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kiss-me-muchoo · 6 months

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𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x sejanus #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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lilac-5ky · 8 months

Text

Holed Up (Husband!Toji x Fem!Reader)

mini kinktober tribute: stuck in a wall/hole

plot: you should've known that asking Toji to help you out of a hole would lead him inside another—or that time you got stuck in the dog house and he bailed on you for KFC.

tags: MDNI, stuck in a wall/hole, pet play (kinda), breeding, doggy style, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spanking, pet names (bitch, baby), established relationship, crack plot, unsolicited kfc orders, i promise toji loves reader, he's just joking guys.

wc: 2.2k

Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3

“Whatcha doing?”

Sarcasm rolls from your husband’s tongue as he stares down at you. Back arched, knees bent, and head encased by wooden planks. Not the most flattering position to be found in, especially with how the light autumn breeze blows at your dress and parts its layers, opening a window to the pink panties of your choice.

His question feels excessive. He knows exactly what you are doing. It was only this morning that you asked him to dig poor ol’ Mister Stinky’s remains from the dog house and he claimed he’d rather buy his son a replacement. No arguing there, but should Megumi see what became of his favored stuffed animal—fuzzy entrails gutted out of the frog’s shredded belly in a path initiating from his bedroom—he’ll be having nightmares for weeks to come.

Besides, you doubt synthetic is the kind of fiber your vet prescribed for your puppy's diet.

“What you should’ve done instead.” You finally spit out, contempt over what Toji’s long fingers could’ve accomplished without him needing to stick half his body into a hole like your, admittedly, dumbass self did.

“For thirty minutes straight? Damn, seems I overestimated ya.”

Even though your view of him is limited to a pair of overworn black slippers, you can vividly picture his scarred lips pulling over his teeth in another of his complacent smirks that scream I told you so.

“Don’t have anything better to do than time me?”

“Nah,” Toji drawls. “Grew tired of waiting on ya, so I thought I’d come see how it’s going.”

“It’s going great!” You lie through your teeth. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see how non-great this is going. “Anything else you need?”

“Well it is noon.” He points out.

“And?”

“And my darling wife’s out ‘ere, rolling in the mud when she should be having lunch with me.”

A snort flares in your nostrils. He is unbelievable.

“What a cute way of letting me know you’re hungry, Toji. You know, if you’d actually helped, I would’ve had the time to set the table and give Mister Stinky a proper burial, but I can’t do both at the same time, can I?”

“Mhm, so how ‘bout we help each other?” He suggests, undeterred. “I get your ass out, and you cook us somethin’ tasty real quick.”

“Wh-who said I was stuck? I can get out whenever I want.”

“Really, huh? What keeps ya from getting out this instant, then?”

“I don’t want to.” You answer wryly. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and I could use some time for myself.”

“In the dog house.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He’s not buying an ounce of what you’re selling. “C’mon, don’t be stubborn. You’ll end up reeking of dung if ya stay here a minute longer. Lemme give ya a hand.”

You know that accepting his help comes at the exorbitant price of utter humiliation, but he’s got a point. Last night’s downpour emanates strongly from the saturated wood, a dizzying smell that turns overwhelming when combined with the strong odor of what you sincerely hope is not piss. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing, and there’s more dirt in your nails than if you dug a grave barehanded. Right now, a day in the bathtub seems like a panacea for your every issue.

Almost.

Kissing your teeth, you resign with a long-drawn sigh that’s barely audible over the rumble in your stomach. You shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.

A moment passes before you hear the crunch of leaves as they rustle beneath his feet; see a second pair of knees take place between your own. Then it’s two hands gripping at your hips, and eventually, a face—your husband’s handsome face that beams with a smug smile and eyes of mischief.

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.” He greets, though you doubt he sees your face with all the hair that’s curtaining over your eyes while you hang upside down.

“What are you doing, Toji?” You recycle his question in an aggravated tone that fizzles out the second you feel his thumb press against your panties and tug the fabric to the side.

“Nothin’. Just curbing my hunger.” His finger teasingly glides across your nether lips and lands at your clit, while a palm large enough to envelope both your ass and cunt kneads at the tender flesh he’s offered. “Fridge’s empty, so.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“‘m not laughing, but c’mon. You hafta admit it’s pretty damn funny.” Warm air wafts from Toji’s mouth as he inches closer to your thighs. “Y’always whine when I fuck you from behind, but now? Look at you. Bent on all four like a real bitch.”

“T-Toji!”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he slides two fingers in your hole, languidly scissoring them in and out until there’s enough slick to lather your clit with. He circles around the nub while his fingers prod deeper inside, the icy touch of his wedding band clashing with the heat that sparks through your body when he bottoms out. A smothered moan gains echo as it bounces off the walls and into his ears.

“Such a well-trained pup,” Toji praises, retrieving his palm to lick his fingers. “Might win yourself a collar at this rate.”

You bite back your tongue before it can react to his backhanded comment, reminding yourself that you’re still outside, right where your neighbors can peek over the white picket fence for a quick hello and catch you slutting yourself out on your husband’s fingers.

