyes, perfect smile, hair, body, and dream life.
You sigh with relief. He had insisted on submitting both papers to soothe you from stress.
"We are likely to receive a letter next year. The woman said it was basically approved for us…" you nod. He offers you a sweet smile, that you can't help but reply.
He offers you his arm to take, ready to leave the office.
Lately, Coriolanus has been worried for you. The antidepressant treatment was over, but you were under pressure because you had created the arena and strategies for the 11th Hunger Games. People debated your capacity and ideals. And he knew that would stress you.
He was patiently trying to make you feel comfortable on his side. To make you feel again like you said in the interview with Flickerman.
"Thank you." You say to him.
"Of course."
After taking the elevator, you two are ready to walk out. Until there's a loud explosion near. You exchange looks with your husband, and as he squeezes your hand tighter, what feels like another explosion makes you and Snow fly away.
When he opens his eyes, the building is literally on fire. He reacts quickly, realizing there has been another bombing.
He's okay, just his neck hurts, but there's no blood. It's you who's worrying him a lot.
He calls your name but you don't respond.
Through the ashes and hazes of dust, he looks out for you.
A few feet away, you are coughing, lying on the ground.
He runs and kneels beside you.
"Y/n, please. Can you hear me?" You nod slowly, barely moving.
"I-can't breathe…" Snow sees how your nose bleeds and there are some glasses making your arm shake a little. The sleeve of your cardigan is drenched in blood.
He panics and goes into a full panic attack. Not even when he was in the arena and got hurt. He truly feared losing you.
"I'm taking you out of here" he looks around and notices there's no one around.
He carries you, doing his best to run out of the increasing fire.
"I don't want to die, Coriolanus" you gasp, trying to breathe. He looks down at you, now looking at the dirt in your face.
"You won't die, love. Just calm down and breathe" In fact he knows you could die. But he refuses to accept it as he finds the exit of the building.
There's chaos on the streets.
And in the middle of the disaster, he starts asking for help.
"Please… I need an ambulance for my wife!" He pleads to some people who seem to be helping a group of kids.
A woman listens and calls for a man.
"Help is coming, y/n. Do not close your eyes" The rush in him impeded him from crying. Because he was so freaked out.
"Mr. Snow, I'm a doctor. I'll help your wife get into a hospital" A middle-aged man gets closer, inspecting your face. You can't hear anything. Your eyes close by themselves, and you still feel so out of breath.
It's the sound of the ambulance that works as a lullaby and makes you pass out.
It's uncertain. But reliable sources said it was a direct target from rebel allies, a direct target to you. Because the next game maker needed to be erased from Panem before she could even start. Snow is shockingly angered. And he adds another point to his hate for rebellion.
"I won't quit." You affirm from the hospital bed. Your mother frowns.
"I don't think you're understanding the seriousness of this situation, y/n" she suggests, to which your father also nods.
The door opens and Coriolanus enters, hurried to inspect you.
"Are you Okay? The doctor said it wasn't that bad but-" you smile, caressing his shoulder.
"I'm fine. Just inhaled too much smoke. And my arm, but that's it" You show him your left arm covered in gazes.
He kisses your forehead.
"I was so afraid," he whispers in your ear.
And maybe it was all about your emotions after the shocking day. But you finally feel it. You love him. And the way he had acted since the engagement made you believe he could possibly feel the same. But you aren't sure.
"I won't quit. That would only give the rebels a point. I will make this games memorable. And nobody in Panem will ever question my methods" Your words shouldn't have made your husband proud. But it does.
"You're so right, dear," he says, making you smile nervously.
You are allowed to leave the hospital that night. And the whole ride, you have to fight the tears. You can't take it anymore.
As soon as you get inside your room. Coriolanus starts running the tub to clean you up.
You get on your knees. Your throat already feels as if you were choking. He spots you on your carpet, looking so vague and lost.
"Please, Coriolanus." He's watching you carefully. And by your face, he feels you are about to say something from the bottom of your heart.
"What? Are you in pain?" He asks scared, kneeling in front of you. You don't answer and that terrifies him. Until you do.
"Tell me you are in love with me. Just once, doesn't matter if you never say it again for the rest of my life. If you mean it, say you love me." Tears start flowing, your face turns red, and Coriolanus can't help but feel vulnerable by seeing like that.
"Because if you say you only insisted on marrying me because of the money, and my father's position… I'm gonna hate you till the day I die. For all you did to me and everything that could've been" he has to close his eyes. To not see you as a tear falls without a warning from his left eye. He has to decide. Is he going to break his promise? He said he couldn't love anyone again. But you weren't new. You were the first. She was the last.
Coriolanus wished to be your boyfriend soon after meeting you. And from waiting for the right moment to ask, he ended up ruining everything for his ambition. From believing she was different, that she was worth it. Ignoring all the pain he caused to you.
And until that moment he realized he had almost obligated you to marry him.
He already had what he wanted. The money and his power were growing, and he had the girl.
Crying on her knees in front of him. Asking him to end her pain. Just by loving her after all the pain he caused her.
Slowly, he reaches for your face. Your sobs became almost silent. Your heart was beating so fast. And if Coriolanus didn't speak now, you would end up having a second mental breakdown.
But he caressed your cheeks. And he traced your face. Where your scar should've been. New waves of tears fall as you feel what he's doing. Only making shut your eyes harder.
"Look at me, y/n" you can't. You're not ready to hear him saying he used you once again.
"I can't." You whisper, sobbing. He decided then to grab you by the waist. Being so gentle, made you feel like two years ago when he was still your lover.
He placed you carefully on the bed. Making you hide your face against the pillows, ruining the white satin with your makeup.
He doesn't care. He just wants to be honest. Real. He's still young. Coriolanus knows he can't live the rest of his life married to you, making you believe he never loved you.
Only you would be able to see who he really was. Even if he ended up having children with you someday. He would never love them like you.
He could be cold and his decisions would be considered cruel. But the only person on earth that would judge him was going to be you.
"Please look at me, y/n" he caresses your cheek, smiling softly. Slowly, you sit, facing him finally.
You can see your old and sweet Coriolanus with the smile he's giving you. And it only makes you cry and cry again.
"I love you."
You stop. Hiccuping, you look perplexed at him.
He's still smiling.
You know he killed two people, probably three.
You'd never know he sent Sejanus to be hanged.
You know he's not the best person.
You'd never know he had a letter he was going to send to you before going to District 12.
You know he caused you so much pain.
And yet you thought you'd never hear him saying those three words.
"I made you suffer. I ruined everything. You know what I did just by looking at my eyes. How can we love each other after all?" You shrug. Trying to control yourself and answer him properly.
"Maybe because we never got the chance to make it real." He chuckles, taking your hand.
"You know I also did cruel things this year." He nodded, having no right to judge you. He wondered if you did all of that from rage, for everything that happened.
"And I still believe you deserve the world, Capitol's dream girl…" he makes you laugh. Out of embarrassment from the silly nickname Flickerman gave you.
"My father was a bad man, and yet, he always treated my mom right. I can't promise I'll be perfect, but I will never hurt you again" You brush his hair. Dishevelling it in the process, making him look like a year ago.
"Promise me. Just you and I, getting each other's back" he says. And you know you'll go to hell for being with him. But he was the love of your life.
"Just you and I, my love" he smiles again.
"I'll make you First Lady of Panem one day. It'll fit better for your current nickname" you roll your eyes.
"What will we do with that much power?" He stares deeply into your eyes. You changed his hair, and he hoped he could still see the scar on your face. But it was gone. Just like the girl he met two years ago. So was the boy he was. But it was okay. Because he'd make you be like him. And nothing would matter more than you and him.
"Everything, dear" you smile. And feeling like teenagers again, both lean at the same time to kiss. Like it was the first time.
"Can I?…" he asks on your lips. You nod, hugging from his neck.
He kisses you finally. Soft, slow but demanding.
And you remember you made it. Your husband would have the power, but you just won control.
And for the next two weeks, during summer break, Coriolanus and you spent your days in District 1. Spending the days eating in the best restaurants, visiting museums, and swimming in private pools. Spending the nights exploring each other for the first time. He marked you his and you marked him yours. Watching the moon and forgetting about the university, moving into a new house, letting the past die.
Maybe the memory of Lucy Gray Baird would haunt Coriolanus for the rest of his life, but you were going to be there to turn it into haze. And maybe you would never forget the pain of losing thanks to him, but he would paint your days golden. He would be a good husband who would make it up each day.
The first day of your second year of University started differently. Coriolanus refused to learn to drive and refused to let you do it. But you convinced him it was okay.
You left home together. And arrived together on campus. Went through the stairs holding hands.
"Look, it's The Capitol's trendiest couple" Persephone, an old classmate from the Academy but also a new friend said. Festus, Clemmie, and other new friends were there, laughing and making fun of you and Coriolanus.
And you blushed. Abruptly stopping your steps. Your husband turned to see you.
"Everything is fine?" You nod, smiling.
"I just… This is exactly how I wanted to begin University last year" It made his heart clench.
"Only… he's missing it" Like a needle taking him aback, Coriolanus knew what you meant.
"He'd hate what we have become though" It's bad, but you laugh.
"You're right, dear" you agree with your husband.
"But happy for us…" he adds, and you nod. Grabbing his arm to finally enter the building.
Soon, two peacekeepers call you to Gaul's office, just like last year. She's not there. But there's a letter on her desk.
You exchange looks with Coriolanus. He tilts his head and follows you to the desk. Carefully, he grabs the envelope and opens it.
Students, as the summer ends, I hope you had a pleasant summer.
Congratulations on your success after the games, Mr and Mrs. Snow.
Given the circumstances of Dean Highbottom's death last year, I won't be able to begin with the preparation for the 12th Hunger Games.
I believe you two have gained enough knowledge to start without me.
You'll find materials in the backroom of my principal laboratory. You'll find it quite interesting.
Make me proud and you two will be the first and automatic option to replace me in a couple of years.
And keep in mind what I always ask. What are the games for?
Dr. Volumnia Gaul
No words are exchanged after reading the letter. Coriolanus only nods to you, agreeing to the message.
So you go to the principal laboratory. It's clean and the sound of different animals is the only sound inside.
There are two long tables, and it's obvious, that there are at least six corpses covered in white blankets.
When you pull away the blanket, you gasp in shock.
The corpses that were once humans now seemed a mix of animals.
Until you see what it is.
"Coryo. These are the corpses of the death tributes" You are shocked. He was also surprised.
"The mutt bite… transformed them?" Slowly, you nod. He hands you some gloves and a face mask
"Every year I end up creating something more vile" you admit touching the slimy skin of the corpses, turning dark and the human face blemished. Only a girl from District 4 had won Mags. A lot of people loved her. But the cheer wasn't very loud, thank you and your marriage.
"These were also the people who probably agreed on the bombs. They hate us, y/n" he's right.
"They need a yearly reminder that war is over. That we won and that you won't give up" You turn to face him. There's the anger and hate you disliked about him. But now you have plenty of reasons to agree with him.
"They deserve this."
"You're right"
He sees you making some tests to study the altered DNA and smiles. He was so fucked up.
"Don't stare, silly. Come here and help me. There's a lot to do" you say playfully. So he smirks mockingly and starts helping you.
"Maybe we could have some resting after this" he suggests, you laugh.
"Here? With deformed corpses? I don't think so, dear"
"Not here. We can go to the private ladies' room." Sometimes you made fun of him for having the kind of a pervert teenager. Ever since you decided to make up with him, Coriolanus and you were the biggest switching couple in the history of sex.
"Oh, my goodness. Can you behave for once, Mr. Snow?" You ignore him, sealing some glass containers with pieces of skin, fluids, and more from the corpses.
"You know what? Forget it. We haven't done it in the upper living room, or the library. Yeah, I can wait." Brushing past him, you laugh.
"I swear I will turn you into a mutt if you don't shut up, Coryo" both of you laugh. And Coriolanus feels happy. He thinks he has your back. He finally won.
He won the money, the fame, and the power was growing. And he won the girl.
It was already dark when you were done doing the practices at the University. Coriolanus helps you with your coat and bag as you make your way to the car.
"After you, dear" he indicates that you should sit first. So you do, and after you start the car, you turn to see him.
He has rebellious hair hanging on his forehead. He lets you brush his hair and smiles, relaxing after a long day.
There's time to catch your lips and kiss you deeply. Hands on your hips as usual and yours tangled in his hair. Even after brushing it.
"Do you think she'll notice?" He asks agitated, breathing unevenly. You giggle, fixing your dark purple lipstick through the mirror of the car.
"She gave us six bodies, but seven doesn't make much difference. Right?" He smiles too, even giggling a bit.
"I can't wait to take a shower," he admits.
"I can't wait for you to take me to bed after shower" Before you make it outside of campus, he kisses you again, squeezing your inner thigh, almost making you moan.
"Me neither…"
___________________________
Taglist: @sarnbarnes @user0440822 @poppyflower-22 @h-l-vlovesvintage @zxrcle @gloryekaterina @dakotali @especiallythewomenandthechildren @mymadokamagica @drvnkn-dazed
In my head… this was the wedding dress<3
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teatoptony · 7 months
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For All the Mary Janes
summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. what about the mary janes, then?
or, in which you're the mary jane to miles's spider-man
pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x reader, e-42! Miles Morales x reader
warning(s); i didn’t have any specific gender or race for r in mind while writing, but rio calls r ‘mija’ once and i think that’s ab it
maybe some incorrect usage of Spanish? Spanish speakers who can respond to my weird questions pls hmu
maybe ooc but it’s been in my drafts so long i just wanted to get it out tbh
implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours
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You and Miles were always joined at the hip. Your parents knew each other well, so your families were together a lot. Mr. and Mrs. Morales saw you like their own daughter, often joking that you and Miles would be engaged when you got older with the way he could never leave you alone.
At least, up till around two years ago.
You and Miles started to grow apart when you got into Visions Academy. He thought it was a stupid school full of stuck-up rich kids who only cared about making connections that would help them along further down the line. You thought it was a good school that had a good track record of producing students that had a lot of success in what they wanted to do.
Some things were said the day before your transfer.
Since then, the two of you rarely texted or called. Mrs. Morales would often come by for coffee with your mom, tell you about how her son was doing and gush over 'how much you've grown' from last Tuesday, but that was about the only way you knew the vague outline of what he was up to.
You'd admit you felt lonely for a while. After all, Miles had been your best friend ever since you could remember. But you also weren't going to go running to him after everything he'd said.
I mean, was it really that bad to want a good future?
Soon enough though, you felt like yourself again. You met new people, made new contacts, and actual friends. Because contrary to popular belief, the people there weren't all mini business men and heartless CEOs in the making. They were just kids, after all.
And then, Miles won the draw. Just a few weeks before the start of the new semester, your parents mentioned that he'd be going to your school from now on in passing.
You didn't think much of it at first. I mean, everyone has that one childhood friend that they fell apart with, right? For the first week or so, you didn't even see his face much. In fact, you didn't see him at all, not even a glimpse in the halls.
That was about to change drastically.
Short story shorter, you caught a glimpse of him walking on the side of the school with pigeons stuck to his hands. A month or two later, Spider-Man climbed through your dorm window, ripping off his mask and ranting about some villain of the week.
"I couldn't even catch the guy-"
"Miles?"
"...You're not Ganke."
The two of you made up that night. He apologized, admitting he was being unfair and was upset that you were leaving his school. It didn't exactly clear everything, but it was a start. The two of you caught each other up on everything they had missed. In the end, the sun was about to come up and the both of you realized you hadn't gotten a minute of sleep on a school night.
From then on, the two of you get closer again. He went to you for the occasional rant or patch up, and he actively sought you out in school now, relieved to see a familiar face in the halls. Gradually, you got close to the point you'd call him one of your best friends and vice versa after around a year of radio static.
Everything was great. He was cute, funny - in an awkward way, but hey, he made you laugh - he looked out for you, and when he talked to you he did this cute little thing where he would play with the strings of his hoodie which he somehow always managed to layer on with like two other jackets and—
Oh yeah, did we mention the crush you had on him?
Because there was one.
Big huge one, right here. Materialized out of thin air looks like.
Which should have been fine. You were perfectly capable of hiding a crush. I mean, come on, it's high school. You would've been eaten alive if you couldn't.
Normally, you would even be confident that you could make your crush like you back. I mean, why wouldn't he?
Two words. One person.
Gwen Stacy.
It was like he could never go even one conversation without mentioning her.
Slight exaggeration? Maybe. Maybe not.
"Oh yeah, that's cool! Y'know, Gwen told me one time that—"
"You got an A, I knew you could do it! I told you so. Did you know Gwen got A's in—"
"Oh hey, you got your hair cut! Reminds me of that time when me and Gwen—"
At first, it was bearable. Sure, she came up annoyingly often whenever you talked, but she had just left this dimension, never to be seen again. Of course he was gonna miss her.
You laughed at all his stories, listened to every one even though he told the same six or seven ones over and over again. You even grew to like Gwen, as if you'd known her for the short amount of time Miles did, too.
But then two months passed. Then six. Then a whole year. Before you knew it, a year and four months had passed since the departure of Gwen Stacy.
And he still. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.
You had tried to understand. You really did.
But you can only hear the same damn jokes so many times before you get a migraine.
Pick any story. You could list off every variation of how Miles would tell it off the top of your head.
Gwen Stacy became the daughter of one of your mom’s friends, so to speak. That one girl in the neighborhood you couldn’t help but envy.
And worst of all, it was like he wished you were her.
Whenever you did something, he would tell you how Gwen could do it better. He would ask you whether or not you thought Gwen would like certain trinkets he found around town, and kept a collection of them in one of his drawers so he could give them to her one day. He was even studying quantum physics instead of art so that he could make his own multiversal gateway - a safe one, so that he could unlock the multiverse, possibly for good.
It hurt when he zoned out while you were telling him about you, thinking about her; your day, what you wanted to study, how your parents were fighting a lot again lately and you were struggling because of it, how you'd joined a new band—
"A band, huh?" Miles suddenly perked up, finally looking up from his sketchbook. "Did I tell you Gwen's in a band? It's called the Mary Janes—"
"Miles would you please stop?"
A pause, both of you mildly surprised at how you'd snapped at him.
The two of you were at your dorm, seated side-by-side on the bed with your legs folded in front of you. It was Friday, the day before Mr. Morales’s pre signing-in party.
The boy looked at you, a questioning look on his face. "What's wrong?"
And that tilt with his head - he really didn't know, did he? You couldn't decide if that was better or worse.
"Miles, I know Gwen's in a band," He tried to say something, but you didn't let him speak before you continued. "I know she's a drummer, I know she does ballet, I know she had to shave half of her head because you couldn't control your powers - hell, the whole school knows that—"
"C’mon, don’t bring that up—"
"—I know every single story she told you while she was here, and I know every single detail of what you two did and how you did it. And I know she does everything I can do and she does it better. I’m tired of hearing it, Miles." His eyebrows furrowed, a slightly hurt look flashing across his face. "I’m sorry you miss her and I’m sorry she’s gone, but I just can’t be around you if all you’re gonna do is compare me to her."
A moment of silence settled in the air. You hoped Miles would understand. Surely, he’d see how tedious this was getting.
"All I’m asking is for you to tone it down."
Another beat passes without a word from the boy. He’s looking into your eyes, but it doesn’t seem like he’s all there. Like there’s a world past your irises that he’s seeing for the first time.
"I- I’m sorry, y/n, I can’t do that." Miles finally says, his gaze turning away from yours and to the sketch he’d been working on for the last hour. You glanced down at it as well, the bright blue eyes of the one and only Gwen Stacy meeting yours.
"You’re the only one I can talk to on this," he said quietly, softly closing the sketchbook and tapping a finger nervously on the cover.
"Ganke?"
"Ganke’s fine, he’s great, he’s just.. not someone I can go to for these things."
You took a deep breath, the guilt of having to tell him ‘no’ building up in your chest. You knew his relationship with his parents were complicated at the moment, and he didn’t really have friends outside of you and Ganke. But still.. it was like he wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in your life ever since your initial reconnection.
It wasn’t like you expected a complete 50:50 give-and-take in relationships, but honestly you felt like you were talking to a robot with very limited audio cues.
"Miles, you don’t listen to me anymore. The only time you actually respond to anything I say is when it’s something even remotely related to Gwen."
"That’s not true!" Miles protested. You watched as he tried to find something to argue his point, only to come up empty. His shoulders sagged a little.
"But you gotta understand, Gwen - I’m not gonna see her again, at least until I figure out.. everything." He said in a quiet voice. "I need to talk to someone. Can’t you understand?”
"I’m not trying to shut everything down, I’m just asking you to pay attention to me every once in a while." You sighed. "And if you’e not willing to do that… do you even think of me as a friend?"
-
Miles left your dorm not long after that little talk, sneaking out the same way he snuck in; through the window. You dug your nails into your palms, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm to push down any sadness you may have felt. It was the second time you and Miles had grown apart, this time maybe your fault a little more than his. It felt like it, anyway.
Still, you felt like you’d done the right thing.
You hoped so, anyway.
-
It was an hour before Jeff Morales’s technically-not-captain-yet-but-will-be-soon celebration. Your dad and yourself had come early to prepare everything and set up all the decorations. Your mom apparently ‘couldn’t make it’. It was the third time in the last two weeks she cancelled on plans that your dad was involved in.
You stacked red plastic cups on one of the tables, a cooler full of ice and two-litre soda bottles to your left. Miles’s parents had insisted they didn’t need any help, but your dad had insisted right on back that the two of you wanted to. You didn’t mind. You’d cleared your evening for the event anyway, so it’s not like you had anything better to do.
The one thing that made you kind of regret coming was your lack of a jacket. It’d been really sunny in the morning, so you’d figured it would be a warm night. A breeze picked up and sent a light chill through your body, causing you to just barely shiver.
"Mija," Mrs. Morales called, coming up from behind you and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You’re freezing."
"Oh, I’m fine, mama," you replied, smiling at her. She gave you a look that said ‘we both know that isn’t true’.
"Miles might have something in his room," she suggested, "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one of his clothes."
You thanked her but refused, claiming it might get warmer once the guests started to arrive and the party was at full swing. She must have noticed something was off when she mentioned Miles, because she raised an eyebrow and shook her head lightly before asking,
"What did he do now?"
Either you’re really bad at hiding things from her or her motherly sixth-sense worked on you too. You hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. After all, Rio had always been like a mom to you.
"We had a fight - if you can even call it that, anyway, about a girl," you said, fiddling with a plastic cup. "We’re not on real good terms right now, I don’t think…"
Rio looked slightly surprised for a moment, then something seemed to click into place. She sighed and put her hands on your cheeks. "He’s a little bit slow," she said, giving you a sympathetic smile. "But he’ll get there. Eventually."
She then squished your face before immediately letting go, making you laugh. "Now go get yourself a jacket. I don’t want my only daughter to freeze to death."
You held your hands up in surrender as she pointed to the stairs, swiftly making your way down to the Moraleses’ flat. You had a spare key that Miles’s parents had given you a long while ago, when your parents used to have full on screaming matches in the middle of the living room every other day.
Within a couple minutes you’d grabbed one of the dozen coats, hoodies and jackets strewn about Miles’s closet, pulling the soft material over your shoulders as you took a glance around his room. Everything was about the same as you’d seen two or three weeks ago, save for a few new stickers laid about the desk.
There was an all-too-familiar sketchbook on the bed, one similar to what Miles had been scribbling in last night in your dorm, just in a different color. This one looked a bit more used, so you supposed he’d gotten it and packed it full of Gwen Stacy just after she left this reality. The thought put a bitter taste on your tongue.
-
A half an hour into the party, Miles still hadn’t showed up. He was supposed to be here at least twenty minutes ago, and you could tell his parents were getting both worried and annoyed. Rio asked around for her son as Jeff chatted with some colleagues. Suddenly, an auntie shoved a mic into Mrs. Morales’s hand, drawing everybody’s attention to her by clinking her glass. Jeff looked away in what could only be described as complete horror.
"Um, hi…"
You grinned as she continued with embarrassing stories about her husband, from little anecdotes from when they were dating to how he was almost 10lbs as a baby. It was then that Mr. Morales jumped in, quickly taking the mic away from her and giving his own speech.
"—And to my son…"
You grimaced as he raised his cup, looking around for someone who wasn’t there. The two of you met eyes instead, and you shook your head to tell him he hadn’t showed with an apologetic look. He turned to his wife, only for her to do the same. He cleared his throat before continuing.
"…The reason I do any of this in the first place. So.. I love you Miles."
Afterwards, the DJ put the records on again. People are talking, laughing, congratulating, creating a warm, buzzing atmosphere. You’re dragged away by a few little kids to play with them over by a small cluster of barrels, which they’ve decided is their ‘lair’. You play make believe with them for a little while as their parents stand a bit away with your own dad, occasionally glancing over at you to make sure the kids are behaving.
It’s then that Miles finally shows up, pushing the door open with two boxes in his arms. You follow him through your peripheral vision as he tries to avoid his parents, ultimately failing. You’re not sure what they’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to be going that well. He shows them the contents of his boxes, which doesn’t seem to impress them too much.
After a couple more words, Mr. Morales raises his voice, the DJ trying to divert people’s attention away by upping the volume but ultimately giving up.
"What do you got to tell me so bad?"
"You know what? Never mind."
Miles walked away, pulling his hood up as his dad yelled after him about him being grounded for two months. Must’ve been really bad, huh?
You waited for the music to come back on before you made your way to the exit, ruffling one of the little kids’ hair as he skittered away with his sister. You’re just going to check on him for a minute, just to see if he’s okay. You can do that… right? I mean sure, it might be awkward since things had ended like that last night, but still.
No one else was going to.
You let yourself into the flat once again, approaching Mile’s room with soft footsteps. You’re just outside the door when—
"Are these your drawings?"
You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart freezes right along with you. For a moment, you felt like a deer in headlights.
A feeling crawls its way under your skin, cold and slippery. You don’t know how you know, but you’re absolutely positive.
"Missed you too."
Gwen Stacy.
-
You’re on your way home, your hands rubbing up and down your arms to try to warm yourself up during the walk. You lived a little while away from Miles’s place, but it’s nothing you can’t walk.
You’d left the jacket on the Morales’ couch, turning on your heel and leaving the moment you heard her voice.
Damn it.
When had she gotten back? How had she gotten back? What was Miles’s reaction?
What were they doing now?
…Did you really want to know?
As your brain clouded over with questions, you took a wrong turn. Maybe two. Or three. Honestly, you didn’t know. Once you realized that this definitely wasn’t your neighborhood, you stopped yourself mid-step, looking around to see if anything was familiar at all.
Your eyes settled on a building, as there really wasn’t anything other than that around here other than some roads and bridges. One of the windows were glowing.
Then the whole structure began to rumble.
The ground beneath your feet started to turn… black…?
Wha—
-
You fell.
Not for too long, but you did.
You dropped around six feet onto hard concrete, twisting your ankle in the process. You cried out in pain and surprise.
"What the—?"
"Y/n?"
You looked up at that. You knew that voice.
Except, you didn’t.
The first thing you noticed is that this definitely was not the place you were in before. This place was more narrow, more dark. Light rain pattered on your skin as your hands supported your sitting position, wondering what the hell was going on.
The person who’d said your name was at the entrance to the alley you’d been.. teleported? to.
They took hesitant steps over to you, and, for some reason, you didn’t feel scared that this complete stranger had cornered you in a place you’d never even seen before.
Maybe the voice is what made you think it was alright.
Or maybe it was his face, which made your heart stop its primary function for the second time today.
"Miles?"
But he wasn’t Miles. At least.. not your Miles. This one was skinnier, just a little shorter. His accent had more of a Spanish touch to it and, most of all, his hair was braided into two sections that reached just below his shoulders.
No. He was very much not your Miles Morales.
Nevertheless, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. There was something in his eyes — regret? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? Confusion? Probably all of the above.
He got closer, and closer, and closer. Once he reached where you were half-laying, he crouched down and tilted his umbrella until it sheltered your body more than his.
"…Are you hurt?" He asked, giving you a once-over. You just nodded, still putting all the pieces together.
Had you—
Did you—?
The boy in front of you studied your face for a little while, but then ultimately shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, handing it over to you.
"Come on. It’s cold outside."
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barcaatthemoon · 1 month
Text
serial heartbreaker || leila ouhabi x reader ||
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leila comes back to barcelona after you figure out that she cheated on you in manchester.
it became obvious that something was up whenever your teammates started acting weird around you. alexia and mapi were the first, but ona, pina, and claudia quickly followed suit. ona began to outright avoid you, which hurt pretty badly. almost as badly as whenever you finally realized what was going on.
you sat with your suspicions for several weeks before they were officially confirmed. leila was careful, but she got sloppy. it was in the back of someone else's instagram stories. your eyes had zeroed in on your girlfriend making out with another girl in the background of a video that one of her teammates had shot.
it was hard not letting on that you knew anything, but you weren't nearly as good at it as you thought you were. alexia could see that you were hurting, as could more of your more perceptive teammates. the one who had shocked you was lucy, who had snapped at leila whenever she came back to spain for a visit, claiming to have missed you dearly.
"get the fuck out of here," lucy had practically growled at leila. the woman had planned on surprising you, and at lucy ruining that, leila got pissed. the two of them were at each other's throats, and it took mapi and alexia leading leila away for things to calm down a bit. you couldn't hear them at first, but soon the hallway was full of your two barcelona teammates yelling at leila in spanish. "are you okay?"
"yeah, i'm fine," you answered quietly. lucy kneeled down next to you and put her hand around your shoulders. "how long have you guys known?"
"ona told me about it a few months ago. i didn't want to have to be the one to tell you. i'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier," lucy said. you nodded as you pulled her into a hug.
"it's okay. i probably wouldn't have believed you for a while. i couldn't, leila promised she'd never do something like this," you said. lucy understood how you felt. ona had been livid with the other spanish player whenever she had found out, to the point where lucy was certain they hadn't spoken to each other since. "when do you think they'll be done? i do have to talk to leila at some point."
"just tell her to get the fuck out of here, please? i know that she means a lot to you, but you can't go back to her. ona said it herself, leila will do it again," lucy pleaded with you. if it had been anybody else, you probably would have ignored the warnings, but lucy didn't like to get involved with people's lives like this.
"i'll try to," you promised. lucy pressed a kiss to your head before she helped you up to your feet. the two of you walked over to where alexia and mapi were still tearing into leila, who looked both ashamed and angry. lucy pulled your teammates away to give you some privacy with leila.
"amor," leila started. she moved towards you, but you held your hand up to keep her away from you. "please, let me explain."
"there's nothing to explain, leila. you cheated on me, it is that simple. you can blame the distance, your loneliness, the fact that you're just so affectionate. you can say anything that you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you cheated on me," you told her. "so go ahead and explain yourself because i'd love to hear whatever bullshit you've been telling yourself, but once you're done, i want you to answer all my questions."
"i missed you, and i was angry because i told you not to come with me. you offered to come to manchester, but i told you to stay here instead. i was all alone, and it was my fault, so i took it upon myself to be less lonely. it was just hook ups at first, i swear, and then there was this girl on the training staff. we hit it off, things are going great, but she's not you," leila said. all her words did was fill you with rage. she had confirmed that this had been going on for a lot longer than you knew, and worse than that, she was still with one of the girls she had cheated with.
"get the fuck out of here. if i never see you again, it'll still be too fucking soon." you turned on your heels and walked right out of the room. leila tried to chase after you, but lucy was right there to stop her. you walked into the locker room and went straight to your locker, beginning to pack up your things to go home.
"(y/n), are you okay?" mapi asked as she sat down next to you. you weren't crying, it was far past that, but you were obviously pissed. you didn't mean to direct it at mapi, but the glare you gave her had the woman backing away from you instantly. unfortunately for you, alexia wasn't as easily scared by you.
"i'm sorry that we didn't do something before," alexia said as she pulled you into a hug. her embrace was tight and comforting, but you didn't let yourself relax. most of the girls looked away, but you could see ona standing across the room looking at you longingly. she had been avoiding you for months, and it killed her to not be by your side as your best friend.
"come here oni," you told her. she raced over towards you, both of you dissolving into fits of tears as soon as you were in each other's arms. her apologies were scrambled in between sobs and spanglish, but you knew that she meant it. still, a part of you couldn't forgive her for what happened. she had known since the beginning that leila had cheated on you, but she hadn't said anything to you.
"do you need a ride home?" alexia asked once you and ona had calmed down a little. you nodded as you picked up your bag. the team didn't miss the way that you ignored ona as she said goodbye to you. the anger you felt for leila was starting to spread around the team, and if it wasn't for the fact that you needed alexia for support, you'd probably shut her out too. "it's not an excuse, but none of us knew how to tell you about leila. you seemed so happy, and i knew she'd do this when she started talking about switching teams. i didn't think it'd get so out of hand."
"were you listening to us?" you asked. alexia nodded her head as she started driving. you knew that she wasn't taking you back to your apartment. "did you know it was with so many girls?"
"no, it's never been that many before," alexia muttered. you could see that she wasn't just angry. "you were supposed to be different for her. i believed in her not to do this again. i'm sorry, if there's anybody you should be mad at, it's me, not ona. i'm the one who knew about this pattern. don't ruin a friendship with someone who doesn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire."
"it's hard right now. all i can think about is that she knew," you admitted. alexia sighed as she squeezed your hand. "i could have done the same thing to leila, but i didn't. why did she have to do that to me?"
"sometimes, she's careless about things that she shouldn't be. she was careless with your trust. it's hard, but try not to think about her. don't give her a second thought, because eventually, the pain will subside along with your feelings for her," alexia said. you tilted your head to the side as you realized that she was speaking from experience. "do you want to be alone right now or can i come inside too?"
"don't you have practice?" you questioned. alexia shrugged.
"not if you need a shoulder to cry on," she told you. "let me know what you need, and i'll do my best to get it for you."
"i want you to come with me, and maybe, when practice is over, we can call ona," you told her. alexia nodded as she got out of the car. she got your bag for you, and for a moment, it reminded you of the way that leila had been with you in the beginning of your relationship. the only difference was that alexia didn't look at you like leila did, as if she knew that you were already head over heels for her.
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hyunniesgirl · 4 months
Text
Tease
Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader
Summary: tired of months of teasing, Changbin just wants to have you and he's going to do anything to make you his.
Or, the one where you were kink shamed and can't trust sexual partners anymore, until Changbin shows up and sweeps you off your feet.
Words count: 4,281
Warnings: dom!Changbin, sub!reader, throat fucking, slaps(?), degradation, oral(f & m receiving), spit, use of pet names(bunny, baby), reader is called names(whore), unprotected sex(use protection irl), let me know if I forgot something
A/N: as usual let me say that I can't write smut to save my life, but I got this idea a few weeks ago and left it in my drafts, then I received this ask and I thought it fits so yeah that's it
This content is 18+, minors do NOT interact
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The first time you had sex, was weird. You thought that maybe it was always like that, maybe you really wouldn't feel much pleasure on your first time.
Then, your second and third time came and you noticed you didn't feel the same way your friends told you they felt during sex. Even though you were attracted and even loved the people you slept with, you just didn't come, you didn't enjoy having sex.
That was, until a guy you dated slapped you, while trying to change positions. Although it was unintentional, that was the first time you ever moaned for real while having sex with another person. You two stopped for a moment, him trying to process what just happened and you coming to a realization: maybe, you were just going about sex the wrong way, maybe you didn't explore your options enough.
You began researching, reading about kinks and whatnot. You asked your boyfriend for help, you wanted to try new things and after that, sex was finally good. You finally understood what your friends were talking about when they told you about their sex lives.
However, that didn't last for long. Your boyfriend was not as nice of a guy as you thought. You found out he actually shared every bit of your kinks with his friends, calling you weird and saying he just went along with it because you were attractive enough.
He left his phone unlocked while going to the bathroom and you saw a text of his friends, making fun of you and the things you like.
It's an understatement to say you were left traumatized after that relationship. You know there's absolutely nothing wrong with what you like in bed, but to trust someone again was too hard.
You were so afraid of going through the same thing again so you just stopped dating altogether.
With that being said, you didn't stop teasing. That is the only thing you can have while still not sleeping with men, so you enjoy making them suffer. Leave them hard and hanging, that's your thrill.
They would all give up in a bit, a few weeks of teasing, without actually sleeping with them was enough for them to be done with you.
Until you met him.
You knew you wanted Changbin since the first time you laid eyes on him. He's just so attractive you think you could cum just by looking at him flexing his muscles. He's big, so big he could probably break you in half if you let him.
You don't know what is it about him. You felt attracted to other guys like him before, gym bros are not usually your type but some catch your eye once in a while. However, Changbin has something more, he's not just hot. He's funny, a great dancer and he's just so sure about his masculinity that he doesn't see it necessary to keep reiterating it all the time like other guys do.
You still decided not to sleep with him, you are part of the same friend group, so he knows everyone you do. You really don't think he's the type to brag about his feats in bed but if he ever ended up being like your ex boyfriend, you would never be able to look at your friends again.
You are not ashamed of your preferences, but at the same time it's just something so intimate you wish only you and your partner would know about it.
You thought he would give up like the others, maybe in a month he would get over it and stop trying to win you over. But you were wrong, it's been months already and you're stuck in this cat and mouse situation with no sign of him letting go.
It all started when you met the boys for the first time. Your best friend, Ryunjin, talked all the time about these guys she met at a party, how they became super close and that you'd love them.
It was Ryunjin’s birthday, so you met them at a restaurant. Your eyes scanned through all of the boys when you arrived, they were all too good looking, is it even possible for a whole friend group of seven people to all be so damn attractive?
“Wait, seven? Didn't Ryunjin say they were eight?”
You felt a hand slightly touching your back, turning around to find kind eyes staring right back at you.
“Are you going to sit, miss?” He asked.
“Y-yes”, you stuttered, trying to compose yourself.
“Why were you so late?” Ryunjin asked, you're not sure if she's speaking to you or the guy.
“Traffic was insane”, you two answered together, snapping your heads to look at each other, smiling playfully.
“I'm Changbin, by the way”, he said, pointing at the empty seat and pulling the chair for you to sit.
“I'm y/n”, you answered shyly, seeing him sitting by your side even though there were plenty of seats available closer to his friends.
As you drank a bit through the night, you caught his lingering eyes on you too many times and you're sure he caught you eyeing him up too. He made jokes, throwing his arms to the back of your chair and coming closer to you.
The amount of times you just wanted to tell him to take you home was actually crazy, no man ever made you feel that way. The warmth you felt when he got close to you was something hard to explain, you felt all your insides turning around and your pussy was throbbing just by feeling his breath hitting on your skin when he turned in your direction to speak to you.
You were able to escape that night, forcing yourself to say goodbye and walk away with all the willpower you had in you.
Things didn't stop there, though. It became usual for you to hangout with the guys. They are always so nice and cheerful, it's great being around them.
Changbin is always close to you, making jokes so he can see your beautiful smile, taking the opportunity to touch you at every chance he gets. Sometimes he'll put his hand on your lower back while walking with you, other times he'll touch your arms while talking. If you are eating together, he'll nonchalantly lick his finger and press it to the corner of your mouth to clean the mess you made on your face, like that's not the hottest shit a man can do.
He's just always there, the first one to hug you when you arrive, the one who walks you to your car or uber when the night is over. His clothes are the ones you sleep in when they invite you to a sleepover and to say you don't have wet dreams all the time, while sleeping embraced by his scent, it would be a lie.
"Why don't you just fuck him?" Ryunjin asks, while you eye fuck Changbin from the other side of the room. You're in a corner of his living room, there's music playing in the background while everyone is waiting for the food you all ordered. He's looking so good with a black tight t-shirt that outlines all his muscles and baggy sweats that do little to hide his nice ass. You're probably drooling at this point.
“You know why”, you tell her, Ryunjin knows all about your bad experiences.
“You've known him for months now, it's obvious he's not like that prick of your ex”, she says and you nod, you do know it.
“It's just hard”, you sigh. Trusting someone again over something so delicate to you is difficult.
“Yeah, I get it”, she smiles sympathetically to you. “But you know he'll reach his limit at some point, right?”
“I don't know what you're talking about”, you say, looking at her with doe eyes and an angelic smile.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about”, Ryunjin rolls her eyes, “you've been playing this teasing game for a while and he'll get sick of it at some point”
It's true that you've been enjoying yourself since you noticed his interest in you and you did what you do best, tease.
You touch him all the time, while his touches are subtle and shy, you're much more obvious about it. You play with his hair when you're sitting close to each other, a leg over his. He's so respectful, his hands never go above your knees. You shamelessly touch his biceps, squeezing them while biting on your lips, oh how you wish this man would put you in a headlock with said biceps.
Every time you touch him, he gets horny, it's a spontaneous reaction that only you could cause. It never happened to him before, he dreams about the dirty things he could do to you. You're so fragile, so beautiful, he wants to ruin you, break you so no one would ever want you, then you'd be his forever.
While you're indeed afraid he'll get sick of your antics, Changbin is sure he'll never give up. He wanted you since the first moment your eyes locked with his and he'll make you his, no matter how long it takes.
"Wait", you say too loudly as soon as WAP starts playing, "THAT'S MY JAM", you grab Ryunjin's hand, making her stand up to dance with you.
You sing along, watching some of the boys coming up to you two, dancing around and laughing at your excitement.
Turning around, you look at the kitchen, seeing Changbin leaning against the counter, watching you. He would usually join the dance, but not tonight, his eyes are fixated on you, making you feel like you two are the only people in the room.
He has only a beer in his hand, a smirk on his lips and dirty thoughts in his mind. He decides that tonight you're going to pay for all the times you left him hard just for the fun of it.
You have no idea what's in store for you, so you keep teasing him, sliding your hands down your body, rolling your hips, staring shamelessly at Changbin.
You look around for a bit, making sure no one’s looking at your little scene. It's crazy how this song just makes you feel — horny and needy for someone that will really put you in your place. You sigh, looking back at Changbin, he's still watching you, a frown on his face now. He's muttering something you obviously can't hear because of the distance but his eyes are dark like you have never seen before.
The music ends leaving you satisfied with the results. Changbin is still staring at you, or better, eyefucking you.
The food you ordered doesn't take too long to arrive, so you sit happily at the table with everyone, talking like you didn't just make him get as hard as a rock just from your dancing. He feels like he's losing his mind, you're too much for him already and he didn't even fuck you yet.
You go to the bathroom before going home, you're kinda sleepy already so you want to wash your face so you won't fall asleep in the uber.
After throwing some water on your face, you stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You're such a coward, you wish you had the courage to make a move on Changbin for real.
Sighing, you get yourself together, opening the door ready to go home and forget this whole night. You didn't expect to bump into the man you so much desire right outside, leaning on the wall with his muscular arms crossed in front of his chest.
You flinch at the look he gives you, the smile that grows on his lips is everything but friendly, so on instinct you take a step back.
“H-hey”, you say, trying to recompose yourself. “Do you want to use the bathroom?” You step outside, awkwardly, leaving room for him to go inside.
“I sent everyone home”, he takes a deep breath, walking towards you. “Now it's just you and me, I think it's time for us to talk”
“Aren't we already doing that?” You laugh, sheepishly, stepping back again only to bump in the wall.
Changbin tsks, putting his hands on your waist and pressing his body against yours.
“It's time for you to stop playing games, bunny”, he tells you, he's too close, his nose is almost touching yours. “You fucked around enough already”
You feel the air get stuck in your throat, what are you going to do now? Your mind can't think of a way to get out of this situation and you feel like if you reject him now, it's over. You don't want it to be over, you want him so badly it's crazy.
Changbin sees the opening he needs, you're considering his proposition.
“Let me make you feel good, hm? I've been wanting you for so long, let me have you”, he continues, trying to persuade you. “I promise you won't regret it”
You can feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, you want to let him do anything to you. The problem is the consequences later, but you decide to let the y/n of the future to handle that, you just want him to fuck you senseless right now.
You take a deep breath, nodding and in a split of a second his lips are on yours, hungrily attacking your poor mouth. He's being too harsh, you know he doesn't mean to hurt you and the way you can feel how much he wants this makes you more turned on.
He slides his hands from your waist to your hips, pulling you away from the wall so he can grab your ass. He squeezes it, groaning, it's so good to finally have you. Oh, the things he wants to do to you.
Changbin taps twice on your thighs, holding you tightly so you can wrap your legs around his hips. He carries you all the way to his room without disconnecting his mouth from yours, you're not sure how you didn't have to stop yet so you could breathe.
As soon as he gets closer to his bed, he bites your lower lip. He throws you on the bed, taking his shirt off. His body is so much better than you imagined, his chest looks like it was sculpted by an artist.
He climbs on the bed, leaning over you and brushing his nose on yours, softly caressing your cheek, taking your hair out of your face.
"Why did you take so long to let me have you, hm?" He leans more, kissing your collarbone and biting your shoulder, making you flinch.
"I was scared", you whisper, closing your eyes to the sensation of his lips on your skin.
"Did you think I would hurt you?" He asks, worriedly, hands coming instantly to cup your face.
"No, I know you wouldn't", you sigh, "I just had some really bad experiences with other people and was scared”
He's relieved he was not the one you were afraid of, but at the same time he's angry, he wants to know who's the asshole who made you feel bad about yourself.
"I won't do anything you don't want to, bunny", he gives a peck on your lips, "let's go slowly, hm? I'll do a bit of everything and you can tell me if I should go further or slow down, alright?"
You nod, feeling one of his hands sliding slowly from your face to your scalp, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling it slightly.
"Should I keep going?" He asks in a whisper, already knowing your answer by the way your lips parted and your cheeks reddened.
"Yes, please", you plead, looking him in the eyes and seeing a smirk grow on his lips.
“Tell me, bunny, do you want me to be rough? Or do you want me to be soft?”
You stare at him for a bit, he's looking at you so intently, waiting for your answer. You never thought someone would ask you this question, ask how they could make you feel good.
“Rough”, you blush, avoiding his gaze. He grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks harshly.
"That's good”, he gives a peck on your pouting lips, “because you deserve a punishment for all the times I had to jerk off by myself thinking of you", he points out, pulling your hair harder and making you moan, leaving your neck exposed. He takes the opportunity, leaning closer and licking the bare skin, sucking and biting it hard. After making sure he marked you, Changbin sits.
"Undress", he tells you while he watches you, sitting comfortably on the bed. When you don't move, he scoffs. "Or should I rip your clothes apart? I don't mind", he smirks and you look down to your expensive new dress, you actually would like him to rip your clothes, but not this one.
So you shake your head, taking off your dress. You try covering yourself a bit, feeling too exposed. You're wearing only your panties since you didn't need a bra for that dress.
"You look so beautiful bare and ready for me", he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.
"Sit here, bunny", he says, tapping the place by his side. "Tell me, how do you think I should punish you?"
"I- I don't know"
He frowns, smiling slightly.
"Are you sure?"
"Whatever you want", you say, feeling the warmth grow in your cheeks. "You can do anything you want."
Changbin sucks in the air between his teeth, a big smile on his face.
"I like the sound of that", he chuckles, lifting his hand to your face and squeezing it, "now before we can finally start, tell me if there's anything you don't want tonight"
You take a deep breath, looking deep into his eyes.
"There's nothing, I'll tell you if I feel uncomfortable", you say confidently.
"Hm, I like it. You're so good for me, baby", he stands up, taking off his sweats and underwear, sitting back with his legs open. He's so hard and pretty, you even salivate looking at his cock.
"Get on your knees", he commands and you do just that, feeling the hardwood scratching your skin. "Come here and open your mouth for me okay? I want you to show me how sorry you are for making me wait for so long"
You nod, lifting your shaky hands to grab the base of his cock, you're not sure how much you'll be able to fit in your mouth but the simple thought of sucking him makes your excitement drip from your cunt. Changbin puts his hands on the bed, looking at you with a condescending smile, just waiting.
You lean closer, wrapping his cock with your mouth, making him groan. You lick his shaft all the way up to his leaking head, twirling with your tongue at the top.
“Fuck”, he says, bringing one of his hands to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you down. You feel the tears brimming in your eyes, your throat is burning with the assault. “Look at you, looking so pretty gagging on my cock”
You moan, feeling your core aching, your hand slides involuntarily to your clit trying to have some release. His cock hits the back of your throat once again, making the tears run through your cheeks, you try to catch your breath but he keeps fucking your mouth violently.
“Oh my”, he smiles, “are you touching yourself? Did I say you could do that?” He asks condescendingly, “I guess whores can't help themselves”
He releases your hair, finally letting you breathe.
“So you like the pain, right? I have so many things in store for you”, he gets closer.
You're too intoxicated, eyes glossy from the tears and lips swollen. Your mascara is smudged all over your face.
“Are you okay?” He asks, taking your face into his hands once more, making you look at him, “do you want to keep going?”
You nod, frantically. “Yes, please”
He smiles satisfied, pushing you on the bed. Changbin kisses your feet, trailing softly over your legs, all the way up to your thighs. He leans over, biting the inside of your thigh, earning a whimper from you. Leaning over your pussy, he doesn't waste time, eagerly sucking on your clit and licking long stripes between your folds. Your hands automatically go to his head, pulling him closer to your core.
He inserts a finger inside you, looking up to see your beautiful face contorted in pleasure while he works with his fingers and tongue. You had forgotten how it felt to have a good fuck, how delicious the pain is. You're clenching around his fingers, so Changbin knows you're almost cumming, that's when he stops.
“What the hell?” You whine, trying to touch your clit with your hand so you can finish it yourself but he doesn't let you, grabbing your face harshly, squeezing your cheeks.
“You should take what I give you”, he says, “Open your mouth”, he commands, spitting inside, “now, swallow”
You feel all your insides turn around, you could cum just by the hold he has on you. Your pussy is throbbing so much it hurts, but it's so good.
“Binnie, please”, you whine, ready to beg for him to fuck you.
“Hm? Tell me what you want, bunny”
“Please fuck me, please, please”, you beg.
“If you ask this nicely I can't deny”, he smirks, climbing on top of you. He's huge, strong arms on each of your sides, trying not to put too much weight over you. He pulls you by your ankles, positioning himself in the middle of your legs.
You try grabbing his cock so you can put it in already, you're too desperate but he swings a slap on your ass, making you whimper to the pain, you were not expecting that.
“I told you to take what I give you, bunny”
He slides his cock up and down on your wet folds, feeling like he could die at any moment by feeling your warmth embracing his cock.