“Can’t we continue this inside? Mrs. Honda is right next door, and M-Megumi—” You stutter when his palm returns to your body, its twin joining in spreading your cheeks further apart.

“Kid’s at school for another hour,” Toji mumbles, his hot tongue parting your folds with a long stroke that has your knees buckling. “So fuckin’ good,” he groans, his nose buried between your two holes while he lazily laps at your juices. “That sweet cunt is the reason why I married ya.”

You keen to his touch, hips bucking into his mouth, and walls clenching for more. “Only reason?”

“Nah. Consider that tight little ass as the second.”

His fingers burrow into the supple skin to squeeze at it, only lifting to deliver playful smacks that cause your ass to jiggle against his face. He growls into your pussy, mouthing all sorts of filth that gets drowned by your moans. It feels so good when he eats you out—it always does—but the probability of being caught in such a compromising position adds to the excitement.

The hand that’s trapped with you inside your pet’s house scratches at the wood, while the other rakes at the soil for grounding. Your orgasm creeps up on you, turning your vision blurry and tinting the darkness of space with colored specks. You are so close; all he needs to do is keep swirling at your clit, swallowing the entire bundle of nerves in his mouth, and sucking hard until—

“Ah, right.” He stops, words slurring from the threads of saliva that link his mouth with your cunt. “You said ya wanted time with yourself.”

Anger washes over you in place of the orgasm you were robbed of, the pleasurable fireworks traded for the obnoxious red alarm that goes off in your brain. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right fucking now, the only lunch you’ll be seeing is KFC buckets for the rest of your life!”

A low chuckle falls flat from his lips. “Three. I love that snappy mouth ‘f yours.”

In an attempt to meet his eyes, you duck between your legs. Your hair mops the floor as you watch him pull down his pants and boxers, the last thing you see before blood shoots up in your head being the hard cock that dangles out of reach. The heat in your stomach stirs at the sight, anticipation building rapidly when you feel him run the reddened tip between your puffy folds.

“Sure you don’t want it here?” Toji taps his cock against your ass hole and your entire body jolts in response, a loud Toji amusing rather than deterring him. “A’right, a’right! Gotcha the first time.”

His profound dream of burying himself nine inches deep into your ass crumbles as he aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy. You brace yourself, patiently awaiting that initial sting that never goes away; no matter how many times he fucks you or how diligently he preps you, the thickness of his girth always threatens to split you in half.

But now he’s stalling, a complacent smile sitting on his lips while he contemplates your silence. “Bet you’re red as a beet in there, aren’t ya?”

He plunges himself inside before you are given the chance to either prove or disprove him, a silent scream punched from your throat as his cock rams straight into your g-spot. He huffs a deep breath, barely keeping a groan bottled, when he feels your walls tighten around him. It’s suffocating. Wet, and tight—a little similar to what being stuck in that small space feels like for you, but infinitely more pleasurable for him.

"Mm, such a sloppy little cunt. Got yourself stuck in there for this, didn't ya?"

His fingers latch onto your hips, bruising you as his nails dig meanly into your skin. He drags his cock halfway out of your cunt only to snap his hips back in, picking up a pace that ramps up over time. His quick thrusts fuck you further into that hole, your tits bouncing and slapping against the hard wooden planks while your dress rides higher to expose your back.

Toji bends your body into an arch, a heavy palm situated on your stomach until you’re able to hold the position on your own.

“Like it when your husband fucks ya like a bitch?” He grunts, catching the hand that’s squirming on the grass beside him and twisting it behind your back. “Pounded in broad daylight f'everyone to see how dumb you get over my dick, huh?"

Your whimpers don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs at the high pitch your voice has assumed, babbling his name an incomprehensible amount of times that exceeds the frequency with which his swollen cock head kisses your pulsing core. You can't think enough to reply, and you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

He smacks your ass loud enough for you to whine, alerting every last neighbor in the block to what is happening in their quaint suburban neighborhood. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Toji—fuck, love how big it feels.” Your thoughts stem from your pussy without being filtered by your brain. All your body knows is how badly it needs to be pushed over the edge, disregarding the scornful looks you’ll definitely be receiving at the next neighborhood watch assembly.

“That’s not what I asked.” Toji smacks your ass again, softer this time—or so it feels because of your numbing skin. “I asked, Who owns this pussy, mm?”

“That’s not what you asked at all!” Your talking back earns you a third spank. You realize you’ve got no agency of your own.

“Won’t ask again. Who. Owns. This. Pussy?” He punctuates each word with a thrust sharper than the one before, his cock twitching when he hears you screaming your answer at the top of your lungs.

“You do, T-Toji. My pussy is yours—ngh!”

“And who’s bitch are you, baby?”

“Your bitch!” You answer willingly, your mind clouded, and your logic dulled. “Fuck, Toji, you know I’m all yours.”

“Damn right, y’are.” He hums in response, hunching over your body to rub tight circles around your clit, jerking the nub up and down, round and round.