“Put it in, Binnie”, you plead again, desperate to feel him inside you.
“Fuck, babe, you're so fucking pretty”, he tells you while teasing, “but do you deserve it? You made a fool out of me all this months”
You feel your eyes brim with tears again, feeling the little bit of stimulation he's giving you by slightly touching the head of his cock to your clit.
“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry”, you sob, “it wasn't just you. I went back home every time and fucked myself thinking about you”
“Shit”, he groans, sliding his cock inside you with no warning, you scream to the sudden intrusion in your sensitive cunt but it gets stuck in your throat while you sob. “Tell me everything you want me to do, yeah?”
He's thrusting violently into you, gripping your hips into place so he can have you exactly where he wants you to be.
“I want you to fucking break me”, you tell him, “choke me, bite me, do anything, I'm yours”
Changbin slams into you even harder listening to those words, he slides his hand up, wrapping it around your throat. He tightens the grip, cutting the air off.
“My beautiful princess wants me to fuck her senseless?” You feel your orgasm closer, the sensations you're feeling all over your body makes it feel like you're in a haze, completely lost in pleasure. The knot in your stomach grows so big, it feels like it explodes, making you shake and arch your back, feeling overwhelmed by all the pleasure.
Changbin keeps going hard, feeling you clench around him just makes him get closer to his own climax. He takes his hand out of your throat, holding your hips for support.
“Do it inside”, you whisper out of breath, feeling his cock twitching inside you. He cums a few moments later, feeling your pussy sucking all of him.
He collapses on top of you, supporting himself in his arms, not wanting to weigh on you but still wanting to stay inside of you. You help him by wrapping your arms around his waist and flipping you two, now you are the one on top of him and his cock is still buried inside you.
You lay on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, not sure what to say now. You're afraid he'll judge you, even though it looked like he enjoyed the same as you, your ex boyfriend seemed to like it too. What if this was just a one time thing for him? You're not sure if you'll be able to be with other people after this night.
As if he can hear your intrusive thoughts, Changbin wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.
“Should I call you my girlfriend now or should we go on a date first?”
You snap your head over at him, wide eyes and a big smile on your lips.
“I think you'll have to do much more to be able to call me your girlfriend”, you smile playfully.
“Oh? My bunny is so greedy”, he gives a peck on your lips, “I can get used to that”
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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
986 notes · View notes
aliensupastar · 11 months
Text
not wrong, but not right
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Rating: Mature
Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: You do your best to keep your head down at your job. When that doesn't work, Carmy's there for you anyways.
Part II Part III
Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depiction of an eating disorder, vent fic, fainting, hospitals, slightly one-sided romantic feelings?
A/N: PLEASE mind the warnings! as mentioned, this is a vent fic with a reader that has an eating disorder. mostly made for my own comfort/self-indulgence, but i thought i’d post it anyways. title inspired by "ode to the mets" by the strokes, gif by heardchef <3
All things considered, your job could be worse. Honestly, you feel like you lucked out a bit, your hiring process being expedited due to Marcus being the one to recommend you to his boss, given that they needed new workers for their newly opened restaurant — you knew it was a good idea to stay in touch with that guy after high school. 
Working front-of-house with Richie could get overwhelming, to say the least. Dealing with him your first few weeks took a lot of adjustment, and a lot of holding back from calling him every foul name in the book. But it all smoothened out eventually. Your coworkers were nice, the pay was decent, the train ride was short. And your boss… well, it didn’t hurt that your boss was nice to look at. 
You’re a little embarrassed by it. You spend a little too much time looking at him when you’re supposed to be focused on your prep, and you always stop by the back office to say goodnight before you clock out, but you think you’ve kept it subtle enough to go unnoticed. You’ve gotten a little too good at that, going unnoticed. 
“Need me to do anything else before I head out?” You lean against the doorway of the tiny office as you say it, backpack already on and your jacket draped over your arms. Carmy’s sitting in his desk chair, bent over some paperwork and looking a little surprised at your question.
“Uh, no, we’re good here. But if you wanna stick around for a bit, Syd and I are makin’ something out of the food we were gonna have to throw out tonight, you could take some of it home with you. Save time on dinner.” He offers with a small smile. You hate the temptation that immediately springs up in you, because you want so badly to take him up on it. The smell of food in the kitchen is always mouthwatering, and when Carmy’s making dishes instead of being on expo, it somehow smells even better. 
You’ve never even tried Carmy’s cooking. You work for one of the most excellent chefs in the country, and you can’t even answer with an honest opinion when people ask you if the food at the restaurant is good. 
Despite all that, you shake your head, using the excuse of wanting to catch your train before it gets dark out, and he takes that easily. 
“Heard.” He nods, looking like he might want to say more. “Well, thank you, for showin’ up today. You were great.”
“Thank you, chef.” You reply, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the praise. “Goodnight, Carm.” 
Before you can change your mind, you turn and walk away, clocking out quickly, but you still hear him say “Night!” from behind you. 
When you make it onto a train car, safely on your way back to your apartment, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe some other day, you think to yourself. It’ll be worth it to try the food some other day.
It had been one incident. That’s what you swore to yourself: one incident, one slip up, and it would never happen again. Besides, you think — or rather, hoped — Carmy’s forgotten about it. It was months ago, and things moved quickly in the restaurant, no time to dwell on things, especially not for the guy who has to run it. 
You’d gone out to the back alley of The Bear for a short break. You’d seen the others do it a million times, mostly for smoke breaks, but you didn’t need a cigarette. You needed to sit down, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as your vision started to swim and your ears felt like they had been filled with cotton. And, well, usually you didn’t need breaks like that, usually you didn’t allow yourself to take them like the others did, but there was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush and Richie didn’t need your help in the front, so you quietly slipped out the back door while hastily putting your coat on. Just this once, you let yourself slump against the wall, sliding down until you were sat on the pavement. You don’t even remember your consciousness fading, just your heartbeat thrumming in your ears while your eyes slipped shut. 
Carmy found you like that. He had barely noticed your extended absence, too busy catching up on more paperwork in his office before the dinner crowd poured in, and he decided he needed a smoke. It had almost startled him when he finally did notice you sitting there, your presence so quiet it took him a few seconds, before he also noticed you were asleep. He couldn’t blame you for that. He could use a fuckin’ nap these days. 
Still, he walked over and leaned down, nudging your shoulder with his hand to rouse you, muttering a quiet “hey.” But you didn’t wake, not even after a couple more pokes. And then he started to worry. 
When you came to, it was because of Carmy’s hands on both your cheeks, gently patting your face, his blue eyes wide with panic. You flinched a bit, startling at the realisation of what you'd done, swearing under your breath, and that was enough for Carmy to step back. 
“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded quickly on instinct. 
“I’m- fine. Yeah, I’m okay.” You stumbled over your assurance, knowing he didn’t quite believe you from the way he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 
“What are you doing out here? You’re freezin’.” You bite your lip, embarrassed at being caught a bit red-handed, unconscious with your body temperature dropping. You’re usually better than that. Better at hiding behind smiles, concealer over your dark under-eyes, and excuses of being more of a big breakfast person to get out of eating family meals with the rest of your coworkers every afternoon. 
“Just tired. I’m fine.” You reply, hoping that’d be enough of an excuse, because everyone here is a little exhausted all the time. You pull yourself to your feet once he stands up from crouching in front of you, trying to convince him to just brush it off. “I'm good to keep going.”
You almost think that he buys that, before he stares at you a little bit longer, and you try not to shrink under his gaze. 
“People who are fine usually don’t take five minutes to wake up.” He says. You don’t have a comeback. 
“Yes, chef,” is the only thing you can say as you turn and walk back into the kitchen quickly, avoiding eye contact with him and making it through the rest of the day without needing another break, and without giving him a chance to talk to you again before you clock out that day. You don’t even stop by the office to say goodnight.
It was months ago, one time, and it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Not at work, not in the middle of a rush. That was just your luck, you guess, that you would get caught up working front-of-house, running between taking orders with Richie and handing out plates whenever you heard somebody yelling “Hands!” in the back, all while you hadn’t had anything more than water and a coffee in the morning in… fuck, you lost count of the days again. 
You pause to take deep breaths and sips of water when you can, but you guess it wasn’t often enough, because one second you’re picking up plates from the expo station and the next you’re collapsing, taking the dishes with you. 
When you wake up in a hospital bed afterwards, Carmy’s there. Slumped over in a plastic chair that can’t be comfortable, clad in a familiar checkered wool jacket. He’s asleep, but he’s here, and you don’t have the heart to wake him. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but your heart fills with equal parts guilt and gratitude at the fact that he’s likely been sat by your side for hours. 
You turn your attention away from Carmy for a second, taking in the rest of your surroundings. The cotton hospital gown, the uncomfortably firm mattress beneath you, the beeping of an EKG to your left, and to your right- 
Your breath catches when you see it. An IV bag, steadily dripping fluid into you through the needle in your arm, innocuous but sinister. 
“Shit.” You breathe out. Now you’re panicking. Now you’re cursing yourself for not being able to hold it together long enough to get through a busy hour, and reaching for the bag to get a better look at the text that you hope and pray details it’s nutritional information, but you quickly snatch your hand back when the privacy curtain is peeled away by a nurse checking up on you. 
The sound of the curtain rings scraping against metal wakes Carmy, and the nurse smiles apologetically before turning to you and explaining what you already guessed: you're in ketosis, you fainted due to low blood sugar levels and a high-stress environment, you should take it easy and eat when you get home. You’ll be discharged as soon as your IV bag is finished. Fuck. You nod and smile along with everything she says, lying through your teeth about merely skipping breakfast that morning and thanking her for her time until you can get her to leave you alone again. 
Well, alone with your boss, who’s silent through the whole conversation.
You wait for a minute after the nurse leaves, before turning to your right and carefully lifting yourself onto your knees to tug the IV bag off its hook and flip it over, desperately scanning the printed text. You can’t even bring yourself to care that Carmy’s there anymore, even when you can feel his eyes on you, witnessing your silent panic. You can’t help it. 
You swear under your breath once you find what you’re looking for. When you do the math in your head, it’s- fuck- it’s hundreds of calories that they’re pumping into you. You hang the bag up and sit back, defeated, unable to do anything but fiddle with the thin blanket draped over your legs and curse yourself for not being more careful. 
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Carmy asks gently after a few minutes, breaking the silence. You don’t know why that question makes your eyes fill with tears, even as you shake your head vehemently. 
“Nothing’s going on, Carm. I’m okay.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice neutral. He pauses for a moment, making you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll drop it. 
“I know what ketosis means, chef.” You hate him a little bit for catching on. You were so sure you were flying under the radar, you could’ve kept your habits unnoticed if you had just not fainted again.
“Well, like I said, I skipped breakfast. I didn’t have time this morning.” 
“Then why didn’t you eat family with us instead?” He insists.
“Because-“ 
“Why aren’t you eating, chef?” 
You know he’s just concerned, as your boss, he can’t have you passing out at work so much. But you also can’t help the irritation that rises in you at his persistence. 
“Fuck you, Carmen,” is all you can come back with, and he scoffs. “I felt weird intruding on family when I never eat with you guys normally. There. I’m sorry me not eating this one time got in the way of my job, it won’t happen again.” You try to explain, but you already know he’ll see through that.  
“One time, along with the other time you fainted out back, and all the times you’ve refused to even taste a new dish we’re tryin’ out.” Your head snaps up, and you finally take a real look at him, taken aback by the fact that he would even be bothered to remember all that. He meets your irritation with nothing but softness in his eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleads. 
You can’t take it. You tear up again, wanting, needing to fight against the temptation to tell him everything because, God, you don’t know how much more you can take. 
“I can’t.” There’s no hiding your emotion anymore, your voice thick with tears. “Carmy- I- I can’t take it.” 
“Take what?” He asks, his voice still gentle.
“Any of it!” You’re full on sobbing now, desperately trying to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. 
“Hey,” He almost coos, standing to move closer to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, bringing your head to rest on his firm chest, and you let him. You don’t object when his hand moves to pet the back of your head while you gasp for breath through your sobs, and he doesn’t object when your hands land on his back, clinging to the white t-shirt under his coat and relishing in the warmth radiating from him. 
He doesn’t push you to say more. He holds you while you calm down, your breath evening out eventually, enough to speak straight. 
“I can’t tell you, Carmy.” You finally say, practically whimpering. “I can’t get the help you’ll want me to get, because- I can’t stop. I don’t know how, I- I don’t know another way anymore.” 
He doesn’t reply, at first, taking in a deep breath while he lets your words hang in the air. 
“Okay.” He says quietly. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” You’re relieved at his acquiescence. You don’t think you can take fighting with your boss on top of everything else you have going on. 
“Thank you.” You whisper. 
“Can I ask you to promise me something?” He continues, making you pause, before nodding hesitantly. “Let me look out for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, just- don’t keep going at it alone. You’ll just end up back here again. Or, y’know, half-breathing and unconscious in the back alley of my restaurant. Trust me, I know.” 
You contemplate his words for a bit. You know he’s right, and you know you don’t want to end up in the hospital again. And maybe you owe him this one thing, for being here, for not pushing you like you expected him to, for not firing you after you interrupted his whole day with your bullshit. 
“Okay,” You say. “I promise.” He breathes what you think is a sigh of relief, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You stay like that for a little while longer, silent except for the beeping EKG machine and your occasional sniffle. 
“You’re freezing, you know that?” He says suddenly, and it makes you giggle; you haven’t held anyone close in a while, not long enough for them to notice you’re always cold to the touch. You know he’s smiling too, feeling his lips against your hair. 
“Lookin’ out for me might mean letting me borrow this jacket every once in a while.” 
“I’m okay with that.”
1K notes · View notes
melodygatesauthor · 5 months
Text
Always Yours, Never Mine
Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader
Universe Four - The Student
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Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings
Summary
This time I found you at a university. Of course things couldn’t just be simple. You couldn’t just be a faculty member or even a damn janitor, no…you had to be my fucking student. Why couldn’t things be easy just for once? It’s fine…I’ll just have to figure out how to work around it…
Tags/Warnings
NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, More tags on the masterlist.
Word Count: 5k
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It was a morning like every other.
You were on your way to your physics class, coffee in hand and your two friends on either side of you, Mira and Stacy. Mira had a skip in her step, excited about a guy she met at the coffee shop just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes, too concerned with the results of last week’s test in Dr. O’Hara’s class to be bothered with your friend’s endeavors.
“Hey!” Stacy screamed your name, grabbing your collar and pulling you back from the street and onto the curb.
A car flew by you, stopping your heart in your chest as you moved back from the street two more steps. You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t paid any attention to the road. Stacy spat your name in a scolding manner.
“Jesus, you almost got yourself killed, what the hell are you thinking?” She shook her head.
“Thank you,” you said, taking a deep breath, “I guess I’m just…I’m so nervous about my test I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Clearly,” she agreed, putting both hands on her hips like a parent scolding a child. “I’m sure you did fine on your test. You said you studied right?”
The three of you started walking again toward the building where your classes were held.
“Yeah, I did, but I mean…the last test I took I failed, I can’t fail again.” You felt dread weighing heavy on your chest as the large brick building blocked out the sun on your approach.
Mira patted your back. “You’re smart, I’m sure you did fine.” She chuckled as she jogged ahead toward the building. “Besides! I’m sure that Dr. O’Hara would let you suck his dick for a better grade!”
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at Mira’s comment. She never ceased to say things that were embarrassing beyond belief. Everyone knew that Dr. O’Hara was hot. The man wore dress shirts, sure, but either he couldn’t find ones that fit properly, or he intentionally wore a size too small so people would know he worked out. It was hard to think about much else when his pectorals were so prominently displayed under a thin veil of fabric. It didn’t help either that his nipples seemed to be perpetually stiff, clearly visibly underneath his shirt, just like they were today.
“Good morning cl–”
Dr. O’Hara’s failure to finish his sentence caught you off guard, forcing your eyes on him as you walked the rest of the way into the room. You felt nervous, averting your eyes immediately and staring at the floor as you walked to your desk. After your friend’s inappropriate comment, and his lingering gaze, you couldn’t help thinking about things a student shouldn’t imagine about their professor.
Things like…what if you could suck his dick for a better grade?
He cleared his throat. “Alright class, I’m going to pass back your tests now.”
You’d done a fine job on your exam. Miguel’s predecessor, the Miguel of this universe, had already graded your paper and even put a little smiley face next to the number 87 in red ink. It was obvious that this one hadn’t made any moves on you, but he had taken a liking to you. That wouldn’t work in Miguel’s favor though. He needed you to be so desperate that you might be willing to go to great lengths to get your grade fixed.
The jealousy that stabbed Miguel in the gut when he realized that his alternate was enraptured by you made it easy to rid himself of the man. In fact, he felt nothing as he watched the life leave Miguel’s eyes. He felt nothing as he buried the man so far into the ground that no one would ever find his body.
It wasn’t that Miguel wanted to be predatory toward you, in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was clear that you were younger in this universe than in previous ones. Your birth date was the same, he saw it in your records on the school database before he took over for your prior professor, but the year was different. He’d already gone through great lengths just to find you, so what was a little manipulation just to have you? You’d be grateful in the end, he just knew it.
He passed the tests around, watching you carefully to gauge your response to his little note he made at the top of your test. 
Come to my office after your classes so we can discuss your grade and your future in my class.
You looked down at the glaring 62 on your exam with the note to meet Dr. O’Hara in his office later. A pit formed in your gut. The words, ‘your future in my class’, stuck out more than the rest. You gulped, hands shaking as you put the failed test in your book bag and turned your attention back to class. You hated that professors seemed to do that, handing out your tests prior to the start of class. How in the hell were you expected to focus for the rest of the class with the looming threat that you might be told to retake the class next semester?
He felt a little bad after seeing your face drop at the sight of the failed exam. In some ways Miguel missed the therapist. She was bold, more mature, and he felt like she was, personality-wise, the closest to you he had found thus far. In this universe you were naive, young, bright-eyed and inexperienced. In some ways that was exciting, thinking about how easy it would be to mold you into the woman he’d lost, or at least as close to the original as possible. In other ways he didn’t love the idea of corrupting you like that.
It didn’t matter though, in the end as long as he had you, whether by moral means or immoral, that’s all that mattered.
Later that evening, shortly after finishing your final class for the day, you found yourself standing outside of Dr. O’Hara’s office, knuckles rapping on the door in an uneven rhythm. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was deafening while you waited for him to open the door. Earlier you and your friends had joked about what you were going to do in there, but this wasn’t a movie, this was reality, and your professor wasn’t going to let you sleep your way out of a bad grade.
Not that you really wanted to do that anyway.
Your unusually tall professor opened the door, stepping back to let you inside. He was quiet when he locked the door, so quiet that you wouldn’t even notice he’d done it. You seemed a little smaller in this universe. Miguel wondered if it was because you were actually shorter, or if the fact that you were younger made it seem to be the case.
“I don’t understand why I got such a bad grade, Dr. O’Hara,” you turned to face him, failed test in hand, eyes already glistening wet with the threat of tears. “I worked really hard after you helped me understand it better.”
Fuck, he thought. His cock was already springing to life, slowly making his pants feel tighter while he looked at you. This was new territory that he didn’t know how to navigate. This wasn’t the type of person Miguel wanted to be, but he also wanted to start establishing his control over you now. If he could control you, he could keep you safe; he could have you.
“Yeah well, as you can see…” he snatched the test from your hand, “you didn’t do a very good job, did you?”
Something was different about Dr. O’Hara, you felt it as he ripped the paper from your hands. He was normally a very calm and collected type of professor, everyone loved him for that. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so harshly now. You clutched your book bag closer to yourself as though it would teleport you out of the room. He took a step closer, and you stepped back until your rear was against his desk. You felt trapped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he said, seeing the terror in your expression. Miguel’s intention wasn’t to make you fear him, but at the same time, he was willing to do what it took to make you listen for once, since your alternates didn’t seem to pay his warnings any mind. “Look, I’d be willing to…fix your grade.”
He’d hoped that when he said it like that you would get the hint so he didn’t have to spell it out for you. Surely you’d seen enough pornos to know where this was going, right? It would make it less guilt inducing for him, and a lot less scary for you, at least that’s what he was thinking. 
“Fix it how? Is there extra credit?” You decided to continue on like you didn’t know what he was playing at.
“You could say that,” he said, taking another step toward you.
There was no way he meant what you thought he meant. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating that you were supposed to fuck your way into a better grade could he? That was just a stupid joke you and your friends had laughed about, albeit frequently, but it was just a joke. He couldn’t be serious.
You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down to his tight-fit slacks and the way they were especially tight around his groin. You gulped, looking back up at his eyes quickly, trying to appear not to have seen anything. Maybe if you kept your eyes anywhere but on his bulge it would go away, and he would let this go.
But you wouldn’t be so lucky.
Miguel took another step forward, bringing a hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your skin gently. He smirked, feeling satisfied to touch you again. Spending all the time in the last universe, he’d almost forgotten what you felt like.
“I’m not going to hurt you, and if you just listen to me you might even enjoy yourself.”
No matter how much you told yourself to run, to kick, to scream, you just stood there while Dr. O’Hara leaned forward, claiming your mouth in his and melting into you. He lifted you onto the desk like you were weightless, pushing himself against you until he was almost laying on top of you. You kissed him back, but the rest of you was frozen, unsure how to respond. Should you even be allowing this to happen, or should you be trying to stop him?
What would you do anyway? Fight him off? The man was built like a damn tank. You could work out for a hundred years and still never come close to moving him. On the bright side, you would probably pass your class, though this wasn’t how you wanted to do it. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.
“P-please, Dr. O’Hara, s-stop–”
“Shh,” he whispered, kissing you deeper, “you want me to fix your grade right? You want to pass this class? Hm?”
He looked down at you, waiting for your answer, the guilt still nagging at him as he noticed a stray tear fall down the side of your face.
You nodded. “Y-yes, yes I do.”
“Then be quiet, and do what I say,” he demanded, sliding a massive hand up your skirt, his fingers teasing at the hem of your panties.
Your mind was racing with feelings you could hardly comprehend. On one hand, your body was tingling an overwhelming desire, a need to feel his touch in the most intimate way. His thick index finger tucked into the leg of your panties, knuckles sliding softly over your pussy lips. When he kissed you it didn’t feel like a dirty professor trying to take advantage, but rather a lover who wanted to take his time with you.
On the other hand, he was much older than you, and he was your professor. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t really interested in sleeping with him, despite the teasing from you and your friends.
That didn’t seem to matter now, he was pulling your underwear down your thighs and tossing them to the floor. He rubbed the pads of his index and middle fingers over your clit, forcing a choked whimper to escape your lungs. You thought about protesting his actions again, but decided against it. You didn’t want to piss him off, and you didn’t want to fail the class.
“There you go, honey,” he whispered against your lips, “don’t squirm too much okay? You’ll like it, I know you will.”
You nodded, unable to find the words to say otherwise. Dr. O’Hara pushed you down so your back was flat against the desk, his large hand pressed against your abdomen while his other started to undo his pants. You didn’t even want to look at it, so you stared out the window and kept your eyes trained on the gate at the entrance to the college campus. He exhaled a low and deep breath as he dragged the tip of his cock along your folds.
“Look at me, hermosa,” his voice was low, but still demanding.
You complied, turning your head slowly to look at him. Miguel tried to convince himself that you would come around, that you were just nervous for your first time together. He wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t delusional either, but he needed to believe that you would come around, because working with the you that was right in front of him was better than the unknown of whatever versions he may encounter in other universes. ‘The devil you know’, and all that.
“Hold on tight, honey,” he warned, sliding his dick through your slick entrance. He couldn’t even make it halfway in before it was too tight. “F-fuck baby…shit.”
You cried out, all of your resolve falling to the wayside. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad.
“Dr. O’Hara pleas–”
Before you could even finish your plea his hand was covering your mouth. He shook his head, eyes narrowing dangerously in warning. You tried to beg with your eyes, your small sobs blocked by the brick wall of his palm only serving to make his cock throb inside your cunt. You grabbed onto his forearm, gripping it so tight your nails dug into his skin, but it may as well have been a pillar, unmoving and sturdy while he kept your mouth covered.
“Honey, please,” he hissed, his breaths of arousal interrupting his irritated tone. “I know it’s painful now but if you just relax, I’ll stretch you out so it won’t hurt anymore alright?”
You didn’t respond, and Miguel felt the guilt in his chest. The guilt didn’t outweigh the delicious feeling of your hole squeezing around the mere three inches he’d managed to get inside. He slid forward a little more, your eyes rolled back in response, your breaths turned into labored panting while you took him further.
“You’re doing great, hermosa,” he encouraged, “taking me so well.”
Your legs tightened around his waist as your cunt stretched even wider around him. He was bigger than anything you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t get free from him. Finally he bottomed out inside you, when you looked down at where you were connected you could see a bulge in your abdomen. Your eyes widened in fear, as though seeing it made it feel that much bigger.
“Shh, baby, shh,” he cooed, rolling his hips back and then snapping forward again, forcing a guttural groan to erupt from deep within you. “That’s it, fuck, so tight-that’s-it.”
Miguel established a steady rhythm that was made easier by how wet your little hole got. At least you’re physically enjoying yourself, he thought to himself, still trying to ease the guilt brewing inside him. His free hand grabbed onto your thigh, leveraging himself even deeper. The sight of his fat cock bulging up through your stomach made him harder, if that were even possible. He thought, for only a second, about the fact that you might not be on birth control, but then decided he didn’t really give a shit.
Your makeup was ruined, black rivers running down your cheeks while you cried even harder. When Miguel looked down at where your pussy was split around his dick he could see why, you’d made a bloody mess between both your bodies. He questioned why he thought that was hot. Causing you pain shouldn’t feel that good, but it did, the sight of your blood making his pace even faster.
“Didn’t know you had such a little pussy,” he breathed between thrusts, “so tight, so-wet-fuck.”
When Miguel thought about it, the two of you - himself and you from the original universe -, never got that rough. It wasn’t something he knew he would like, having power over you like that, causing you pain and listening to your cries. Hearing you whimper now though, laying on his desk with your legs wrapped around him while he split you open, was making him feral. If making you cry was bad, then why the hell did it feel so fucking good?
“Are you going to come for me, honey?” He asked in a low whisper.
You didn’t answer, you just kept your eyes on his, a silent prayer that he would stop. He couldn’t stop now though, he was so damn close.
“Next time m-maybe, holy-shit-fuck-fuck-FUCK!”
His hips snapped forward, stuttering and halting against yours. You felt the searing hot ropes of his spend while it spilled inside your walls, cock throbbing and stretching you further with every spurt. His breathing was deep, low, and you guessed that if he weren’t afraid of being caught he would be much more vocal. He tossed his head back, using the hand that was on your hip to push his hair from where it fell into his eyes.
Once he was finished, Miguel released your mouth, the post-orgasm clarity making his guilt take over tenfold.
“Shit,” he muttered, pulling out of you, the sudden feeling forcing a quiet cry from your swollen, trembling lips.
You didn’t speak. Now that he was finished you didn’t have words to say. What could you say? ‘You’re a monster’? ‘How could you do this to me’? ‘Why would you do this to me’? None of his answers would matter, and part of you still wondered if you’d asked for it some way. What else did you think your professor wanted you to come into his office for after all the classes had ended for the day? The red flags had been waving in your face and you ignored them. Maybe, somewhere deep down, you wanted this all along.
“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from Miguel’s stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”
Miguel shot up in bed, quickly realizing that he was dreaming, the reminder of that day still so fucking clear in his mind.
He looked at the calendar sitting above the coffee maker in his apartment. Well, his apartment. It had already been four long weeks that he’d spent in that universe trying desperately to get you to like him. He could tell by the look on your face though that you were still terrified of him. 
He wondered if he should just leave, call it quits for this universe and move on to the next one. Miguel couldn’t shake the probability that something might be worse in the next universe though. What if he traveled there only to find that you were already dead? What if the next ten universes took him years to get through and eventually he was too old to keep looking for you? No matter how he looked at it, logically speaking, it was still better to try and work with the you in front of him, than to risk the unknown.
You couldn’t put into words the way you felt when you saw Dr. O’Hara every week in your physics class. You started sitting toward the back, hoping some other girl might grab his attention instead, but it never worked. He continued to summon you to his office in the late evenings, and he continued to fuck you until you could barely walk your way out of his office.
He terrified you.
And that terrified him.
“Dr. O’Hara,” the head of student affairs walked into Miguel’s office, pushing the already ajar door open and stepping inside.
“Oh, hi, Janice,” Miguel said, feeling his body become tense.
You better not have opened your fucking mouth, he thought.
“One of your students…” your name coming out of her mouth made him start to sweat, “...came to me and said she would like to drop out and take this class another semester. She said it doesn’t fit into her schedule right now so we need you to sign–”
“Halfway through the semester?” He asked, tone sharper than he intended. “No. She’s doing so well it would be a mistake.”
“It’s not really up to–”
“What’s the cutoff date for this kind of thing? Isn’t there always a cutoff date?”
“This Thursday is the–”
“No.”
“You don’t really have a choice.”
“Let me talk to her.”
The woman sighed, handing him the paper, “I think it’s a mistake too, for the record. It would be a shame to have to do all that work all over again.”
The woman left, the sound of her clicking heels fading as she walked down the hall. Miguel looked at the sheet of paper, hands shaking as he looked down at your signature. There it was. The same signature on your fucking marriage certificate, right there, telling him that you’d had enough and wanted to leave him. 
He slammed his office door and walked over to his bag, the one where he kept your wedding photo. He hadn’t looked at it much since he’d left the original universe. The image of the two of you together brought him nothing but pain. He wanted you back so badly he was willing to rape a poor college girl that looked just like you in order to live in a fantasy that, deep down, he knew would never really hold a candle to the reality he once had.
Looking back he remembered the day of your wedding, the way you looked took his breath away. He was still mad that the therapist hadn’t worked out, if only she’d listened. Even the barista wasn’t too bad. She was a bit mouthy, but…no, he couldn’t stand the damn barista. She was a lost cause the moment she broke up with him.
Something told him that this version of you, the student, wasn’t going to work out from the beginning. He wanted it so badly though. When he tried to imagine a world where he could be happy with that version of you, he couldn’t. Even in the event he was able to convince you to marry him, or hell, even go on a date with him, he knew it would be all done in fear. You’d never look at him the way you did. 
You would never love him.
You startled him when you opened the door to his office unannounced. You could tell because he scrambled to put something into his bag as you entered. His gaze was still so harsh, and you thought maybe you shouldn’t have come at all, but you were afraid your consequences would be harsher if you ignored his long standing request to meet him in the office during the evenings. You closed the door behind yourself, knowing that he would probably do it anyway if you didn’t do it yourself. 
This is the last time, you thought. You do this one more time and then you’re done.
You hoped that by giving him what he so clearly wanted from you one last time, and perhaps being mature about it, you could convince him to let you go.
“D-Dr. O’Hara I–”
“You’re trying to drop out of my fucking class?” He snapped, eyes shooting spears through you.
You gulped, stepping toward the door, immediately regretting closing it behind yourself.
“W-well yes but I came to, um…well I thought we could–”
“Thought we could what?” He asked, standing quickly.
Regardless if you’d never love him, he was going to have to work with what he had, and right now he had a crying twenty something in front of him who was willing to do anything he said.
“We can do it just one more time and then I want to leave your class,” you whispered.
Dr. O’Hara strode over to you slowly, each step a booming quake that tore through what little determination you’d had when walking in there. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, leaning forward so his lips were against your ear. You hated that your body had become conditioned to react pleasantly to his touch, a tingling sensation spreading down to your core.
“What did you say?” He hissed against your ear.
You couldn’t speak. You wanted to repeat yourself. You wanted to convince him that this was what was best for both of you since getting caught would surely end his career. No matter how much you willed yourself to speak though, not a fucking word came out. The only sound you made was a pathetic whimper, a dumb little sound that you knew he liked; he always moaned whenever you made it. 
“That’s what I thought, hermosa,” he whispered, “you can come back to my office tonight, and I’ll take good care of you like I always do, hm?”
He let go of you and stepped back, eyes scanning over your body and taking it all in as he had so many times before.
“Well, I-I can’t come tonight,” you admitted hastily, as though you might choke on the words if you didn’t spit them out.
“Why?” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes snapped to yours.
“Well my friends and I were going out tonight and–”
“No,” he said firmly, “you’re coming back here.”
Perhaps he’d said it too harshly, but knowing that there was a good possibility that this was the night of your death, your ‘canon event’ as he’d taken to calling it, he couldn’t risk you leaving his sight.
You opened your mouth to protest, but the dark glare in his eye told you that arguing was futile. It was clear that whatever this had started as, an exploitative endeavor, had turned into some sort of obsession that you weren’t going to be able to get out of easily.
“Please,” you mouthed, keeping your eyes on the floor.
He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so much guilt. Could he really keep this up? Would he really be able to spend the rest of both your lives looking into your fearful eyes and convince himself that it was alright? As long as he had you it didn’t matter if you were a little afraid…right?
“I know this is hard for you to understand, so I’ll make it simple for you,” he moved to grab you, but you slipped under his arm and started backing away.
“Stop doing this, please,” you were trying to get away from him now, another sign that this was probably a dead-end universe for him.
Miguel couldn’t imagine much worse than you being dead, but you feeling so afraid of him that you died trying to get away from him was right up there. He wondered if closing his oversized office window would’ve still resulted in your demise that night.
“Honey, I’m sorry, if you can just come here and have a seat we can talk–”
“No!” You yelled, continuing to back up, the open window at your back.
Miguel took a step forward.
“I’m not going to hurt you, let’s just–”
“You already did!” Your lips were trembling, your whole body was tense, “Stay away from me!”
“Mi vida, please!”
He watched you hit the low-sitting window sill. The school would get sued, no doubt, for not putting a screen, or at least some form of safety precaution, in place to prevent your fall from three stories up. He looked over the window sill, watching the blood spread from your body outward, covering the pavement below.
Miguel genuinely felt bad. He didn’t know if it was because he felt like he was losing you again. No, this wasn’t really like losing you. This felt more like guilt around causing the death of some college student who happened to look almost exactly like you, but she wasn’t really you.
In all honesty, appearance was the only thing this girl had in common with you. So Miguel wouldn’t shed a tear for her, though he would hold on to the turmoil he’d caused you in that universe for a while. He’d wear it with him to the next one, like a pin he’d collected as a souvenir. That thought actually made him laugh. It was the laugh of a man gone mad, but a laugh nonetheless.
Maybe by the end of his journey he’d have a whole stash of pins. Perhaps he’d be so weighed down by them that he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. It was entirely possible that a suitable replacement didn’t exist, and that maybe he’d never find the perfect one.
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Miguel O'Hara Masterlist
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sopebubbles · 6 months
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Master List
Sixteen
Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.
Chapter summary: getting closer with the pack means you'll have to learn to live with Kim Namjoon.
Warnings: drinking, breaking things, yknow namjoon stuff.
WC: 7.6K
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After both your heats, you and Hoseok were nearly inseparable. When you were home, you followed him around like a little puppy, and he absolutely adored it. He appreciated how well you had taken care of his home and everyone in it while he was off his feet. When he told you as much, you assured him that it was your pleasure, and you would gladly do any chores he needed from you. 
But your housework wasn't the only thing Hoseok had come to love.
You had become his new favorite cuddle buddy, much to your tiny pack's annoyance. Any time he could get his arms around you, he'd have you settled right against him with a proud smile on his face. And you certainly weren't complaining. You'd never known that omegas' cuddles were the best. Soft and warm and sweet smelling. Being held by Hobi was bliss. You wouldn't admit it to anyone, but you felt a bit of jealousy every time you scented Jin's sweet, nutty smell on Hoseok's skin, knowing that he had gotten to hold your omega all night long.
It wasn't until you came home from work one afternoon a few weeks after your heat and Hobi pulled you onto the couch, insisting you take a nap, that you realized something was different. You could still smell the light fragrance of Hoseok's body wash, so you knew he'd showered a few hours ago. But he smelled like praline pecans. Nutty like Seokjin, and different from Hoseok normal brown sugar. A new blend of the two.
"I'm going to stop working," you said suddenly.
He pulled back so he could look down at your face. "That would be great, but why so sudden?"
You shrugged and nestled back into his chest. "I just want to help you here more. It seems kind of silly to be cleaning for other people when I should be here cleaning with you."
He couldn't argue with that. Yoongi had told him about how you had called their house your home after your last heat, and it made his heart soar. He certainly wasn't going to deny you the domestic bliss he had always wanted to share.
"I like the sound of that," he murmured into your hair. "I would love to keep you here."
You were anxious to tell Yoongi about your decision, but when he got home he looked stressed and dejected. His shoulders hunched in a way you hadn't ever seen before. Seeing him look so weary made your heart ache. You approached him quietly as he took off his shoes in the entryway. 
When you took his hand, one look into your sympathetic doe eyes was all it took to bring a genuine, lighthearted smile to his face. Somehow, one look from you and your tiny hands around his large one manifested energy from thin air. He pulled you closer and cradled you against his chest. Silent, except for a soft happy rumble in his chest, he held you like that for several minutes, but you wouldn't move for all the world, content to gently sway in his arms. 
"Was it a bad day?" You asked softly. He hummed. "Come sit down, and I'll get you something to eat," you told him as you pulled away, ready to take his hand and guide him down the hall to the kitchen. But he pulled you back, unready to allow so much space between you. He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms and legs around him.
"In a minute," he mumbled into your neck, where he took deep breaths of your scent, allowing it to fill his lungs and soothe his nerves.
You complied and let him carry you to the couch as if you were no more than a child. Even if he was tired, holding you was nothing, not compared to the benefits. 
"What happened?" you pressed gently after a moment.
"Nothing, really." He didn't need to burden you with the DOA he'd had today. Car crashes could cause such carnage, and he didn't need you to think of that. "I asked my supervisor if I could switch to a permanent day shift, but he denied me," he said after a moment of toying with your hair between his fingers.
"Oh. Why did you want to change?" 
"I was hoping it would allow me to spend more time with you," he admitted. "I hate that I'm not able to see you. One of us is always working."
"Oh." A smile tugged at your lips and you cleared your throat. "Well, actually, I was thinking…" He lifted your chin gently with his fingers to see your eyes and waited for you to go on. "I want to quit my job. I-if that's okay."
"Really?" He asked excitedly as he pushed you away to look at your face better. 
"Yeah, if it's not a problem," you answered quietly. 
Yoongi pulled your hips tighter against him. "Of course it's not a problem! I was never going to tell you to quit, but I was always hoping you would. But why now? Did something happen at work?" His expression turned serious in an instant. 
You shook your head. "No. Work is fine. I just feel like it's time to help Hobi out. And I can take care of you and Jimin. You're my pack after all."
"We don't expect you to cook and clean for us, princess," he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. Even though he meant it, he felt his heart flutter knowing you might want to.
"But it's my job."
"It isn't. That's not why we want you here. It's not why we're keeping you around. It never will be." His tone was serious. His eyes looked intently into yours. Heat flushed all over your body, and you tried to backtrack. 
"I know that, Yoongi. I actually wasn't thinking that way, which is kind of funny because normally I would. This isn't a-take-care-of-alpha-before-he-throws-you-out thing. I just care about you and I think about taking care of you a lot. Want to know if you're eating well and sleeping well."
Yoongi's smile returned, and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against your cheek. "Good. That makes me more happy than you'll ever know."
"Aish. I'm not really doing it for you," you teased. "I want to stay home and help Hobi."
"Ah, yes, you're new BFF," he teased back. "That's fine. I'm sure he'll be happy."
You nodded. "I'll put my two weeks notice in tomorrow."
"Why bother? Just quit. You're never gonna need another job again." He grasped the back of your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless.
"Aren't you gonna eat something?" You asked hazily, a long moment later. 
"Yeah," he grinned. "I'll eat you,"
"No!" You screamed amid your giggles as he playfully tried to bite your neck, tickling your sides at the same time. When you were gasping for breath, he scooped you up in his arms again and carried you into the kitchen. He set you down to sit on top of the kitchen counter.
"I'll fix something for you," you told him as he walked toward the refrigerator. 
"You stay," he ordered as he looked inside. "Did you cook this?" he asked, showing you a container of the leftovers from the evening's dinner. You nodded. "Then your work here is done," he said before placing the meal in the microwave. 
"I heard the sound of a happy pup," Jimin said as he entered the kitchen. You blushed when he stood beside you. He had been sitting in the pack's nest with Namjoon and Jungkook when they heard your screams and laughter. He wasn't the only one curious, but he was the only one who ventured out to see what was going on. 
Yoongi beamed. "Y/N has decided to quit her job and stay home."
"Oh, good thing you made that choice before Taehyung started courting you," Jimin responded slyly.
"What do you mean? Court me?" You stared at him in confusion.
Yoongi nodded. "It's true. He asked me for my blessing already. I told him I don't mind. He said he's going to take it slow, not jump into anything. But now you'll have plenty of time to get to know each other." Yoongi wriggled his eyebrows. 
Your voice caught in the back of your throat. Too many feelings swirled deep in your stomach, and you couldn't parse them out. "You don't mind?" you finally asked.
Yoongi gave you a soft smile and lifted your face to meet his eyes. "As much as I love our little pack, I've always known it wouldn't always be the three of us. I mean, I hoped. There's no rush, but I think some day it will probably be all eight of us. And that will be great, too."
You tried not to think about that possibility too often. It made your head spin. Seven packmates. Four alphas. You weren't sure you could handle it. "But I only want you to be my alpha. If Jin–" you cut yourself off abruptly. 
"If Jin what, princess?"
"If Jin wants to claim me, won't he be my pack alpha? But I only want you to be my pack alpha!" 
Yoongi couldn't bear how childlike you sounded. It made his heart hurt to hear you so anxious and confused. He smoothed a hand over your hair and pulled your head to his shoulder.
"It's okay, baby. Jin will never be your pack alpha. I'll always be your number one. You really think I'd let anyone take my place in your heart?" he cooed.
"What are you so worried for?" Jimin chided. "Who's talking about Jin? It's just Taehyung right now. He's a great alpha. You'll see."
You sniffed and pulled away from Yoongi when the microwave beeped. "Why did you say it was good I'm quitting my job because of him?"
Jimin smirked. "Taehyung could never allow his omega to work outside the home."
"Why not?"
"One, it's too dangerous. It would drive his anxiety crazy. Best to keep omegas safe in the den. Two, it would hurt his pride. He makes more than enough money to support you and Hobi all on his own. And three, Taehyung may have the disposition of a golden retriever, but even the sweetest dogs don't like strange dogs looking at their bones." Jimin grinned deviously. 
You pushed his shoulder. "I'm not a bone!"
"Oh, yeah? Just wait until he starts gnawing on you!" Jimin picked up your arm and pretended to bite it much like Yoongi had before, and again, you thrilled them both with your shrieks and giggles.
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While the days got longer and hotter with more sunlight, it seemed that each workday dragged on slower than they ever had before. You were diligently waiting your two weeks, but by the time you were nearly there, you wished you'd taken Yoongi's advice to just quit. You were aching to be at home every minute you were gone, and that was a feeling you had never known before.
When Yoongi brought you home on your next to last day of work, you walked into something you'd never seen at the house before. It was something of a party atmosphere, and they were all celebrating the end of the school year alongside Namjoon. Jin and Jimin had yet to return home, but Jungkook and Namjoon had beers in hand, chatting cheerfully at the kitchen table while Taehyung put out snacks on the counter. You walked carefully past them to wash your hands before you sidled up beside Hoseok where he was forming beef patties between his delicate hands.
"Hamburgers for dinner?" You asked. 
Hoseok smiled down at you and gestured to the side with his head. "You can slice those onions and tomatoes," he told you before you could ask to help. 
When the rest of the pack came home, you all accompanied Hobi outside on the patio while he grilled the burgers. Yoongi anxiously held you back from getting too close to the flames, nervous you might hurt yourself. The afternoon was lovely, and you all decided on eating outside to enjoy the spring weather. You spent most of the time clinging to Yoongi, either in his lap or next to him, holding his hand. He didn't mind in the slightest, nor did he mind the jealous looks he received from Taehyung, who tried to make the both of you jealous by fawning over Jimin. All of them were oblivious to the true reason for your clinginess.
Namjoon tended to stand quietly on the fringes of Seokjin's pack. His status was never in question, and he didn't shy away from sharing his thoughts and feelings, but whenever you were all together, he simply allowed others to take center stage. But tonight was different. Tonight was his celebration for another completed school year, and he felt no need to stay to the side and listen to others. For once, he dominated the majority of the conversation, discussing funny memories from the school year and a few complaints he usually tried to swallow. As the night grew longer and he drank more, his voice boomed louder across the large backyard and you pressed yourself closer to Yoongi.
When it got dark and the air turned chilly, everyone moved back into the kitchen. You were exhausted, but decided to help clean up before you tried to excuse yourself to go to bed. Everyone was having a good time, all of them drinking a little even though you didn't, and you didn't want to bring the mood down, but you were growing tired. When you finished washing the dishes you went to stand by Yoongi, who was laughing heartily to the story that Namjoon was telling. You could wait a few more minutes, but you didn't really want to go to bed alone, and you didn't want to miss out, listening to all their laughter from your room while you sat alone. As Namjoon continued his story, he gestured wildly with his hands. The condensation on the beer bottle made it slick, and the brown glass suddenly flew out of his hand, whizzing past your head in a blur. You were hiding under the counter by the time the glass hit the wall, shattering to pieces and dumping its liquid all over the floor. Shards of class popped around the room as you buried your head in your knees and covered yourself with your arms. A scream built in your throat, but you knew better than to let it out.
Don't scream. Don't scream. It'll only be worse if you scream.
The whole room went silent and motionless for two seconds as they registered what happened. Then at once everything was in motion. Yoongi got out of his chair to check if you were alright, but Taehyung was quicker. He didn't take a moment to ask how you were or assess the damage. He simply gathered you into his arms and lifted you off the ground, careful not to bang your head on the granite countertop. He carried you directly up the stairs and to your room, with Yoongi behind him and Jimin bringing up the rear.
In the kitchen, the remaining two alphas stood, frozen in shock, but Hoseok didn't waste any time putting on shoes and grabbing the broom.
"Hobi, let me," Namjoon tried to say, reaching for the broom when he finally came out of his stupor. 
The omega pulled away. "I got it. You stay over there until I get this all cleaned up. There's lots of glass."
The flat, subdued tone of his voice hurt Namjoon as much as the way Hobi wouldn't look at him. "It was an accident," he whispered.
"We know that, Joonie," Jungkook assured him with a light smile. "It's not like it's the first time you've broken something around here. It's just…" His eyes drifted toward the stairs. 
"I would never throw something at her," Namjoon defended. 
"I know, babe, I know. But she doesn't. It's natural for her to be scared. Don't take it too personally. She's just skittish," Jungkook tried to convince him. 
Hoseok felt a tug of war within himself. He was usually always the first one to comfort Namjoon when he accidentally broke something or made a mess. But now he really wanted to check on you, to make sure you weren't hurt or scared. He wanted to hold you in his arms, but he knew if he ran off with the others it would hurt Namjoon, and he knew that it wasn't really his fault. Namjoon was just clumsy, some might say cursed. He never meant to cause chaos, but he did anyway. You would get used to it, eventually, but right now the omega could understand perfectly why you were afraid Namjoon might hurt you without even intending to. His head swirled with competing worries as he swept up the glass and dumped it into the trash can. 
"Are you hurt?" Yoongi asked as Taehyung set you down at the edge of your nest. He shouldered the younger alpha out of the way to examine you. You were still too stunned to answer, but it didn't really matter; Yoongi was going to look over every available inch of you regardless. He gently tilted your face this way and that to make sure it was unscathed before he moved onto your arms, lifting and twisting each in turn to ensure your skin was unharmed. There was a small cut on your forearm and he frowned. It wasn't even from the incident that had unfolded moments before. It was from work earlier today, and the blood was already dry—you hadn't even felt it at the time.
"Jimin, go get the first aid kit from the bathroom," he instructed, holding your arms carefully. 
Feeling Yoongi's steady hands on you helped to ground you and bring you back to your body, out of your shock and panic. You took in a deep breath and breathed out, "I'm okay."
Jimin shuffled back into the room carrying the first aid kit and handed it to Yoongi. The alpha plucked out an alcohol pad and ripped open the packet with his teeth, spitting out the torn piece. 
"It's gonna sting," he whispered, but you didn't react as he swiped it over your skin. "It's dry." You looked down to the very minor wound he was tending to. 
"That was from work. It's fine," you told him, but he didn't seem to hear you. He had already taken a bandage from the kit—neon pink—and gently but firmly pressed it over your cut. "Yoongi?" He looked up into your eyes and you could see his own were full of worry. He shrugged. 
"It makes me feel better."
You cracked a genuine smile and it lifted some of the weight off his chest.
"Are you sure you're okay, sweet little?" Taehyung asked. His hands were still shaking from the course of adrenaline when he thought you were in danger. 
You nodded. "I'm okay. I was just scared. I'm not hurt."
"You shouldn't be scared at home," he replied.
"Come sit with me," you said softly, patting the spot next to you. Your heart ached to see how distressed he was over you. Taehyung lowered his head and came to sit near you, not quite in your nest, but just outside of it. When he got close you realized something the rest of them hadn't. They'd been too worried about you to assess their own well-being. 
"Tae, you're covered in beer."
He had been standing closest to where the bottle had hit the wall and, as a result, had gotten sprayed with the contents as well as some glass. 
"You're bleeding," you added. "Yoongi, your patient is right here."
Your alpha smiled weakly at how brave you were trying to be. He could tell by the way you were still shaking that you weren't as calm as you pretended to be, but he would talk to you about it in a little while when things settled. For now he turned to Taehyung. Without a word, he began to clean the man's wound, and you held his hand while he winced through the burn on the alcohol. You pulled a neon pink bandage from the box beside you and handed it to Yoongi to apply.
"Now we match," you told him, and it brought a bright, boxy smile to Taehyung's face.
"Why are you the one comforting me?" He asked, bumping your shoulder. 
"Why don't you go clean up and get changed? Then maybe you can come cuddle me in the nest?" You offered. "If you want to," you added quickly. 
Taehyung nodded enthusiastically. "Be right back," he said before scurrying out of the room. 
"Yoongi, you need to go downstairs and see if everyone is okay down there," you told him.
He growled softly, mumbling, "They can take care of themselves."
"Alpha," you cooed, reaching out to touch his cheek, "don't be like that." He pouted for a moment, but nodded and gathered the pieces of trash from his work before he took the first aid kit downstairs. 
"What about me?" Jimin stood proudly in front of you, fists in his hips, waiting for his instructions. 
"You come cuddle me until the others come back." He didn't waste a second, shucking off his pants and shirt. You'd gotten used to the fact that Jimin preferred to sleep only in boxers. Who were you to force clothes on him if he slept better without? After your heat, it had ceased to make you the slightest bit uncomfortable. He quickly climbed onto the bed, wrestling you into the nest and underneath his body, where he could get the upper hand on you and make the last of our distressed scent disappear as quickly as it had come.
When Yoongi reached the bottom of the steps, Namjoon turned anxiously to look at him. He was cleaning the last of the beer off the wall, looking rather like a pup with his tail between his legs. This was hardly a rare scenario for him, cleaning up his own mess no matter how Hobi tried to tell him to leave it. It wasn't the first glass he'd broken nor the first drink spilled. Namjoon was a walking disaster. He knew that. It couldn't be helped, and everyone knew that, too. But normally, everyone would stick around to help and cheer him up and comfort him when he made a silly mistake like this. This time, half his pack had disappeared up the stairs with you, and he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt about it. He regretted it. He always did, but he couldn't take it back, and he just couldn't change. He opened his mouth to explain to Yoongi, but nothing came out. 
"Is she hurt?" Hoseok asked from the sink, after Yoongi and Namjoon had stared at each other for several tense seconds. Yoongi's face was a cold mask of stone, revealing nothing but disdain. Namjoon looked utterly crestfallen. 
"She's not hurt. Just scared," Yoongi answered, shaking his head when he finally broke eye contact with Joon. 
"That's a relief," Namjoon sighed, and his face showed his relief was real. 
"Taehyung got cut up a little bit," Yoongi said sharply. It was petty, but he didn't want the younger alpha to feel as if there was no harm done, and he didn't expect Namjoon to care that you'd been shaken up. 
"Is it bad?" Jin asked, looking concerned. 
Yoongi shook his head again. "I patched him up. Y/N invited him into her nest to make him feel better, I think." He paused for a second, thinking about your behavior. "She sent me down here to see if anyone was hurt."
"We're all fine, Yoongi. Come have a seat," Jungkook replied, pulling out the chair beside him. 
"I should go back to her."
"Yoongi." Jin's voice wasn't raised, but it was loud and firm enough to have Yoongi freezing as he turned away. He hugged the first aid kit to his stomach and dropped his chin. "I'm sure Jimin and Tae are taking perfectly good care of her. Come sit for a minute."
Yoongi hated the way it felt like he was in trouble, when he knew he had no reason to be. He hadn't gone and ruined a perfectly nice evening, or spooked his very nervous omega. But he turned and walked slowly to the table to sit anyway. 
"You know it was an accident," Jin said calmly.
"I know," Yoongi answered curtly.
"Just let him apologize." Jin's voice was the slightest bit pleading, as if he were desperate to avoid more conflict between his alphas.
"I really am sorry, Yoongi. I would never–"
"You don't need to apologize to me," Yoongi interjected. "I'm not angry. Maybe if she'd been hurt…but I know you can't control your body. You've never been able to. I get that. But she doesn't know. She's terrified you will hurt her, just by accident. And with you accidents are bound to happen."
"I–" Namjoon began, but the other alpha didn't let him finish. 
"Do you know how it hurts me to see her afraid? After all the horrors in her life, I only want to keep her from feeling afraid. I don't just want her to be safe. I want her to feel safe. And if she can't then we…If she can't feel safe with you…" The look of pure devastation on Yoongi's features hurt Namjoon more than any other thing could have.
"What can I do, Yoongi? Tell me. I'll make it right," he begged.
Yoongi sighed, desperate to keep himself together. "If you and her are going to live in the same house…if you're going to spend the whole summer together, you have to try to be gentler. Please try."
Namjoon reached across the table to lay his hand over Yoongi's where he clutched the kit still.
"I will try. I promise. I'll be more careful," Namjoon assured him. Yoongi merely nodded silently, unsure if that would be enough to settle all your nerves about the pack's largest alpha. As if he could read Yoongi's mind, Jin cleared his throat. 
"I think, maybe, Y/N might feel a little more comfortable with us if she could see that you're comfortable with us," he suggested quietly. Yoongi's eyes flickered to the pack alpha's and then back to his hands. 
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Jin sighed, "you're still holding us at arms length. I get maybe you still want to punish us for what we've done. I don't want to tell you how to feel or to get over it. But how could she ever trust us if she knows you don't?"
"She'll come to her own conclusions,"Yoongi mumbled. 
"So you admit that you still don't trust us? You're still angry with me?" Jin sounded frustrated, but Yoongi could hear that really he was just heartbroken. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, knowing that his distance was hurting Jin. He wasn't really angry anymore. He hadn't found the time or energy to be angry. Any spare thought he had went directly to you. Maybe it was unfair, because he knew clearly in this moment that he still carried plenty of love in his heart for Jin and Namjoon. 
"I'm not angry," he answered. "I just don't know what you want me to do. I've stayed. I've brought her here—sometimes against my better judgment—I don't know what I'm meant to do to fix things. They just have to heal in their own time." He shrugged. 
"But how can they when this is the longest conversation we've had in weeks?"
"I don't know, Jin. It's just not my priority right now!" Yoongi snapped. 
"Okay!" Hoseok interjected, coming closer to the men seated at the table for the first time. He'd been hesitant to interfere in the alphas' problems, but he knew both men well enough to see they were on the verge of saying things they didn't mean and would regret later. As soon as he approached, Jungkook's linen scent fluffed through the room, easing away the alphas' tension. "It's all okay. We don't have to solve it all tonight. It's late, and I think we should all just go to bed. Hm?" Hoseok put his hands on Jin's shoulders and gave a squeeze, satisfied when his shoulders relaxed. 
"Yeah, fine," Yoongi answered. He stood quickly, scraping the box along the table before he picked it up and moved toward the stairs. He didn't want more conflict. He wasn't trying to prolong their distance. But it was impossible not to want to keep them away when he wanted so badly to be close to you, and to keep you safe.
Yoongi stopped in the bathroom, relieved to hear the giggles of you, Jimin and Taehyung coming through your door. After tucking the first aid kit back into its spot under the sink, he brushed his teeth. Hoseok met his eyes in the bathroom mirror when he stopped outside your door, but neither said a word before the omega slipped into your room to see for himself that you were unharmed. Yoongi remained quiet when he joined the four of you. Jimin had managed to get you into a pair of pajamas and your hair was an adorable disaster from being rolled around in your nest. You'd settled now between Jimin's legs with your back to his bare chest, your attention on Hoseok until Yoongi walked in, but you only spared him a glance. He wondered if even Jimin could tell how hard you were forcing your smile and your happy scent. Had he noticed that your eyes lacked the shine they usually got when the beta scented you silly?
"Come to bed so these kids can get to sleep," Hoseok said to Taehyung while Yoongi changed into his pajamas. 
Taehyung whined softly. He'd only just been invited into your nest, and he wasn't ready to leave it already.
"Go on, Tae. Joon needs to know you're not upset with him," Yoongi encouraged quietly.
"Maybe I am," Taehyung mumbled. Hoseok reached for his hand and took it into his lap. 
"You know he can't help himself, Tae. Give him a break, okay?"
The alpha grumbled wordlessly, but you nudged him with your foot. 
"Go on, Tae Tae. I will be okay. My alpha is here." Taehyung's low rumble turned into a real growl, but you knew it was playful. 
"Two alphas are better than one."
"Three are better than two!" Hoseok added. He stood from the edge of the bed and tugged on the youngest alpha's hand to come along. Tae allowed himself to be dragged off the bed, but pulled back to give you one kiss on the top of your head.
"See you tomorrow, sweet little. Sleep tight," he murmured, and then he was gone.
Closing the door, Yoongi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you.
"Goodnight," Jimin said, leaning over you to kiss Yoongi, making sure you got properly squished in the process.
"Goodnight," you whispered with a giggle when you received your own kiss. 
You said nothing to Yoongi as the two of you cuddled together. Your head laid on his chest, listening to his slow, steady heartbeat as the house slowly went silent. You laid there, but didn't close your eyes, and Yoongi watched you without saying a word. You let the minutes stretch on until you'd been there for almost half an hour. 
"How come you aren't sleeping?" you asked softly. 
"You aren't sleeping either," he replied. You shifted slightly without moving away and traced his stomach with your fingertips. 
"It's hard for me to sleep without your snoring." You felt his chest rise and fall with a huff and looked up to see his gummy smile for just a moment. Then he looked down at you seriously.
"You don't have to pretend for me. You don't have to pretend for anyone, but especially not me." You shifted again, but this time he could tell you were putting space between you. 
"I don't know what you mean."
Yoongi grasped your wrist gently before you could move away from him. There wasn't far to go before you would run into Jimin, but he could only bare for you to move as far as it would take for you to look at him eye to eye. He rolled over and scooched down so his gaze was level to yours. 
"You don't need to act as if Namjoon didn't scare you. You're still scared now. I don't think I can convince you that you're safe right now, but you are. I'm right here." 
Your chest tightened at his words. You whispered, "I know," but it didn't stop your eyes from watering. Yoongi gathered you close, pressing you into his chest. 
"I'm so angry."
"It was an–"
"I'm angry with myself. I shouldn't have brought you here." He felt you try to pull away, ready to argue, but he held you tight. "I should have taken you somewhere else. The three of us could have gotten an apartment. Shouldn't have kept you here with such clumsy, stupid alphas." At this point he sounded as though he was talking to himself, mumbling out the thoughts he'd been repeating in his head for the last hour. 
"It's okay, Yoongi. I didn't get hurt," you tried to tell him. 
"But you got scared, and that's just as bad in my eyes." You managed to pull away from him enough to look up at his face and touch his cheek. "You're still shaking. Do you think I can't feel that? Jimin and Tae scented you, but you didn't feel safe enough to let yourself get all dopey. Do you even realize? I can't stand this, and I hate that you're pretending just so we don't feel bad."
"Yoongi," you frowned and stroked your thumb over his cheekbone. "I'm not pretending because of that. I'm trying to be brave because I want to stay. Namjoon terrifies me, but I like it here. I like living with Hobi and Tae…and you and Jimin here. I'm still scared, but not enough to leave. So let me pretend, okay?" Yoongi sighed, a sign he wasn't accepting this yet. "I may not feel completely safe, but I feel happy. I'm like a stray dog. I may never feel safe, not completely. I might always be a little jumpy. But that doesn't mean I don't love my new home, or that it's not a good home."
Yoongi laughed almost silently and buried his head in your neck. "Don't call yourself a stray dog."
"That's what I am," you replied, combing your fingers through his hair. "I came up to you with big puppy eyes and asked you to stay."
"That's definitely not how it happened," he mumbled. But when he pulled you closer and inhaled your scent, you couldn't help smiling. 
"I won't let anything happen to you," he breathed as he relaxed against the nest at last. 
"I know," you replied. "So I think we can sleep now."
"Go ahead. I'll watch over you."
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Your last shift ended fairly well. The library staff even brought donuts to wish you well. A couple of them who were betas even confessed that they were glad to hear you had settled in with a pack and would be staying home, because they often worried about you. You waited outside the library at your usual spot, pacing and checking your phone as minutes ticked by and terrible thoughts began to creep in.
What if they got into some kind of accident?
What if they dont want you, after all?
Just as you began to spiral into your worst thoughts, a familiar vehicle pulled up abruptly in front of you. Although you'd never ridden inside of it, you could still recognize Namjoon's blue volvo without looking at him, which you only did for the briefest of glances, just to be sure it was really him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, sounding out of breath as if he'd run instead of driven here. 
I wasn't waiting for you, is what you wanted to say, but you merely stood still and stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers.
"Um," he began awkwardly as he got out of the car without killing the engine and walked toward you until he was only a couple yards away. He scratched nervously behind his ear as he tried to start again. "I know you were expecting Taehyung, but he cut his foot on a piece of glass that wasn't cleaned up from last night, and Hobi took him to the emergency room about twenty minutes ago. Didn't they text you?"
You shook your head, remaining silent.
"Yeah…so I was the only other person home so…here I am." He looked anxiously at the car, like he wished you'd just get in and save him the embarrassment of standing here in front of you. "I promise, I'm a good driver. And we don't have to talk or anything, if you don't want to."
You stared at him for a moment longer before your tongue unglued itself from the roof of your mouth.
"Does Yoongi know about this?" 
Namjoons throat felt like sandpaper, and he seemed to shrink an inch. He shook his head. "I tried to call him but he didn't answer. He must be busy." 
You hadn't moved an inch since he arrived, and he couldn't help wondering if he was really that terrifying.
"I promise, Y/N, I'm not going to hurt you." The idea that you ever thought he would hurt him in a way he couldn't account for. He knew he wouldn't, but the idea that you couldn't believe that cut him deep. What would he do if you never learned to trust him? If you never let him close to you? It wasn't something he ever gave himself permission to want, so why did not having it wound him so? He shook his head clear of the questions. "You can sit in the back and pretend I'm just the chauffeur."
You lifted your chin in his direction and narrowed your eyes. "I think I'll just take the bus."
Namjoons eyebrows raised. You can't possibly think he's that scary, could you? But instead he used what he knew was the only way to convince you.
"Do you really think Yoongi would approve of that?"
Your jaw tightened. You knew he was right. Looking down at your phone, you hoped for a notification from Yoongi, but there was one from Hoseok instead. You swallowed thickly when you read it.
Sorry, pup! There was an emergency. Namjoon should be there to pick you up. I promise it will be okay.
"How do you know you'll take me home and not somewhere else?" You finally asked. Namjoon's eyes grew wide and he actually took a step back. He rubbed his hand over his hair as he tried to process your question.
"What makes you think I would do something like that? What did Yoongi say to you?" Your brow furrowed at the strange question. 
"Yoongi didn't have to say anything for me to know you don't want me around," you answered, an edge of bitterness lacing your words. Namjoon nearly choked.
"Y/n, that isn't true."
"If it isn't then why didn't you ever tell yoongi where I was when you knew I worked here? You and Jin didn't want him to know. You don't want me in your pack. I get it. It's fine. But you should know that Yoongi does want me, and if I don't come home there's no telling what he'll do." You were surprised by the firmness of your own voice as well as how sure you felt of your own words. Yoongi did want you, and you knew that was as fierce an attachment for him as it was for you.
Namjoon took several full breaths before he responded. "Y/N, I promise you, all I'm trying to do right now is take you home. I won't lie to you. I didn't want you to become a part of our pack at first but things have…changed. You're a part of our lives now either way. And I wouldn't risk losing Yoongi over you. I never would. So please. Just come home with me," he begged. While the two of you maintained eye contact—for longer than you had ever done before—he fought the instinct to grab you and put you in the car if you continued to protest, but he knew that would only hurt his cause. Just when he was about to lose this staring contest to you, your phone began to ring with Yoongi's ringtone.
"Hello?" You answered, only dropping your gaze from the alpha in front of you for a moment.
"Princess, are you okay?" He asked, sounding out of breath from the way his heart was pounding.
"I think so," you mumbled.
"I got a message from Joon that he was going to pick you up." You narrowed your eyes on the man in question. 
"Yeah, he's here." Yoongi sighed in relief. "What should I do? I can take the bus."
"No, princess. Just go home with him, okay? I promise everything will be fine."
"I'm scared," you said so softly that Namjoon couldn't hear it.
"I know, and I'm sorry, but you don't need to be. You'll be safe with him, and I'll feel better if you go with him than on your own. I've got your location on. If anything happens to you I'll be there as soon as possible. But you're going to be okay. Trust me?" It was that simple, really. If Yoongi was asking you to trust him, then you would. As long as Yoongi promised you'd be safe, you'd make yourself believe him. He wouldn't let you down.
"Fine."
"Good girl. I'll be home in a few hours and I'll give you a reward for being so brave." Your cheeks heated at his words, but you couldn't deny loving it when Yoongi sometimes treated you like a child. No one had ever treated you with such gentle care before, and it felt like real love.
"I'll be waiting." You hung up and looked at Namjoon again. He looked back expectantly. "Yoongi said to go home with you. So I guess that's that."
You walked around the vehicle to sit in the back passenger seat, as far from him as possible. Namjoon didn't say a word as you got inside his car and buckled yourself in. As he pulled away from the library, you kept your eyes out the window even though you could feel his gaze on you through the rear view mirror. He chewed nervously on his lip as he glanced back and forth between the road and the mirror, but he kept silent until he was on the main road between the library and the house.
"We should try to be civil, at least," he said at last, speaking as if you'd been privy to the conversation in his head instead of coming into the middle. You didn't respond, so he went on. "We're going to be home together a lot this summer, and it would be easier on everyone if we tried to ease the tension." He finished softly, perhaps knowing he sounded ridiculous to you.
"I'll do my best to keep out from under foot, if you try not to throw anything at me again."
Namjoon deflated with a sigh. "I swear it was an accident."
"That's why I said try."
"I'm just clumsy. I never meant to hurt you."
"Do you honestly think I haven't heard every excuse in the book?" You rolled your eyes. "It just slipped. You ran into my fist. You really should be more careful where you're going."
"Y/N," Namjoon interrupted, trying hard not to become distressed as he drove, but honestly, your words were tearing him apart. Did you really have no idea the effect you had on him? "I'm sorry. I realize I haven't apologized to you directly for last night. I'm sorry for being so careless. I really will try to be more cautious. But I'm also sorry that other people have given you reasons not to trust them, or alphas, or me." He pulled to a stop at a red light and turned in his seat to look at you. "I get that you have no reason to trust me, and that I have to work for it. That's okay. I don't mind. But can you give me the benefit of the doubt and trust that Yoongi wouldn't have me in his life at all if you couldn't trust me?"
At last, you turned your head to look at him. "Why does everyone always pull the Yoongi card on me?"
"Because it always works," he smirked.
"Fuck," you muttered, because he was right. For whatever reason, you trusted Yoongi implicitly. And Namjoon had a point. Your alpha wouldn't have a dangerous person in his life, let alone trust them to be around you. So you merely nodded to his request, and the man turned forward just in time to see the light turn green before he drove you the rest of the way home. 
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A/n: I don't feel like this has been my best chapter, but I would love to hear your thoughts on it! Thanks for reading!
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souliebird · 7 months
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 5]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
words: 4.4k
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It has been one week since you saw Matt Murdock on the evening news, and it feels like it has been a complete whirlwind. First, you reintroduced yourself to him and let him know he was a father, then you had a nice little outing, and to tie it all up, a trip to the doctors to confirm what you already knew. 
Matthew Murdock is the father of your daughter.
It is nice to have an official statement from a doctor and now you can start the process of changing Minnie's paperwork to include his name. You have to go to the courthouse to file for an updated birth certificate. Matt has very kindly offered to take that task on for you - he goes to the courthouse often for his job and he knows the ins-and-outs of navigating legal paperwork. You just have to go and drop off the right documentation. 
You had a brief call last night, after Minnie had been put down, and decided that you would visit his office today to do just that. You are going to kill two birds with one stone - hand over what needs to be filed and give Matt more time with his daughter. 
To your great surprise, your timid little Mouse absolutely adores him. She was not happy to have to be at the doctor's office yesterday and was on the verge of tears before he showed up. Her whole mood shifted, and she had spent the brief time you were in the waiting room and exam room telling Matt about different things around them. 
You have a feeling, when you sit down and tell her the truth, she is going to be thrilled. 
You told her that you are going to visit Matt at work today, and all morning she has been hunched over her sketchbook making pictures for him while you try to get in some hours at work. Try being the key word, as you've been thoroughly distracted by today's news cycle. 
You were half listening to a puff piece about something or other when breaking news flashed across the screen. A neighborhood in Connecticut has been leveled by some sort of explosion, killing hundreds. They don't know if it was an accident or some sort of attack - the epicenter of the blast was a school, so it could potentially be either. You pray it was a freak accident, some faulty pipeline or a weird meteor, because the world doesn't need any more horribleness in it. 
The idea that it might have been an attack makes you nervous. You've been through two horrible attacks on New York, and you didn't realize another big event so close to home would shake you so hard. 
It scares you that you have to raise Minnie in such a harsh world, where monsters of all kinds are very very real and you don't know who you can rely on. The police and government have been shown to be all kinds of corrupt and people who can shoot laser beams fight each other in the skies. 
You end up clocking out and going to sit with Minnie to get yourself to stop your doom-listening. She's got a few drawings scattered around the table and you pick up the one closest to you, smiling at her handy work. 
You recognize the shapes as her interpretation of people - oblongs with stick arms and noodle legs. Unknowingly, she's made her first new family portrait. There are three blob-people all holding hands: you suspect you're the big orange one with a smile, Minnie is the little pink one in the middle with what you guess are pigtails, and Matt is the black one with red eyes, who is also holding a stick. To confirm, you ask her.
"Is this one Mister Matt?"
Her head shoots up and a big grin spreads across her face, "Yeah!  And that's you and that's me and we're gonna go to the zoo!" There is a little flurry of motion and suddenly you are getting a picture show. She holds up the paper she was working on - there's another family drawing, but this time there's green scribbles all around you and a blue square with zig zags all over it. You guess that is some sort of animal. 
"You want to go to the zoo with Mister Matt?" You ask, examining her masterpiece.
"Yeah!" She says, pulling over another picture that you know are her versions of flowers, even if they are all different colors. "And the park!"
"And the park? Wow, that's a lot of things to do. Do you want to ask him if he wants to go to the zoo with us when we see him today?" Minnie eagerly nods at the question and that makes you smile. "Okay, we can invite him to the zoo. When are we going to the zoo?"
The question makes her bounce in excitement, "My birthday!" 
You laugh at her enthusiasm and give her a little back rub, "Exactly. We're going to go for your birthday. And get a big cake with whatever you want on it." That makes her a giggly mess and you temporarily forget all the bad things in the world. 
You hand her back her drawing before kissing the top of her hair, "How about you finish this one up and we get ready to go see Mister Matt? We can only visit for a little bit, because he's working, but I bet he'll love everything you made him."
Greedy little hands take back the paper and instantly Mouse is hunched back over her zoo scene, purple crayon in hand. You get up and go to make sure that you have everything you need to bring to Matt in order. You are extremely lucky that the doctor has the ability to print out things in Braille, so you don't need to make an extra stop to get things translated. 
You debate bringing Matt lunch, but ultimately decide against it. You don't want to push too much too fast, and you think it might be a little weird for his coworkers, to see a random person bring him homemade lunch. You know he hasn't told anyone yet about yourself and Minnie - he had shyly admitted it didn't feel real until the test results were given and you completely get it. 
You tidy up until you spy Mouse dropping her crayons into her bucket and cleaning up her drawing area. You let her do her thing, then approach, "Let's put your drawings with the other things we need to give Mister Matt. That way they won't get lost or wrinkled."
She nods like you've just said something very wise and gathers up her stack of papers before handing them over. There's five in total; the three she showed you and two more full of colorful lines. You decide you'll listen in on her explanation to Matt on those two, as you're curious as to what goes on in her little mind. 
Once everything is safe and ready to go, it's just a matter of getting shoes on. You go with your sensible sneakers while Minnie opts for her frog themed Wellingtons. The plan is for both of you to walk to the office, and after one final wallet-keys-phone check in your purse, you head out hand-in-hand.
It's mid-morning, so foot traffic is decent, but not heavy - nothing that makes Minnie too uncomfortable. Dark clouds are gathering on the horizon, and it makes you wonder if the rain that has been promised in the forecast will be coming sooner than expected and you are glad this outing is the only one you have planned. Taking Minnie around in the rain is never fun. It always seems like everything becomes more bustling in the rain and trying to navigate that with a crying toddler just makes you want to cry as well. 
But the promise of her new favorite person and mild weather has her walking like the born and bred New Yorker she is - a determined little pout with no nonsense steps. No one will be trying to sell her things on the sidewalks once she gets bigger. If she had a different personality, you'd want to teach her to say "Hey, I'm walking here" just to hear a toddler say it. 
As you spy the building Matt's office is in, you realize you should have sent him a text to say you were on your way. You did let him know vaguely what time you planned to stop by and he had assured you that they had no appointments - it was catch up on paperwork day - but that didn't mean walk-in clients hadn't come by. You're so close to already being there that you think the gesture is pointless, so you just keep walking until you get to the building.
"This is where we are going," you tell Minnie as you approach. You scoop her up to show her the business directory on the outside of the building. There aren't very many plaques to begin with, so it's easy to find the Nelson, Murdock, and Page one. "That is where Mister Matt works with his friends."
She leans out and feels over the embossed sign, running her fingers over the different letters. "'M'! For Minnie!" She says, pointing out the letter with a big smile. 
"Exactly. Mister Matt's last name starts with M, too. That word is his last name - Murdock."
That gets her to turn back to the sign, fingers dancing over the letters, brows knitting with curiosity, "How is it spelled?"
You spell out Murdock for her and Minnie repeats each letter after you. You do this a few times until she's able to say it out loud on her own. You don't know how long she'll retain the information, as spelling isn't really on the board yet, but you're happy she's interested. You set her back down and she makes a beeline up the steps, grabbing and pulling at the door with all her three-year-old strength. 
The lobby to the building is sparse, with basically only an elevator and staircase, with a door to what you suspect is a supply closet. "We're going up two staircases," you tell your daughter. 
"Two!" She confirms before taking off towards the stairs. You have a brief moment of panic that she's going to zip up both sets faster than you can catch her, but to your great amusement, she grabs a hold of the banister with both hands and pretends to use it like a mountaineering rope to climb the stairs. She even adds little fake huffs and puffs. You follow behind her, ready to catch her if she slips. She doesn't, and when you get to the floor Matt's office is on, she turns to beam at you, clearly proud of herself, "We did it!"
"We did it," you parrot, offering out your hand again. She takes it and you lead her to the correct door. The same plaque that was on the exterior of the building also hangs beside their door and Minnie astutely points to it.
"Murdock!" 
"That's right, it says Nelson, Murdock, and Page."
"Can I knock?" Mouse asks, raising her fist to do just that.
You hum, then gently explain, "This is business, which means work. For work, we don't have to knock. We can go in if it is open."
As soon as you say that she's opening the door and marching inside and you quickly follow her. 
Matt's law partners, Foggy and Karen, are in the reception area with a man you assume is a client of theirs, talking in hushed annoyed sounding whispers. He radiates intimidation, with a huge black eye and what looks to be a makeshift cast made of duct tape around his right wrist. The three of them turn to look at you and you get the sense Minnie had the right idea in asking if she should knock first. 
Your little one quickly latches onto your leg, turning timid in the space of a second and you can't really blame her. Part of you wants to turn and run. 
Karen recovers first, breaking away from the two exasperated men to step towards you and going into receptionist mode, "Hi. You were here last week to meet with Matt, right?" 
"Uh, yes, that's right. Is he, uh, available?" You ask, feeling like you no longer know how to speak English. The energy in the room is not a pleasant one and you very much feel like you've interrupted something important.
"He's on a call currently but I'll let him know you are here," Karen replies in a voice far kinder than what she uses to address the men behind her a beat later. She turns to them and points to the office you know is not Matt's. "In there. Now."
Foggy throws up his hands, like he's frustrated with whatever is going on and disappears into the other room. The man you don't know doesn't follow, eyes on you and your daughter as Karen crosses the room to knock on Matt's door before opening it and slipping into the office. You quickly decide you are not going to make eye contact with him, instead ducking your head and putting a comforting hand on Minnie's head. She's practically hidden herself behind your legs, clinging to your pants so tightly you fear they might rip.
"I like your boots," the man says into the quietness. You expect him to sound like gravel, but his gruff voice is rather soft, and you get the feeling he understands how to talk to children "My daughter used to have boots like those."
 Part of you wants to tell the man to not talk to your daughter, but that would be rude and just because he looks like he's been through the ringer doesn't mean he's a bad man. You decide to let her determine how she wants to proceed.
You feel Minnie poke her head out from where she's hidden herself. At first, you don't think she's going to reply, as you know how she is, but she surprises you yet again by mumbling out, "They're froggies." 
"Yeah? You like frogs?"
Mouse somehow tightens her grip, "I like animals." She presses her face against your leg, then admits, a little louder, "we're gonna to the zoo for my birthday."
That makes the man smile, and that changes his whole demeanor. Suddenly he looks friendly and kind and not like he's likely to stab you, "That's a good place to go for your birthday. How old are you gonna be?"
Before she can respond, the door to Matt's office swings open and Karen stalks out, followed by Matt, who seems much less agitated than everyone else. The blonde points to the unknown man, a little scowl on her face, "What did I say?"
The man holds up his hands defensively, stepping away from Karen and towards the office he was previously told to go in, "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'm going." That doesn't seem to help soothe her at all, as she grabs the man by the bicep and frog-marches him to join Foggy, closing the door behind them. 
"They didn't make you wait long, did they?" Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him. There is a cut on his lip that wasn't there the last time you saw him, and your instinct is to ask if he is okay, but you don't know if you are at that level with him yet.
So instead, you address his question, "No, no, we just got here."
He motions back to his office, a smile spreading across his face, and you almost forget about the cut, "Come on back and we can review everything." 
Minnie lets go of your pants only to take your hand again and you lead her into the other room. As you pass Matt, she looks up at him and gives a tiny wave.
"Hi, Mister Matt."
Matt's shoulders visibly relax at her greeting, and you can't help but start to smile, "Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?"
"Good! I maded you pictures," she says proudly. That causes him to pause as he starts to follow you into his office. You can tell he is surprised by the news - his voice gets a little choked up when he responds.
"You made me some pictures?"
"They are very good pictures," you advise, squeezing Minnie's hand slightly before letting go, "Do you want to tell Mister Matt what you drew for him?" She nods eagerly, so you point to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Go sit like a big girl and you can tell him."
She makes a dash for the chair, and you take the time to address Matt, "I'm sorry, I should have called ahead."
He shakes his head, and as he walks past you to go behind the desk, he reaches out and brushes his hand along your arm. A little shiver runs up your spine at the touch and you tell yourself the action was so he could orient himself. "Not a problem, I knew you were coming. How is everything?"
"Everything is good," you reply, a little shyer than you intend to. "I, uh, have everything for you. Is there anything else I need to fill out?"
Matt shakes his head, "Just a signature and date. You've done all the work for me already. I don't think I've ever had to file where I don't need to actually do anything but sign the document. It's a refreshing change."
"Do you know how long it will take to process?" You ask as you move to join Minnie in sitting. "The website gave multiple timelines and I just want to be realistic."
Matt takes his seat with a cocky grin, "Not long at all, I know a few judges I can ask to push it through."
You flush at the idea of him asking a favor to a judge on your account, "That's not necessary, Matt, I don't mind waiting."
He shakes his head, getting that soft look again, "I don't want to wait. I want it to be official in the eyes of the government."  
His words make you feel even warmer, and you distract yourself by pulling the file with all the paperwork out of your purse and pass it over to him. "Minnie's additions are at the bottom of the stack. The last five pages"
His fingers twitch slightly, and you wonder if he wants to flip right to those. You get your answer quickly.
"Minnie, is it okay if I go over the paperwork with your mom before you tell me about your pictures?"
"It's okay!" She replies, her voice much more cheerful now that you are alone with Matt. "Do you needs help?"
Her sweetness makes Matt smile more and he shakes his head, "Not right now, sweetheart. I need to read, and I can do that with my fingers, but after that you can help with some other things."
"Okay," she says happily, kicking her feet a little bit.
You catch her attention and motion to your purse, "Do you want a toy while you wait?" 
She shakes her head and beams up at you, "No thank you, I'm a big girl!"
Both you and Matt chuckle at her declaration and he moves to open the file. 
"There's multiple copies of everything," you tell him as you move onto business, "One printed text and one in Braille for the courts and the same for you. I have the same at home, as well. They are bundled in packets. The court papers are on top, Braille first."
He thanks you then begins to read the forms. Mouse sits up straighter in her chair to try and see what he is doing. She can just peek over the edge, and she watches in fascination as his fingers move over the pages. You wait quietly, not wanting to distract in any way. 
"Everything appears to be in order. We will just need a signature," Matt says after a minute. 
"Should I do that now?" You ask. The response is him offering you a pen, so you lean in to sign the various forms. As you set each document aside, Matt adds his own signature. It is silly how giddy you feel just having the forms finally completed. You don't know how long you've had just blank copies, waiting to be filed. 
"And done," Matt says with a final flick of his pen on the last page. "I'm going to the courthouse on Tuesday, so I'll get it processed then. I'll push to get an updated certificate as quickly as possible."
You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling like a crazy person. This isn't some dream or far off fantasy. Matt isn't just saying he wants to be Minnie's father. He is following through, with urgency. This is something he wants and it's almost surreal for you - you are so used to promises being broken and no one being on the same page as you in your desires. Even if this is all for Minnie and not for you, it is still on the edge of overwhelming for you. 
You never thought you'd be so happy over paperwork. 
"Thank you, Matt," you whisper, leaning back into your seat to sit properly.
Immediately, Minnie parrots you, thanking Matt even though she has no idea what is going on.
"No, thank you. Thank you both," he says, and you wonder if he is also holding back from smiling. He gathers the papers and sets them aside before running his fingers over the folder you gave him and addressing his daughter. "Okay, sweetheart. Do you want to come tell me what you drew?" 
You expect Minnie to stand on the chair and even prepare yourself to balance her, but that does not happen. She hops down and scurries around the desk to be at Matt's side and a moment later, he is pushing his chair back and she is climbing up into his lap. Embarrassment rushes through you - she's only ever behaved like this with you. She actually used to fuss and cry if anyone else tried to hold her. You haven't seen her sit in anyone else's lap since she had a say in who gets to hold her.
"Minnie!" You scold but Matt quickly shakes his head as he helps her up.
"It's okay, I don't mind," he tells you even though he looks completely shocked. If he wasn't her father, you wouldn't allow this, especially with someone so new to her, but he is her father, even if she doesn't know, so you don't tell her to get down.
Instead, you give a stern frown, "Minnie, you still need to ask before climbing on anyone, okay? Can you apologize?" 
Your little girl nods, then looks up at him, "I'm sorry, Mister Matt."
"It's okay, sweetheart. Like I said, I don't mind, but your Mommy is right, and you should ask so I know you are there. Next time, you'll know. Now, your Mommy said there were five pictures. Which do you want to start with?" He asks, scooting his chair back to the desk while wrapping one arm around Minnie's waist to keep her secure. 
Once she's able to, she leans in and picks up the first drawing in the stack. It is the family portrait, and you quickly get your phone out so you can record this interaction as Minnie lays out the picture. She then takes Matt's free hand and guides it to the paper before letting go to point at the circle that represents him.
"This is you," she tells him. He quickly finds where she is pointing and begins to trace the figure. 
"That's me?" And there is definitely more than a little bit of emotion in his voice. 
"Uh-huh, and that is me and Mommy and we're gonna go to see the duckies. Mommy said we can go again. But we're gonna get ice cream too. And a balloon," she says, moving her little finger all over the page. 
You watch Matt's finger follow hers - first over the doodle of himself, then Minnie's, and finally yours. Then, he traces back to the center figure. "We're holding hands?" He asks tentatively.
"Yup!" She answers, popping the p. "Mommy says we gotta hold hands if we go outside." 
Matt licks his lips a little and you see his muscles flex under his jacket as he holds Minnie a little more firmly to his chest, like he doesn't want to let go of her. "That's a good rule." 
"Mommy makes good rules," your little one replies wisely. That makes your ego sing a little. Mouse has always been good at doing what she's told, and you are proud that she understands your rules keep her safe.
Before she moves onto the next picture, you gently prompt her. "Sweetie, was there something you wanted to ask Mister Matt?"
Matt's head jerks up at that, looking right to you with brows slightly knit. Minnie bounces in his lap just a little, squirming so she can turn to look up at him, "I'm gonna go to the zoo! For my birthday! Do you wanna go?"
His lips part in surprise at the question and before you know it, he has both his arms wrapped around Mouse, hugging her to him. She instantly responds, looping her little arms around his neck and squeezing back. He rests his cheek against her head, and you see him slightly rock her from side to side. "I would love to go with you to the zoo, sweetheart."
Minnie giggles into his neck and you one hundred percent know that the transition to suddenly having two parents is not going to be hard for her at all. It might be confusing because Matt won't be living with you, but you have never seen her so comfortable with someone who isn't you. You know it's not just because he gave her a toy. They just click together so well.
You switch from video to your camera so you can sneak as many pictures as you can of Matt and Minnie hugging. They've completely forgotten about you and that is a-okay. 
In this moment, nothing else matters to you - not the strange man in the other office or the devastation a few states over or all the other trivial things that nag you and make your stomach turn. 
Your world is right in front of you and for the first time in a very, very long time, you really, truly believe everything is going to be just fine. 
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment
498 notes · View notes
Text
Silly
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Summary: Reader decides it's a great idea to lock themselves in their room for almost a month, figuring out a way to get out of the digital circus. Jax is not having them abomanalize in front of him.
Warning: censorship/censored cussing?
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You had randomly been thrown into the digital circus about a few months ago. Staring at the space and boards on your wall with a sigh, you slammed back down on your bed. 'It's no use! I'll never get out of here,' you thought angrily, putting your hands over your face softly. Did you even want to leave? I mean, you sort of had pomni. And ragatha. Maybe Jax, you chuckled at that thought, because you knew deep down you definitely had that rabbit. You, pushed the thought down though, because who would want you? Especially a guy like Jax. He'd obviously pick someone on the outside of the digital circus over you when you guys got out anyway.
Would you even get out? 'Oh god, not back to this questionnn!' You mentally groaned. You had been in your room for so long, locked away hunting for the exit, an exit, just.. Something to give you the peace of mind that you weren't trapped and the people you briefly remembered were still out there. Hell, you were probably on the verge of becoming one of those... Things. What was it called again? You couldn't even remember. Youd been in here so long you forgot a lot of things.
You sighed, slowly pushed yourself from on top of your bed to the floor. Your shoes making a little 'squek!' Nose as you did. You smiled. Sure, that was childish but that was one of the only things you liked about this body. It wasnt you, it didn't look like what you remembered, hell, if you even remembered it. You stared down at your feet, looking at your slippers smiling and grabbing your coffee from the desk.
Did people in the digital circus need coffee? No. Did you beg Craine for access to coffee with the same effects? Yes. You smiled, walking over to the door slowly, coffee in hand until the knob turned by itself. That can only mean one thing, you groaned and quickly took a giant sip of your coffee, before running over to the door to prevent Jax from seeing your whole room.
the door flew open and almost hit you in the face. Jax chuckled at this, but noticed the boards before you stepped right back into place to block his vision again. His eyes shifted to worry.
"Well, I'd say someone needs to knock." You said, putting your hand on your hip playfully.
"I did, twice. I'd say someone needs to let go of so much coffee." He retorted in the same voice eyou did, which made you roll your eyes and chuckle.
  "Jaxi, I've told ragatha and I'll tell you,
I'm fine! It's just a little... Theorizing."
You explained, motioning to all of it. Jax sighed, rubbing the space between his nose.
"You've [BLEEP]ing asked for it now, so your going to get the real, emotional Jax here, okay? Oh-[BLEEP]ing-kay." He said, practically shoving you back into your room, closing the door and locking it. he sighed as he stepped in, he really didn't know how to go about this.
"Jax, your kinda scaring me-" you said, before being cut off.
"absolutely NOT, n/n. You don't get to..lock yourself in this room for week's, almost a MONTH and then not come out at all, not even for food, and [BLEEP]it, EVEN I know that's not normal for you! And then tell me your scared of me, snapping at you! I'm so sorry y/n, but I REFUSE to let you sit by and destroy yourself like this, especially when you are so important to most of us. You are NOT abstracting. Not on my watch."
He said, breathing rapidly. And then, realization had just set in on him and you. He never snapped at you, sure he could be a prick but he never yelled, was he serious? However for Jax, it was the realization he had just yelled at you.
"I-" you started, but we're quickly cut off.
"Nuh-uh, hot stuff. Now that you've listened to the.. Overly emotional "Jaxi" in your words, we're going out of this..... Place." He said, practically glaring daggers through you while scrunching his nose at your room.
You nodded quickly, grabbing his hand. He blushed a dark purple, but shook his head to brush it off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Nono- shut up!" You yelled at him, he was using those stupid cheesy pickup lines on you again.
"Hey, are you a calculator? Cuz I could never leave you alone in school!" He yelled at you, almost laughing himself. You fell into the floor, holding your stomach with laughter.
Ragatha walked outside the tent, she needed fresh air, untill she heard laughter. She turned her head softly to see what was going on, and there you and Jax were. She smiled.
'they're so silly.' She thought, before walking off back into the tent.
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mercurygguk · 1 year
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if it’s not you · kth (m)
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↳ summary; Kim Taehyung grew up watching his parents fall more in love for each day that passed and he always longed for that great, passionate love himself. But if it’s not you? Then he doesn’t want it.
pairing; taehyung x f. reader
word count; 8,582
rating; 18+
content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst, a bit of fluff
warnings; making out, dirty talk, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cream pie, possessive/jealous and slightly insecure taetae <3
chapters. part one | part two
↳ listen to the playlist here.
author’s note; it’s here!!!! the taehyung fic i’ve been wanting to write for SO long ughhhdjsk i really hope you like it and that you enjoy it despite all the hurt and angst heh – please let me know what you think! comment, reblog, send me an ask – whatever you feel most comfortable with!! everything is greatly appreciated <3 thank you sm for reading muah
ps. a big thank you to @kookingtae​ once again for beta-ing for me and for helping me brainstorm for the smut scene <33 ur the best ily thank you for your support and help!
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Kim Taehyung is not sad.
Sadness is not what he feels when he goes out with his friends and spots two people all over each other, happy and in love. Sadness is not what he feels when he sits at home, watching a movie by himself. Sadness is not what he feels when his friends tell him they’re engaged and are having an engagement party to celebrate.
No, Kim Taehyung is way past sadness. 
If anything, what he feels is most likely something more akin to a feeling called ‘I don’t care anymore’... a certain, unexplainable emptiness. He doesn’t care that everyone around him is falling in love and getting engaged, he doesn’t care if two strangers are all over each other when he’s at a bar. He doesn’t care that all of his one-night-stands give him a nasty look when he tells them to leave in the middle of the night after having emotionless – I don’t care who you are or what your name is – sex with them.
Taehyung just doesn't care anymore. Or that’s what he thought, at least.
He thought that he wouldn’t give two shits when he saw you walk through the door, arriving at the engagement party his friends are currently throwing. He also thought that he wouldn’t care that some unknown guy was trailing right behind you, his hand tightly wrapped around yours.
But Taehyung should’ve known better. 
He should’ve known his mind would play tricks on him and pull up flashbacks to the day he lost all belief in love.
Two years ago…
“Kiss me,” he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. He begged you, the unsteady tone of his voice giving away that he was on the brink of breaking down if you didn’t connect your lips with his within the next few seconds. He was desperate, breathing heavily as he tried his best to keep the tears from welling in his eyes.
The last few weeks had been absolute hell. The apartment has been empty beyond measure, most of your stuff gone by now. You haven’t been in the apartment since the day you left and the only reason you were back tonight was because you forgot a few things. Taehyung knew you’d come, you had texted him to let him know just so that you wouldn’t be barging in on him at a random hour. One thing he didn’t realize though when you texted him was how much he genuinely hated all of this until you stood in front of him with a small, sad-looking smile on your face.
How you ended up in the bedroom, cuddling and now almost kissing, was unbeknownst to him and you as well. Taehyung had been sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as you packed your remaining things in utter silence. When you were finished and wanted to give him one last goodbye hug, he had made the first move to urge you onto the bed with him. It’s not that he had bad intentions with it. He just needed to hold you one last time before you’d move on for good. Cuddles then turned into him pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist, begging and pleading for you to kiss him.
“Taehyung…” You softly let his name fall from your lips in a sigh as you looked down at him from your straddling position on top of him, “we shouldn’t-”
“Please, ____,” he tried again with pain laced in his words, sitting up with you still perched on his lap, “please, just kiss me.”
[end of flashback]
Two years since he last saw you and talked to you. Two years of losing every ounce of belief he had in ‘the great love’ of life. Why continue to look for love when he already had the love of his life and lost her?
In Taehyung’s head, there was no reason to look for love when the person he loved more than life itself left him with only half a heart to live by two years ago. Even if he wanted to find another great love, it simply wouldn’t be possible. He lives with only half of his heart and you can’t love someone with just half a heart.
Not when someone else has the other half.
“Hey, isn’t that ____?”
Taehyung is pulled from his thoughts by Jimin, his best friend since high school and the only person who would be able to recognize his ex-girlfriend from miles away – even after two years have gone by.
“Yep,” Taehyung curtly replies and brings his drink to his lips, taking a long sip. The heavy, dark taste of whiskey burns his throat on the way down but he welcomes it, suddenly in desperate need of feeling something that isn’t the tug on the strings of his half heart.
Jimin’s face scrunches up in confusion, “who’s the guy?”
I don’t know, Jimin. Does it look like I’ve stayed in touch with her since she walked out on me? Do you think she’d be across the room, in another man’s embrace, if I had stayed in touch with her?
Instead of saying that, Taehyung shrugs ‘carelessly’ and takes another sip of his drink, eyes following you as you and your date move towards the newly-engaged couple. 
He can’t take his eyes off you.
You look so different and yet the exact same. 
Every move of your body and expression on your face twist in the most beautiful, hypnotizing way as always. Your hair is shorter, he notices, but it suits you. You’re glowing from across the room and your smile lights up the entire apartment when you throw your head back in laughter.
It travels across the room and reaches Taehyung’s ears, cutting straight through the music flowing from the stereo. The pretty sound causes his chest to fill with a familiar warmth. Except this time it isn’t him who’s on the receiving end of your smile and gentle touch; your date is. As much as it bothers him, Taehyung can’t stop watching you as you talk with the hosts, wishing them congratulations on their engagement, and handing them the gift you brought along. And then you introduce the man next to you, a bright smile on your face as you watch them shake hands. 
Something vile rises within Taehyung at the sight. He knows he has no right to feel like this but something about the way you’re introducing this random guy to you and Taehyung’s shared friends doesn’t sit right with him. It used to be you and him, attending every get-together together. You always arrived hand in hand, all smiles and good vibes because nothing could stop the two of you from touching each other, from being attached at all times – from being in love.
“Jia didn’t mention anything about a new boyfriend,” Jimin mutters from next to Taehyung. The annoyed glare he shoots at his best friend causes Jimin to shrug innocently, “I mean – I think, of all people, she would know if ____ was seeing someone.”
Jia is a shared friend between you and Jimin. While Jia is one of your best friends, Jia and Jimin are more than friends but not quite enough to be considered a couple. They will get there eventually – Jimin just needs to get his head out of his own ass and ask the poor girl on a date instead of only showing up at her doorstep for some fun in bed. Jia is waiting patiently for him to make the next move but Jimin isn’t that smart when it comes to serious relationships.
“Don’t you have something else to do rather than talking my ear off about my ex and her date?”
The bitterness on Taehyung’s tongue feels odd but he can’t help it. He hasn’t seen you once in two years after you left that night and now you’re here, looking beautiful as ever with another man by your side. 
Jealousy has never been something Taehyung cared much for. He never had a reason to but as you let your date wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer, the jealousy washes away every rational thought he’s had since he saw you walk through the door.
Jimin mumbles something under his breath before he disappears from Taehyung’s side, leaving him to stand there while rolling the glass of whiskey in his hand, dark and glaring eyes shooting daggers at the man you brought along tonight.
However, it seems his glare from across the room also grazes you as you turn your head to look around. Taehyung’s breath hitches in his throat when your eyes meet his and he can tell you let out a gasp once you realize just who exactly you’re locking eyes with. Your date asks you if something’s wrong and you shake your head in response, telling him it’s nothing.
Taehyung’s body heats up with a familiar tingling feeling that feels all too normal and yet it’s a strange sensation. He hasn’t felt what he just felt in two years, the different women he’s slept with or been out with have never once caused warmth and excitement to spread through his entire body as the ones he just felt. Not a single woman has managed to trigger Taehyung’s interest in more than just a one-night-stand.
But, of course, it’s you.
Who else would light a fire in his soul but the same woman who blew it out a few years ago?
The irony almost makes Taehyung huff out an unimpressed chuckle. He fights it and pushes it back but it's no use as you decide to raise your hand and give him a small wave, a hesitant smile on your lips as you do. Taehyung lets the chuckle leave him, shaking his head in disbelief, watching your smile falter into a soft frown.
You left him.
You walked out of the door two years ago and dropped off earth’s surface until tonight. Taehyung only knew you were alive and well thanks to social media and your circle of shared friends, not that it was much help. His so-called friends weren't very cooperative every time he’d ask about you. Especially when he would visit Jimin and Jia would be there – that woman kept all the news about you behind locked lips whenever Taehyung was around.
So, when it really comes down to it, Taehyung has no idea what you've been doing for two years. All he knows is that you went overseas to live and work there, making the distance between you and him bigger than he’d expected when he watched you walk out of the home you once shared. Taehyung doesn’t understand why you bolted out of the country as soon as you could – what you went looking for, he doesn’t know. Probably no one knows – except for your parents maybe. 
All Taehyung is hoping for is that he wasn’t the reason.
Thoughts like ‘how long have you been seeing this guy’ and ‘did you even think about me once while you were overseas, living a brand new life’ fill Taehyung’s head as he downs the rest of his drink. He steals one last glance at you, catching your eyes for a split-second before heading towards the kitchen of this penthouse apartment he currently finds himself in. He can feel your eyes on him as he slips his way through other guests but he keeps his own eyes focused on the whiskey bottle he spots on the kitchen island.
Once he reaches it, he uncaps it and pours himself another glass. He takes a swig of the brown liquor, sighing deeply as he feels the strong and burning sensation in his throat. 
“Slow down there, tiger.”
Taehyung freezes in his spot, his glass of whiskey halfway to his lips to take another slurp when a familiar voice fills the kitchen. His chest tightens for a split-second before he turns around to face the person he’s been thinking about non-stop since she left. 
You’re flashing a smile at him when he turns around, one that doesn’t really reach your eyes as your real smile would. He notices because he always notices. It’s one of the many things you can’t hide from him. No matter how much you try to plaster on a fake smile, he’ll always know when it’s real or not. 
When he doesn’t reply to your teasing comment, you pull your lips into a thin line as you cautiously step closer.
He can’t stop staring at you. 
When you left your shared home two years ago on the worst night of Taehyung’s life, he had no idea when he would see you again. Back then he had hoped you’d regret your choice of moving out and come back to him, tell him that you made a mistake, that not being with him was the only thing you couldn’t get yourself to do.
But it never happened – and two years passed.
“How have you been?” You ask, voice small and careful as if you’re afraid he’ll scream at you and throw all his pent up anger at you as the first thing.
Taehyung finally manages to take his eyes off you, shifting them to look at the glass of whiskey in his hand. He swirls the liquid around a few times before looking up again, a faint and slightly sad smile on his face.
“Okay,” he responds. “Given the circumstances, that is.”
He can tell that you know exactly what he means, the frown on your face giving it away. It makes a short chuckle leave his lips because it’s kind of comical how you haven’t seen each other in two years and the first time you meet again is at an engagement party – the type of party you were both so sure you’d throw sooner or later had it not been for the fact that the universe wanted it differently.
“You brought a date,” Taehyung breaks the silence hanging over you.
Your lips part in surprise. You did not expect your ex-boyfriend to ask about your date, but then again, you should’ve seen it coming. 
“Uh, yeah, he’s–” you begin, not sure what or where to start. Taehyung watches you intently, curious to hear your response. You feel a strong urge to explain yourself to him, why you don’t know. “It’s nothing serious– it’s very new, so…”
“I see,” Taehyung hums and takes another sip of his whiskey, the alcohol still burning and strong on his tongue.
“Hey, about–,” you begin but the shake of Taehyung’s head causes you to stay quiet.
“We don’t have to do that,” he simply says. You frown deeply as he glances over your shoulder at your date. “I’m over it and it seems you are too.”
“But–”
“It’s good to see you again, ____.”
With that Taehyung grabs the half empty bottle of whiskey off the table and leaves the kitchen, a breath of relief escaping him. It’s gonna take a lot of alcohol to get through tonight with you being in the same room, so close yet so far – not his to touch or hold, the only thing that is his are the memories of doing exactly that in the past.
And nothing has ever left a more bitter taste in his mouth before.
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As the party carries on, Taehyung has been drinking more whiskey. He’s not drunk per say but he’s definitely tipsy and it shows as he stands in a corner alongside Jimin and Namjoon. He’s not paying attention to their conversation, too busy watching you and your date mingling. 
Taehyung is not much for admitting it but he’s been keeping an eye on your date all night, watching how he acts around you. He’s not afraid to touch you, that’s for sure, the constant placement of his hand on your lower back is a giveaway. However, he hasn’t seen the two of you kiss or anything of the sort ever since you arrived. It’s odd because, of all people, Taehyung knows that you’re not one to shy away from PDA. You were never big on it but you never despised it either.
“Tae, stop staring,” Jimin’s voice penetrates his focused thoughts. Taehyung tears his eyes from you to look at his best friend. Jimin gives him a look, one he can’t help but laugh at. Taehyung pushes himself up from his leaning position against the wall, standing to his full height. Jimin grabs his arm. “I’m serious, whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
“Relax,” Taehyung smirks. “I’m just gonna introduce myself, that’s it.”
Namjoon shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink, “sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Exactly,” Jimin pointedly agrees with him. “Don’t ruin it.”
Taehyung shrugs off Jimin’s hand, shooting his friends a glare, “I’m not gonna ruin anything.”
Before his friends can try and talk him out of it again, he wanders off towards you and your date – a dark-haired guy who seems friendly, boring even, and nothing like the type of guy Taehyung had imagined you’d go for.
You don’t notice Taehyung’s presence until he’s standing right next to you, offering a hand to your date. Your eyes widen in surprise, eyes shifting between your ex-boyfriend, his offered hand and your date for the night. You can’t help the small sliver of panic within your chest as you watch them interact.
“Hey man, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he greets him, “I’m Taehyung.”
“Jinyoung,” your date replies, giving Taehyung’s hand a weak shake without much thought. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
Taehyung smirks, eyeing Jinyoung up and down for a moment, wondering where on earth you managed to run into this guy and why you thought of bringing him to your friends’ engagement party. The majority of the people here know you and once this guy isn’t part of your life anymore, you’ll spend your energy explaining why at the next event.
“Taehyung is, um…” You begin, turning to Jinyoung to provide some information as to why he would suddenly come over and introduce himself like this. “He’s my, uh–”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung finishes for you. He watches in satisfaction as Jinyoung’s eyes widen in surprise, the faint hints of intimidation evident in them. “We broke up two years ago.”
“Oh, well, I had no idea there was an… ex-boyfriend,” Jinyoung trails off, glancing at you in confusion.
Your attention, however, is aimed at Taehyung, “Tae, can we talk–”
“Did you know ____ fled the country after breaking up with me?” Taehyung lets out a sarcastic laugh, watching how Jinyoung almost squirms in discomfort. Bet he didn’t sign up for a meeting with the ex-boyfriend when he said yes to join you tonight. “Is that where she met you or?”
Your jaw tightens as you place a hand on Taehyung’s arm, catching his attention. He glances at your hand and then you, eyes meeting yours. He notices the desperation in them, the grip you have on his arm.
“Can I talk to you under four eyes? Now, please.”
He smiles at you, a tipsy smile but endearing nonetheless.
“Absolutely,” he tells you before glancing back at Jinyoung. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment.”
Jinyoung looks confused and awkward as Taehyung flashes him a fake smile before allowing himself to be dragged away by you. It isn’t until you’re in a secluded corner of your friends’ penthouse, you let go of his arm. Taehyung leans against the wall, a small smirk on his face as you stare at him for a moment before your face morphs into disbelief.
“What the hell was that all about?”
He shrugs, “I was just introducing myself.”
You let out a chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest, “oh, is that what it was? How silly of me to think you were trying to measure your dick with his!”
He huffs out a scoff, rolling his eyes, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t have to and you know it.”
Your mouth falls open at his cocky behavior. Whoever this man in front of you is, you don’t know him. He is not the man you broke up with two years ago, he’s not even a shadow of the man you were hopelessly in love with once. 
Taehyung watches your expression fall as if realization hits you square in the face. His ego covers it up perfectly but it hurts seeing the realization on your face, his heart sinking to his stomach as he realizes himself what you just realized –neither of you are the same people you were two years ago. And for some reason that realization hurts more than he thought it would because change is supposed to be good, right?
“Maybe breaking up with you wasn’t a mistake after all,” you tell him, eyes filled with disappointment and hurt. Taehyung frowns as the words leave your lips. “You’re an asshole.”
“____, I–”
You shake your head before turning on your heel, heading back to Jinyoung who’s been watching the two of you with worried eyes. Taehyung catches Jinyoung’s gaze over your shoulder, the judgemental look he shoots at him bruising his ego. However, the sight of your hand slipping into Jinyoung’s bruises his heart as he watches you and your date bid the engaged couple goodbye before leaving the penthouse.
Hand in hand.
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Loud knocking wakes Taehyung up the following morning. He squints an eye open, the bright light coming from the morning sun hitting him straight in the face. He lets out a low groan, dropping his head back into the softness of his pillows. He forgot to pull the curtains when he came home last night. It happens too often after a night out – a bad habit, really.
The knocking disappears for a moment before it returns, more persistent this time around. With a sigh, Taehyung gets himself out of bed, slipping on a t-shirt and sweatpants before sauntering towards his front door.
Who in the world could be rapping their knuckles on his door this early on a sunday morning? 
He glances towards the kitchen, eyes squinting to read the red numbers on the oven. His eyebrows lift in surprise. It’s not morning anymore, it’s past noon and someone is very persistent on the other side of the door. Once he reaches the door, he sneaks a peek through the peephole, breath hitching in his throat when he realizes who’s on the other side. His forehead connects with the surface of the door as a low ‘fuck’ leaves his lips.
Inhaling sharply, he grabs the door handle and pulls the door open.
“What are you doing here?” He asks.
Taehyung sees no point in greeting you first, the question flying from his mouth before he can process it properly. He’s surprised to see you on his doorstep after what happened at the engagement party last night. When he came home and plopped into his bed, he had been thinking about whether or not he should seek you out to talk things through. He never got the chance to think further about it before sleep overtook and pulled him under.
“We need to talk,” you tell him, pushing past him, shoulder bumping his.
Taehyung closes the door after you before following you further into his home. You stand by his bookshelf, several feet away from him. He watches you as you look around, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants to keep them from feeling restless. 
“How do you know where I live?” He decides to ask after a moment of intense silence.
You turn to face him from your new spot by the big window, the view from it being of a park with endless rows of trees and bushes, the colors of them ranging from green to brown to orange to yellow. 
“Jimin told me,” you tell him, “but that’s not important – what the hell was your problem last night?”
Taehyung shrugs, “nothing… I was just introducing myself.”
A sarcastic laugh escapes your pretty lips, a look of amusement on your face.
“Bullshit, Tae,” you protest. “We haven’t seen each other in two years and you pull a stunt like that? It’s not like you.”
He can’t help but scoff.
Not like him? 
It’s not like him to spend two years watching women come and go in his home. It’s not like him to let the woman he loves leave him and not do shit about it for two years. It’s not like him to not care about love at all. It’s not like him to lose all faith and belief in the great love of his life but he did and it’s your fault. You made him what he is today. You up and left, leaving him because ‘things weren’t the way they used to be’. He accepted what you wanted because you were so certain that was what you wanted at the time. He shouldn’t have but he did because he loved you and he’d rather love you from a distance than keep you in a place that didn’t make you happy.
Blaming you isn’t right but it’s always easier to blame someone else than yourself.
“I pulled a stunt?” The anger that’s starting to boil within him laces within his voice as he moves closer. Your eyes are locked with his as he slowly moves across the room, nearing you. “You’re the one who brought a fucking date, _____! You knew I would be there and yet you thought ‘hey, let me bring a date and introduce him to everyone there while my ex is in the same fucking room’!”
You let out a frustrated groan.
“It’s been two years, Taehyung! For all I know, you could’ve brought someone too!”
The frustration is seeping through his veins as he steps closer, only a few feet from you at this point. You’re close and he can touch you if he just reaches his hands out to you but you’ve never felt farther away. Had he known two years ago that it would come to this, he wouldn’t have let you walk out of the door that night. He would’ve fought for you, told you that you would figure things out together. That he would do his utmost best to make you happy – no matter the sacrifices he would have to make.
“Do you know how fucking miserable I’ve been for the past two years? Do you know how many times I’ve asked about you only to get no answers from anyone?”
The guilt is evident on your face as he takes the risk and steps even closer. He can feel the warmth radiating off your body now, the close proximity doing nothing to calm his thundering heart.
“Have you ever, just for a second, thought about how fucking hard it’s been after you left and fled the fucking country?”
You let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t–”
Taehyung can’t fight the dry laugh leaving him, “I begged you to stay, ____. I was begging you but you left anyway and for what?”
He watches as you shrug helplessly, mouth opening and closing while you try to decipher what to say, how to explain. He would appreciate an explanation – ‘things aren’t the way they used to be’ isn’t enough anymore.
“I… I had some stuff I needed to figure out,” you mutter.
“We could’ve figured it out together!” He argues, hands thrown out in pure frustration.
The shake of your head has Taehyung frowning deeply. You look away, unable to watch the way his face falls as the words leave your lips, “I couldn’t love you the way you deserved. I had to leave. It was what was best for us back then–”
“No,” he mutters, voice soft and filled with sorrow, “you don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”
You feel him step back, taking his warmth with him. He sits down on the couch, running a hand through his hair as an exasperated sigh leaves his chest. You cross your arms over your chest; the act doing nothing to comfort yourself but doing enough to keep yourself warm after he removed himself from right in front of you. 
Unsure, what to do, you sit down on the window pane, watching the man you used to be inseparable from. He looks tired and not because you forced him out of bed by knocking on his door. He looks like the past two years have been nothing but hell for him – and you believe it. Leaving him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done but it was necessary in order to find yourself.
“I didn’t tell you everything,” you quietly tell him, eyes dropping to look at the wooden floor instead of him.
You feel his eyes on you, heavy and filled with longing, hurt and love.
“I knew you’d never let me go if I told you everything,” you continue when he stays silent. “I lost myself, Tae… And I knew as long as I wasn’t at peace with myself, I wouldn’t be able to love you the way you deserved.”
You take a chance and look up, your eyes meeting his in an instant. You feel your heart skip a beat, a pain so strong it’s almost unbearable shooting through your body. Taehyung’s eyes are glossy as he watches you make your way to where he sits on the couch. You kneel in front of him, your hands finding his in a weak attempt to comfort him but you know nothing could possibly remove the two years of pain and anger he’s been through.
He stays quiet, eyes skimming your face as you sit in front of him.
“Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” you softly tell him and feel a tightness in your throat. You bite back the tears but your voice betrays you as you speak up again. “And while… While trying to figure my shit out, I realized that you and I–”
Taehyung’s hands engulf yours, fingers slipping through yours to intertwine them. Pain is etched onto his face as you sniffle, one of his hands reaching up to wipe away the one teardrop that managed to escape just now.
“I realized that you and I were the only thing in my life that actually made sense but it was too late.”
“Baby…” Taehyung begins, the nickname leaving him before he can think about it and the appropriateness of it.
You shake your head, “I left you, Tae. I left and, like you said, I fled the country like a coward when all I had to do was talk to the people around me and find another way.”
The tears won’t stop coming at this point and it’s then Taehyung realizes that it was never about him. It has always been about you and how you felt; not your feelings for him but for yourself. If only you had talked to him, reached out to him and asked for help – he would’ve stepped in and done whatever it would take to make you happy again.
“I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” you cry, the sheer realization of just how much unnecessary pain you’ve caused him seems like the worst thing you ever could’ve done. You hurt the man you love and now it’s hurting you – well-deserved one might say. “God, you must hate me so much.”
“No, hey,” Taehyung calls softly, cupping your face and wiping your tears away. You look up at him, tear-filled eyes meeting his glossy ones. He smiles at you through the build-up tears in his dark brown eyes. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
“But–”
He shakes his head, “sure, I’m pissed at you for leaving. But I could never hate you, _____.”
The way he says it with such tenderness and softness makes your bottom lip quiver, fresh tears coming to the surface but it’s not an issue – Taehyung wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs, smiling softly at you. Why he’s comforting you rather than kicking you out of his home is a mystery to you, one you probably won’t ever solve. But you’ll take it, the feeling of his hands touching you again similar to the feeling of finally drinking water again after spending days in the desert. Or when you finally get to sleep after a really, really long and stressful day.
Comforting. Healing. Loving. 
“I’m sorry,” you softly say, voice so quiet and soft as if the atmosphere would break into a million pieces if you spoke any louder. Your heart is beating hard, thundering at 110 miles per hour. Taehyung is leaning closer, a magnetic pull between him and you causing him to do so. It’s impossible to stay away, especially after you sat down in front of him.
Taehyung huffs out a soft chuckle, the air brushing your lips. He whispers, “stop apologizing.”
“Sorry,” you whisper, causing Taehyung to let another chuckle escape before softly, carefully pressing his lips to yours. 
The world stops spinning and your heart stops beating for a second, the feeling of Taehyung’s lips on yours so familiar you might start crying again. It’s like returning home after years of chaotic traveling, the familiarity of it so comforting and perfect. You sigh deeply, melting against him, hands gripping his forearms as if to support yourself. Then a soft moan escapes you and Taehyung tilts his head to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping inside and touching yours, warm and wet and so addicting.
In need of more, you get up and push him back on the couch. He welcomes you onto his lap, pulling you closer, hands gripping your waist tightly, fingertips digging into your sides. The kisses you share are soft, passionate, and filled with words and affection you’ve kept inside for two years. Things you never got to say and affection you never got to show – all of it being poured into the kisses, deep and scorching hot.
Your arms lock around his neck, pulling him so close your noses are squishes together. He moans against your lips when your hips sink down on him, grinding against him. He feels himself grow harder, blood rushing to his cock in seconds as you continue your movements. 
“Tae…” You whimper softly when his hands slide underneath your top, warm palms sliding over the expanse of your back, nails digging into your skin. “Need you– please…”
In reality, you’re not his to touch and kiss. You haven’t been for two years. When this weekend is over, you’ll both go back to your everyday lives, return to reality – realities where neither of you are in each other’s. 
“What about Jinyoung?” Taehyung can’t help but ask, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes.
“He went back home this morning,” you tell him, your words causing a sliver of hope to appear in Taehyung’s chest. You smile softly, fingers playing with the curly strands of black hair at the back of his neck. You shrug with a sigh, “he asked about us, I told him the truth. He left.”
“What truth?”
The question is careful but Taehyung needs to know.
“That I’m still in love with you,” you quietly admit.
If you can’t feel the harsh beating of Taehyung’s heart, you surely must be able to hear it. It’s pounding against his rib cage, making it hard for him to breathe as he stares at you. A million thoughts are running through his mind but the only thing he can focus on is the overwhelming urge to kiss you like the world is ending, worship you and make up for lost time.
“I don’t blame you if you can’t forgive me for what I did,” you softly say. “But I hope you’ll give me a chance to-“
Taehyung cuts you off by crashing his mouth to yours; desperate, needy, eager and rushed. A whimpering moan escapes you and travels into his mouth, goosebumps rising upon his skin at the pretty sound.
“I forgive you,” he says between kisses as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders. You help him get rid of it, lips never leaving his as you continue to kiss. You have two years to catch up on – two years equals a lot of kisses and a lot of making love. You inhale deeply when he pulls away, hand gripping your jaw to make you look at him. His eyes stare into yours, dark and filled with so many emotions you can barely keep track. “Don’t make me regret it.”
You shake your head, “I won’t. I promise.”
“Good,” he whispers before pulling you back in for more, unable to stop for long.
The next clothing items to go are your top and his t-shirt as you tug it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor along with your jacket. Taehyung lets out a breathless moan against your mouth when you slide your hands up his abdomen, fingertips brushing over his chest and nipples. He groans as your nails dig into his skin, hands tightly gripping onto your thighs in a wordless response.
“Lay down,” he tells you, voice raspy from making out.
With one last soft kiss to his lips, you do as told. You lay down on the couch, watching him as he gets up on his feet, getting rid of his sweatpants. His eyes roam your body, grazing your skin and curves, taking it all in while feeling a wave of memories washing over him. It brings a feeling he can’t quite pinpoint to his chest, heart tightening as you offer him a soft smile.
Home.
That’s what he feels.
He finally feels at home again after two years of feeling like he didn’t belong in this new apartment of his; an apartment he found a few months after you left. He couldn’t stand being in the one you used to share because it didn’t feel like a home anymore. It’s when you sit up on the couch, your hand reaching for his to bring him back to you, that he realizes that no place will ever feel like home unless you’re there.
You’re his home – he belongs with you.
And you belong with him.
“Come back to me,” you whisper softly when he crawls onto the couch, hovering over you. His eyes shift between yours, three words he hasn’t said out loud to anyone but you at the tip of his tongue. “Tae…–”
“I love you.”
Your words get trapped in your throat, heart beating wildly in your chest as the three magical words bring a new kind of warmth to your entire body.
“I love you too.”
The rest is a blur – the way he kisses you deeply and passionately like it’s the last time, the sound of your pretty moans reaching his ears like a melody he’ll never get tired of, the feeling of his hands on your body, caressing you, taking you in and remembering everything about you; every dip and curve of your body. Every uneven texture of your skin, every dimple and small spot that makes you you.
“You’re mine,” he rasps against your chest as he trails it with kisses, your bra no longer covering you, giving him free access to all of you. His lips brush your nipple, another delicate moan escaping your lips at the feeling. “You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?”
“Yes– Oh my god,” You gasp, surprise shooting through you as he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking. Your back arches into him as one of his hands cups the other breast, squeezing and caressing it in the most caring way possible.
That’s the thing about Taehyung – he can be rough both verbally and physically but he knows how you like it and he never strays far away from it. He’ll caress your body and worship it like you’re a goddess while arousing you with his words, dirty words falling from his lips without a struggle. It’s the perfect mix of everything; the best of both worlds basically.
You whimper softly when he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before letting go, leaving it wet and swollen as he moves further down your naked body. Your legs spread automatically when he reaches your core, his mouth hovering above your heat as he glances up at you. A small smirk spreads across his face as he watches you run your hands over your stomach and all the way up to cup your own breasts. You bite your lip, eyes closed as you await his touch.
“Tell me, baby,” he hums, leaving a soft kiss on your hip bone. “Did you miss this?”
You hum in response, fingers pinching your nipples as you feel his breath on your core.
“Words,” he reminds you, “I need your words.”
Your eyes peep open to glance down at him, the sight of him between your legs, messy and curly hair and swollen, plump lips twisted into a teasing smirk enough to cause you to let out a soft moan.
“Yes,” you tell him, breathlessly. “I missed you, missed your touch– please, Tae…”
The sound of you begging for him to touch you causes a feeling of pride to fill his entire body, the smirk on his face turning into a grin. He hums in satisfaction, leaning down to press a soft, careful kiss to your folds. You whimper softly, the hints of whine following.
“I’ll be honest,” the air from his words brushes your soaked core, a shiver running through your body. His hands tighten around your thighs as he brings them over his shoulders to pull you closer to his face. “I missed having you like this, too.”
Before you can even think of a response to his confession, his mouth is on you. You gasp in surprise, hands reaching for him to grab his hair, the couch, his hand – anything. Taehyung offers one of his hands, locking it with yours. Your fingers slip between his, your grip tight as he eats you out, his tongue licking your folds. You’re whimpering above him, the feeling of his tongue flicking your clit over and over again before he sucks it causing your moans to become higher and more whiny as he works you closer to the edge.
“Fuck,” you cry, thighs trembling as you feel your orgasm coming. Taehyung keeps your legs spread open with his free hand, his grip on you so strong you’re unable to escape the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm. “Tae, I’m close– fuckfuckfuck–”
An immense wave of pleasure washes over you, a guttural moan leaving your pretty lips as you tumble over the edge, abdomen tightening as you come. Taehyung moans against you as he continues to help you through it, licking up your juices, the slurping noises lewd and explicit enough to bring a heat to your face.
You’re trying to catch your breath, a smile on your face as Taehyung crawls back up. You sigh deeply as he leans down and presses a row of kisses onto your jaw and cheek, one of his hands sliding up your thigh.
“You feeling okay?” He asks, face inches from yours as his eyes meet yours.
You nod, smiling, “I feel great.”
He smiles softly as he leans down, connecting his mouth with yours. You’re able to taste yourself on his tongue as it brushes yours, the taste arousing and dirty but so hot, you might lose your mind.
“Wanna be inside you,” he groans as he grinds against you, the only thing keeping him from slipping inside being his boxers. His cock twitches in its confinements, eager to be let free, eager to be buried deeply within your warmth. “Wanna make love to you, baby– show you how much I’ve missed you…”
“Do it, Tae,” you urge him on, hands reaching for the waistband of his boxers, “show me.”
With his help, you manage to free his hard cock, his boxers ending up on the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. Your hand wraps around his length, a soft groan escaping his lips as he drops his head to your shoulder. You pump him a few times before guiding the tip to your entrance, softly gasping when you feel it nested between your folds.
Taehyung takes over, replacing your hand with his own. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer, lips catching his in a kiss. He takes this as his chance to slip inside, pushing against your entrance until he’s past your folds. You both moan against each other’s mouth as he sinks inside, the length and girth of him stretching you out. He moves slowly, sliding further inside inch after inch, carefully.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans once he bottoms out, every inch of him engulfed by your warm walls. His breathing is ragged as he stays still for a moment. “I’ll never get used to this.”
You smile at his comment, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
“Well, you better,” you tell him. “Because this time it’s forever.”
His heart skips a beat in his chest before he huffs out a strained laugh, the feeling of your walls tightening around him making it difficult for him to get words out.
“Is that a challenge or a promise?”
You shrug and smirks playfully, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a challenging promise.”
He scoffs in amusement but doesn’t say anything in return. Instead he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back inside of you, hard and precise. The action leaves you gasping, back arching as he hits a sweet spot within you. He continues the action, pulling out and thrusting back in over and over again, fucking you hard but slow, his shaft brushing against your clit for every thrust.
“Fuck– feels good,” you whimper as he hooks a hand underneath your leg to change the angle of his thrusts. Your mouth falls open as he slides in even deeper, his tip hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.
“Yeah?” He watches you nod, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you suppress a moan. “Did he ever have you like this, huh? Did he ever make you feel like this?”
Taehyung knows expecting you to not have been with anyone since you broke up is a long stretch. The only thing that bothers him is if you’ve been with the one man he met and talked to last night. The thought of you and him together brings a bitter taste to his mouth and he just needs you to deny it.
The sudden possessive tone of his words has your heart beating faster. He doesn’t have to mention any name for you to know who he’s referring to. Like you said when you first talked to Taehyung at the party, you and Jinyoung’s relationship was nothing serious, very new and not intimate at all. You had barely kissed him properly – something held you back every time it would take a turn into something more.
The look in Taehyung’s eyes tells you he needs to know. He needs to know if you ever gave that part of yourself to Jinyoung.
“No,” you tell him, keeping eye contact as you answer him, hoping it’ll give him the peace of mind that he needs. Taehyung’s face softens as he lets his forehead drop to yours, his breath clashing against your face. You cup his face, thumbs brushing over his jawline where faint stubble is starting to appear. “He didn’t.”
The relief that runs through Taehyung’s body is evident in his kiss as he connects his mouth with yours, his free hand reaching up to grab one of yours. He intertwines your hands, bringing it above your head as he returns to the task at hand – getting you both to the edge. 
The constant touch of his tip to a certain spot within you has you reaching another orgasm faster than you’re prepared for. It washes over you in huge waves, running through your body with such force your walls tighten around him. Taehyung moans deeply, his thrusts becoming uneven as he, too, reaches his high. Soft words of encouragement reach his ear as he drops his head to your shoulder. Your fingers slide into his thick, black hair while your other hand tightens its grip around his.
He lowly groans as he stills within you, spurts of hot and white cum painting your walls as he comes, “shit–”
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Hours later you’re watching Taehyung’s fingers play with yours as he holds your hand up in the air, both of you watching it as a comfortable silence surrounds you. It’s nice – to be cuddled up with him again after so long. You didn’t realize just how much you had missed him until you saw him last night. But despite the blissful atmosphere, there’s still an underlying tension of something that you need to talk about. Whether it’s your guilt for leaving or his regret for not fighting more is unknown.
“I wish I could go back in time,” you suddenly break the silence.
“Why do you say that?”
Taehyung brings your hand down, intertwining them instead as he leaves them to lay on top of the blanket covering your naked bodies. You continue to stare at your intertwined hands, wondering how it’s possible to match so perfectly with someone only for you to leave for two years despite them being where you belong.
“I wish I could go back and do it differently.”
Taehyung stays quiet for a moment before speaking up, “you can’t change the past, baby.”
His voice is delicate and soft, comforting.
“I know,” you sigh. “I just hate that I caused you so much pain. It was unnecessary and uncalled for. I should’ve just talked to you about it instead.”
“I think a lot of things could’ve been avoided if we had just talked about it but like I said… You can’t change the past,” he carefully grabs your chin to make you look at him. “Besides, we found our way back, right? We got a second chance at this, at us. Let’s make the best of it, yeah?”
A smile spreads across your face as you lean up and kiss him, the kiss soft yet deep and filled with the things you still haven’t said; apologies, I love you’s, promises and everything in between.
Taehyung sighs deeply against your lips, cupping your face, “I missed kissing you.”
You can’t help but grin against his mouth, “keep doing it then.”
“Oh, I’m planning on it,” he tells you, a squeal escaping you as he rolls over, trapping you beneath him. He dips down and kisses you again, this time with more force and eagerness.
That great love in life that everyone keeps talking about is really not worth much if it’s not with the right person. Taehyung used to believe that there was only one true love for everyone. Two years ago, he lost all belief in that. There was no point in looking for that great, true love because he already had it and he lost it. And even if there is more than one true love for everyone, he wouldn’t want it if it’s not you.
It seems his beliefs have been restored.
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all rights reserved © mercurygguk, 2022. copying and/or reposting any of my work on any platform is NOT allowed. translations are NOT allowed.
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kitashousewife · 11 months
Text
sakusa doesn’t mind errands.
it makes him feel a little more accomplished, crossing things off of the to-do list. big or small, it gives him a chance to get out and enjoy himself, maybe even indulge on something new.
today is a day he would consider almost perfect. he’s grocery shopping through what feels like an empty store, listening to music while he weaves through the isles. this is his last stop of the morning, after the post office and the gym, and he’s ready to go home.
sakusa slows his cart to a stop when he reaches the last isle, eyes skimming the shelves for some fabric softener before he can head home.
a tap on his shoulder makes him just about shout in the store, the physical feeling of a record scratch makes his body jolt.
“e-excuse me?”
“yes?”
“h-hi,” you pull your hand away slowly, staring up at him with a rather nervous look on your face.
“hello.”
“sorry, i just,” you sigh, turning back to the shelves again. “what fabric softener do you recommend?”
at first, sakusa thinks you’re kidding. he tries to think if he’s ever been asked that in his life.
ever since his career took off, he’s had people stop him for numerous things. photos, autographs, cheap excuses at getting a few flirty comments in, you name it. this is a new one.
“u-uh, i guess it depends on what you’re looking for.”
you hum and nod, eyes still fixed on the bottles in front of you.
“something that smells good and leaves my clothes feeling soft i guess, but not something cheap and perfume-y, you know?”
sakusa absolutely does know, having gone through this same thing. he reaches forward, grabbing a familiar bottle and holding it out for you.
“this one’s good, not too expensive but still has a good smell.”
you turn to the stranger, only now realizing who you’re talking to. you’ve seen his photos, his instagram, and you’ve watched a handful of his games. your eyes widen for a second, but you give him a smile.
“thanks! ill try it out. i trust you,” you place the bottle in your basket and wrack your brain for something else to say.
“you’re welcome,” he mumbles, grabbing a bottle of his own. you’re about to walk away when he decides to speak up. “i hate having to find new products like this, so i’m happy to help.”
you smile wide, turning to face him again with a relieved expression. “right! it’s like as soon as you start to use something regularly, it completely stops working!”
he gives you a small smile and nods.
“i had the same thing with the bathroom cleaner i was using a couple weeks ago. i still haven’t found a replacement.”
sakusa is not one for small talk. he thinks it’s a waste of time, and something that typically makes him uncomfortable. but for some reason, here he is, blabbing about different cleaning products to some stranger.
a very pretty one at that.
“let me return the favor,” you spin around to the shelves behind the two of you, searching for something while a pop hit plays faintly in the background. you grab a spray bottle and hand it towards him. “this one’s great. one of the few things that hasn’t failed me in a while.”
sakusa smiles, and he can feel his cheeks turning pink. this feels so unfamiliar yet natural at the same time, and he’s having trouble keeping up.
“thank you,” he looks back at his cart for a second, suddenly feeling a little more shy than before. you sense this and give him a small wave.
“i hope you enjoy it! and thanks again for the help. i can now wash my clothes in peace.”
he nods and gives a small wave in response. you begin to walk away, and sakusa feels his heart beginning to race. he debates between following you and walking the other direction for a moment or two.
“w-wait,” he reaches towards you, but you’re just a bit too far. thankfully you stop, and sakusa feels relieved. “could i get your number?”
stunned with his new-found outgoing behaviors, he almost doesn’t hear you when you agree, only registering what’s going on when you hand him your phone. he takes it carefully, inputting his number quickly and handing it back to you with rosy cheeks.
he goes home that day with a giddy feeling in his tummy, hoping you text him back. when his phone buzzes later that evening with a photo of your folded laundry and a thank you, he feels a bit more confident and thankful for stepping out of his comfort zone.
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takenbypeter · 11 months
Text
For Blurp of course
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Adam Warlock x reader
Words: 1451
Synopsis: Reader takes care of Blurp but the F’saki doesn’t want to part from reader
JOIN MY 1k Shipping Event
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You grinned as you pet the furry four legged creature. He was quite amusing.
A week ago you had been minding your business in the main common area of Knowhere when you heard the warlock ask loudly, “is there anyone who would like to take care of my pet while I’m away?” Adam typically brought Blurp with him, but because this mission would take a bit longer than usual, he figured he’d give him F’saki a break.
Most people were still occupied with the animals saved from the high evolutionary, but you weren’t, plus you’ve met the small animal a few times, he was quite adorable. So you walked up to Adam offering your assistance.
At first Adam’s eyes scanned you up and down, as if trying to gauge if you were worthy enough but then he agreed. He’d hand you the small animal while giving you some instructions, “and don’t let him eat after eight he gets rowdy.” He said as the other guardians called him, and on that note he was gone.
You held up the creature to your face, “looks like it’s just you and me,” you said while the F’saki made a strange noise.
That was about a week ago now and even though it’s been a short time you‘ve grown accustomed to Blurp.
“Come on Blurp drink your water,” you’d say as he was clearly trying to cool off by laying stomach down on the cold floor of your room. He trudged over to the bowl you got for him and began drinking, “you’re so cute,” you’d chime.
It was at that moment that you heard a commotion outside and curious, you’d peek out the nearby window. Gazing out you’d notice Adam walking towards your building.
“Oh he’s back,” is what you said as you brushed your clothes and head to the door. Adam’s hand reached up and just as he was about to knock on the door you suddenly opened it causing his hand to freeze midair as he practically almost knocked on your head.
“Hello,” you said, not at all fazed.
Adam awkwardly looked at his hand for a moment before clearing his throat and bringing it back to his side.
“Hello, how are you?” The question seemed so strange coming from him, especially due to the fact that he’s not once asked you that before. Well to be fair there have not been many opportunities, anytime you talked it was about supplies, or necessities, work things basically.
“Good, good. I take it the mission was successful?”
He smiled proudly, “yes of course, nothing less for the Guardians of the Galaxy.”
My was he proud to say that.
“Oh! Come in,” you said, realizing he’s just been standing at your doorway and it was rude of you not to invite him in. That’s when Blurp saw him.
After catching sight of his owner he immediately ran up to him practically leaping into Adam’s arms as he cuddled and shoved his fur into the man’s face.
“Hello Blurp, I’m delighted to see you too,” Adam would let out while rubbing the F’saki. Your heart melted at the sight, never seeing the warlock like this before.
After the moment passed Adam peered down at the animal and without missing a beat he said, “let’s go home.”
At the mention of home Blurp jumped out from his arms, suddenly running across the room to the other side of the wall. Adam turned to you with concern on his face before once again turning to Blurp saying, “Blurp come on.”
Blurp wouldn’t move.
“Now you’re just embarrassing yourself. We’re going home,” Adam began to take steps towards Blurp but the animal quickly ran again, leaping up into your arms.
“Okay, now you’re just embarrassing me,” Adam would mutter, his voice sounding a little bit hurt by the creature's actions.
“I think he just grew used to me.”
“Hmm,” Adam let out a breath nodding in agreement while you came up with an idea. “How about I walk him with you? I’m sure once he sees your quarters he’ll be fine.”
The golden boy’s lips downturned in thought as he wondered for a moment, “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
“Great, let’s go,” you announced, rubbing Blurp’s cheeks for a moment before setting him down. Adam opened your front door, holding it steady for you to go through, you thanked him before looking behind you at Blurp who still didn’t seem to want to move, “come on Blurp!” With that, the animal happily followed you out the door while Adam himself followed close by.
The walk was a little awkward but Blurp being there definitely helped alleviate some tension. Your focus remained on the cute fluff ball as he ran alongside you.
Adam, who for the first few minutes walked behind while watching the two of you interact, now traveled alongside you, as Blurp remained in the middle.
He was the first to speak, “it’s strange to me how close you two have gotten.”
You could admit the brown fellow had grown close to you quite quickly, “well we have spent the last week together, I think it’s natural.”
“But I take care of him well.”
“You do, I’m not saying you don’t.” You try your best to figure out the most correct way of explaining yourself without offending the guardian, “you said before that you’ve gotten Blurp from a Ravager.”
Adam nodded.
“And now he’s a part of the guardians. I just think he’s seen a lot and sometimes needs a slower pace. Maybe him being here made him feel secure, you know?”
“Secure?”
“Yeah, you know feeling safe and happy, without any worry about life.”
“Hmm,” is all Adam said in response.
You two continued on in silence as you walked all the way to his small living quarters.
“So you’re saying he should not only go on missions but spend time here instead.”
“Not always. Just if the mission is a big chaotic one then maybe that would be better.”
Adam didn’t want to leave Blurp behind, but he understood what you meant. Maybe you were right.
“…If I know missions are going to be intense, then I agree he should stay here.”
You nodded at Adam agreeing with his words that were essentially your idea in the first place.
“I believe that is a good motion,” you assured and a corner of his mouth pulled as a smile began to form.
“And I believe you should be the one to look after him. I feel like that would be best from here on forward.” Adam looked down at the pet who didn’t seem to have a care in the world at the moment.
“Of course! I would love to! I love Blurp.”
You finished the sentence just as you came upon Adam’s quarters. Blurp continued to stay in between you two, hesitant to move forward, “come on Blurp, go home,” you’d usher pointing in the direction of the door. Slowly the critter would approach the door and Adam would open it allowing him to enter while the two of you remained in the doorway.
At the success of this journey you turned to the warlock, “well, I guess this is it for now, until the next mission Adam Warlock,” you said, waiting for his own goodbyes. But instead what you were met with was, “would you like to come in?”
Your head angled to the side, giving him a slight side eye at the sudden proposal but he continued, “I mean I’m sure having you here would make Blurp feel more…secure,” he said smugly nodding a little at how he remembered the exact word you had used earlier. For a moment he was sure you were going to reject the idea, your facial expression clearly already regarded the suggestion as strange.
“…I guess it couldn’t hurt,” and in you stepped. Adam closed the door and followed behind as you looked around his room taking his small space in. It wasn’t big, especially considering the fact that he attended missions frequently, but he still found himself watching your facial expression as you gazed around the room. He found himself feeling a new type of nervousness, he couldn’t name it exactly. Maybe it was judgment that he suddenly feared? Or maybe it was something else, he wasn’t sure.
Adam liked you already. More than what he knew. He liked the way you described, the word ‘secure,’ and the way you clearly cared for Blurp.
Adam watched as you made your way to Blurp petting him playfully while the F’saki ran around enjoying himself.
Adam supposed that if Blurp could find security with you then maybe he could too.
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carlsdarling · 9 months
Note
Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader where she’s Negan’s daughter………featuring hate sex
No Mercy
Y/N is Negan's daughter and is being held hostage in Alexandria. Y/N and Carl hate each other passionately. How will this end? Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.
WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, slightly violent sex (consensual), abusive language
Annoyed, you looked up and dropped your book when you saw someone coming towards you. Of all people: Carl, the jackass himself.
After Rick and Daryl had found you injured out in the woods a few weeks ago, very close to the Sanctuary, and had taken you to Alexandria, you were confronted with Carl every fucking day. Like it was some special punishment they'd come up with for you because you were Negan's daughter. When Rick had found out your identity - that hadn't been particularly difficult, because your father had soon shown up at the gates of Alexandria, angrily demanding your handover - he had decided to keep you as a captive. While you were allowed to move freely within Alexandria, you had no access to weapons and were not allowed to leave the city. Neither alone, nor in company.
But the absolute worst thing was that you had to live in Rick's house, under the same roof as Carl, who made no secret of how much he despised you. He let you know and feel that every day. "It's okay Carl, I hate you too," you spat back at him for that reason as he approached now.
"Not as much as I hate you," Carl countered, sounding almost bored, which upset you even more. You'd retreated behind the horse stables with your book, where you'd been sitting peacefully in the grass reading until this menace called Carl had decided to bother you. Now he was standing right in front of you, his shadow falling on you, and as always, he was wearing that stupid hat.
"I can live with it if someone who dresses up as a cowboy, has just one eye and needs a haircut hates me," you retorted pointedly. "By the way, you're not half as badass as you think you are, Carl." Demonstratively, you turned your eyes back to your book, ignoring him. Of course, a Carl Grimes couldn't take that. He snatched the book from you and tossed it away. "Hey!" you shouted at him outrageously. "Fuck off and leave me alone!" You had stood up, and now you were facing each other, glaring angrily at one another.
"You have no rights to anything here," Carl claimed aggressively.
"Oh no?" you scoffed, "Your dad thinks otherwise."
"Yeah, because my dad's not a fucking psycho like yours," Carl retorted in a snarky manner.
"My dad should have killed you when he had the chance," you hissed. "You sure felt great when you broke into the Sanctuary and shot around. Oh, wow, Badass Carl is kicking some butts," you teased him maliciously. He stared angrily at you with narrowed eye. "But I guess that was a non starter, wasn't it? My dad dragged your little ass back to Alexandria and fed you spaghetti. As if you were a three-year-old“, you mocked him.
"At least I didn't get captured," he growled.
"Oh, yeah? As I recall, my dad gave you back voluntarily. Why would we want to keep an idiot like you? You're worthless. A real plague, an inconvenience,  that's what you are, Carl."
You orbited each other slowly, like two wolves, between you were only a few inches of distance. You fixated on each other with hatred. Carl was literally vibrating with rage, you could almost smell his anger. Confused, you realized that a certain excitement had taken control of you. Carl's aggressive aura triggered something in you. Carl seemed to feel the same way, because he brought his face close to yours, and without any warning, he kissed you roughly and forced his tongue into your mouth. You freed yourself. "What are you doing?" you hissed, scratching him across the cheek.
He didn't blink an eye, just licked his lips and approached you again. "You will not scratch me again, Y/N," he said in a hoarse voice. "Unless it's with pleasure while I'm fucking you."
"Excuse me?" you shrieked, "What kind of planet do you live on?" Again you looked at each other. You were both quivering all over, the air between you felt like it was electrified. The sexual tension was palpable.
Carl grabbed your wrist. "You want it too," he whispered provocatively. "I bet your pussy's dripping already," he said contemptuously, pressing himself against you. You could feel his arousal, and yes, damn it, he was right - you lusted after him even though you hated him. So you returned his stormy, aggressive kisses, and you enjoyed his rough hands on your bare skin as he rudely removed your shirt and bra.
"I hate you," you hissed excitedly as he caressed your nipples. The moisture between your legs increased. You peered toward the corner of the building. "Someone could show up here at any moment," you said, "We should go somewhere else."
"I don't care," Carl said dismissively. "We'll do it right here in the grass." Without further ado, he pushed you down to the ground, lay on top of you, and rubbed against you.
"Ouch," you complained, "you're hurting me, Carl." The buckle of his belt was aching on your hip.
"Shut up," Carl commanded carelessly, but at the same time loosened his belt and pulled down his jeans and boxers, shamelessly exposing his cock. It was of fair size and already totally erect.
The sight made you suck in an excited breath, but all you said was, "Wow. He's not bigger than that?"
Carl snorted angrily, pressing you to the grass, shoving your skirt up and your panties down before pushing himself between your legs. "Like you don't want him," he argued. "You're so horny for me, look how soaking wet you are. Little whore." He played with your entrance and clit with his tip, but didn't penetrate you, instead watching your face with a gleeful grin as you began to whimper softly. A new flood of moisture was welcoming him.
"I can also pleasure myself if you don't know where to put your dick in, Carl," you said pejoratively. "I expected nothing else from you."
With a single, hard thrust, he penetrated you, making you gasp - half in pain, half in lust. For a moment he paused, and you stared at each other again, full of aversion. Your hearts were pounding heavily.
"What are you waiting for? Rail me," you then commanded. Carl closed his eyes and began with hard, ruthless thrusts; he wasn't being sensitive or tender, but you didn't want him to be, you wanted him hard and merciless, and you hated him fiercely, with every fiber of your body. You inflicted some deep scratches on his back, whereupon he angrily grabbed your wrists and held them above your head while he pounded in you even harder.
It was thrilling beyond description. "Harder," you gasped, "harder still. Faster." Carl moaned out loud, you were both glistening with sweat, and you felt a powerful orgasm starting to build. You arched your back, squirming under Carl's thrusts and whimpering with desire, when he suddenly stopped.
"You will not cum now," he said breathlessly. "I won't allow it."
"I hate you, Carl Grimes," you repeated, biting him in his left shoulder, whereupon he gave you a sharp slap in the face.
"Bite me again like the rabid dog you are, and you'll regret it," he threatened, his lips very close to your right ear before resuming his thrusts into you. "I'm going to cum now, so you may too," he announced a few seconds later.
"Pull out before you cum", you demanded, but he pinned you to the ground and just continued thrusting, unimpressed, faster and harder.
"Forget it," Carl whispered horny and licked your neck. He obviously hadn't shaved that morning, and it was irritating your skin. "I'm going to breed you. When your dad gets you back, you'll be pregnant by me. How are you going to explain that to him? It'll be fun," he panted before he started moaning loudly again, thrusting even harder into you and blowing his whole load deep inside you. You cum so hard you thought you were going to explode. The two of you lay together for a moment, breathless, before Carl stood up, pulled his pants back up, and tossed your clothes to you. "You'd best get dressed again," he said bitingly. "Not like anyone's going to show up and realize what a little whore you are after all."
"Screw you, Carl," you replied lazily.
He gave you a dirty smirk. "Okay. Tomorrow, same time, same place?"
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lurkingshan · 2 months
Text
Dead Friend Forever is a Marvel of Mystery Writing
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I haven’t been watching Dead Friend Forever live, because I am not always that into the slasher genre and I figured I would wait to hear whether it holds up before jumping in. I admit, I was a bit dubious about a drama sustaining a slasher narrative for 12 entire weeks and didn’t want to spend time on something that might be too shallow to sustain and would end up falling apart. I basically told bestie @wen-kexing-apologist to vet it for me and holler if I needed to start paying attention. And a few weeks ago, they started poking me with increasing intensity, along with a few other friends, because the writing was holding up better than they could believe. I started asking questions, and once @ginnymoonbeam mentioned that Sammon was the writer, it all started to click and I dove into a binge to catch up.
And they were right! This show is excellent, and its strength is sourced in an incredibly strong script from a writer who knows how to construct a longform mystery. Because it turns out, that’s what this show actually is. How do you sustain a slasher for 12 weeks? By embedding a deeper mystery within the slasher framework and pacing your story so that the entire middle delivers a backstory narrative that is even more compelling than the current events. This show is expertly structured to grab your attention and then get you deeply emotionally invested in the coming bloodbath, which is crucial for a slasher to feel like it has any stakes. Let me also note that the excellent writing here is supported by extremely smart direction and editing and some standout performances from young actors. I am going to focus on the writing here because that’s what I do, but it should be said that this whole production is all around excellent. 
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So let’s talk about why the writing in Dead Friend Forever works so well! Great drama mysteries should support two kinds of engagement from the viewer: 
no thoughts head empty engagement from the people who just want to be pulled along for the ride and be constantly surprised
red string board theory engagement for the people who enjoy finding clues and trying to solve the mystery in advance. 
It’s actually really fucking hard to thread this needle as a writer, because it requires seeding strong enough clues that attentive viewers could reasonably guess some of the big reveals, but not giving away so much that you are unable to surprise them. A reveal in a good mystery should have you saying “oh my god WHAT” and “of course, that makes perfect sense” at the same time. And the best mysteries support the viewer being able to go back and rewatch, find new meaning they missed the first time, and realize every single thing that happened adds up. A tight mystery has no loose ends and no false steps; it never lies to the viewer, it only works to draw your attention where it wants it at any given point in the story.
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Dead Friend Forever does this masterfully with several of its reveals, but I will highlight the biggest example: the reveal of Phee and Non’s relationship in episode 7. In the first four episodes of the show, the story lets us in on a few crucial facts: Phee is newer to this friend group (along with Tan and White), he was not present for whatever went down with Non three years ago, he has some kind of fucked up not!friends with benefits relationship with Jin that involves lots of sexual tension and dick biting, and he seems interested in figuring out what the hell happened once all these dudes start acting crazy about the videos. The string board theorists had enough to go on there to reasonably guess that he was intentionally trying to uncover the truth—but not why—and the no thoughts head empty crowd could just vibe, enjoying his scenes with Jin and wondering how exactly he ended up hooking up with him and getting involved with this group of people he doesn’t even seem to like.
Once we get to the backstory and see Non’s narrative, additional clues emerge, like the existence of both an older brother and a mysterious sweetheart that is only saved as [heart emoji] in Non’s phone. No thoughts head empty is over here going huh I wonder who they’re gonna be and hey when are the rest of the characters going to show up; string board theorists now have two clear options for how Phee could tie in to Non’s story and why he might care enough to investigate, but no one knows for sure. So when the show ended episode 6 with Phee running into Non’s room and began episode 7 with The Most Effective Five Minute BL Of All Time, everything clicked into place. No thoughts head empty got to experience a very pleasant shock moment, the string board theorists got to feel satisfied that they figured out at least part of the reveal, everyone got to enjoy an unexpected shot of romance in the middle of this stressful narrative, and there were still parts of Phee’s motives and involvement with this group that we didn’t understand and would require additional reveals. That is great mystery writing in a nutshell.
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And it’s not only the mystery construction that makes the writing here so smart. It’s also the way Sammon is weaving in tons of social commentary, embedding Thai cultural and religious values, incorporating complicated crimes with lots of players in the mix that somehow don’t get confusing, and drawing complex and nuanced characters whose choices and behavior you understand even if you find them abhorrent. It’s not easy to make a viewer both despise a character and still care what happens to them; when you write a story about despicable people you run the risk of inspiring apathy in the audience, which is a death knell for a mystery. We have to be invested for this story to work. We have to feel deep empathy for Non to the point that we fully support axe murdering his bullies, but we also have to be interested enough in the bullies and why they behave the way they do to watch 12 weeks of them running around being awful to each other and harming everyone in their paths. And Non, too, gets to have real complexity. He is not a perfect little Mary Sue who never does anything wrong. He makes big impulsive mistakes, and seeks attention and affection from the wrong people, and lies to the ones he loves, and doesn’t always ask for help when he needs it. He is a flawed human being and that’s so important, because he is the center of this story and we need him to feel real.
In conclusion: holy shit. I tip my hat to you, Dr. Sammon, and I am very excited to be on this ride for the final four episodes. 
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