You’re almost there, and when he asks you whether you wanna be bred like one, the tension in your gut finally snaps, eyes involuntary crossing as white waves of pleasure overtake you.

He fucks you through your high at an animalistic pace, the thought of filling your belly with a baby that’s half his and half yours flooding his brain before your answer registers, his cum spilling deep within your pussy with a few sloppy pumps that squelch to the sound of your mixed fluids.

His moans mingle with yours, the rough sound of his voice raising goosebumps from where he kisses your back to the resounding ringing in your ears. He wraps his arms around you almost tenderly, peppering your back with kisses that almost convince you he’ll finally pull you out of that miserable hell hole but that’s not his intention. It never was.

A final smack meets with your ass right before he rolls his pants back up and walks toward the house, undisturbed by the screams that follow close on his trail.

“You said you’d get me out of here!” Your fist hits the ground, finges clenching around a tuft of grass blades that you violently root out.

“And you said you can get out whenever ya want. That you needed time for yourself, ‘member?”

“I didn’t mean that!” You object, your tone too squeaky to be taken seriously. “Toji, you’d better help me or else—”

“Or else what? KFC until I die?” He snorts. “Relax, I’ll come back before Megumi gets ‘ere.” You hear his phone buzzing as he—presumably—punches something in his search bar. Hot wings don’t sound too bad; he whispers for himself to hear, speaking up only when he asks you if you want him to order you a twister wrap or something before he closes his order.

a/n: the episode excited me too much, apologies. i was gonna post this later asdfghjkl but toji is back and we cum.

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azsazz · 3 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 21)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,850

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

You haven’t spoken to Azriel since the morning you woke up in his bed alone.

Which, granted, has only been one day.

You’d spent the rest of your Sunday confused, rerunning the previous night over and over and over again until your head hurt with it. You thought that you and Azriel had started anew, if the passionate sex you’d shared the night before was anything to go by. But when you woke, the sheets beside you hadn’t even been warm and the note he’d left you seemed scrawled in haste, like he’d barely had the courtesy to do so on his way out the door.

Something important came up, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later. Please don’t be mad, princess. I’m coming back to you. —Az

He’d left his number but you’d left the comfort of his bed, slipping back into your dress and collecting your things before doing the ultimate walk of shame next door. Really, it’s much worse than the last time you’d snuck out of his apartment. You’d been hungover then, caring mostly about not throwing up in the hall or waking Azriel, but by the silence of the apartment as you made your way out, there was no need for you to be quiet.

It left you only with the aching between your thighs and the mottled bruises painting your skin purple.

That night was better than a dream. You would’ve never thought that you and Azriel could work past the lingering feud you’d started the year with, and you hadn’t realized how draining your constant grudge had been. It turns out that getting over yourself and under him had been the best thing that could’ve happened for your relationship.

His touch burns your skin long after you’ve showered him off. You can still feel him between your legs, fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he held you still for his taking. The feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing yours, everything that he’d done to you last night, clinging to your very being as if he’d tattooed himself across every inch of your skin.

Maybe you should’ve listened to his note. You could have easily stayed in his bed all day, with how comfortable it is, but as the minutes trickled by, the paranoia set in, eating at you until you’d had to flee.

Feyre hadn’t asked any questions when you slipped into her room after your shower. She’d welcomed you with open arms, a sad look in her eyes as if she knew exactly what happened. And maybe she did; maybe she heard you like you heard her, but you hadn’t cared, only snuggled up to your best friend's side as she put a movie on her laptop for the both of you to watch.

She knew you would tell her in good time.

It hadn’t stopped Azriel from blowing up your phone. He must’ve stolen your number from Rhsyand or Cassian, or perhaps he even told them what happened because message after message after message lit up your notifications, pleading for you to answer your phone like an incessant alarm.

Princess…it’s Az. Where did you go?

Do you want some waffles? There might still be some ice cream left before Cassian finishes it all, but with the spoon he’s found, it won’t last long.

Can I please explain?

And finally:

I can hear your phone buzzing through the wall. Please answer me.

You hadn’t replied to those, nor any of the ones that followed. You half expected him to come knocking at your door, but Feyre had noticed your poor mood and told Rhys that the two of you were having a girl’s day and not to bother either of you.

You could’ve both kissed and been upset with her for that.

You wanted that explanation from Azriel, but you also wanted him to fight for it. Let him come knocking, let him ask you in person to explain. Who finally gets the girl and leaves her to wake up alone? Especially after all of the things Azriel had admitted to you…

Monday morning is much the same. You’d successfully avoided seeing Azriel on your way to campus, and as much as you tried focusing on your drawing course, none of the shapes you were drawing turned into anything great.

You’d expected it to be bliss, to get your mind off of every little nitpicky thing you keep thinking about from that night. Feyre and Lucien’s presence helped some, but when the class quieted down for a drawing exercise and you were left alone with your thoughts once again, they naturally drifted back to yesterday morning. Maybe you had misread Azriel’s intentions and he was only looking for a one night stand. You did make the first move, afterall.

It was all a jumbled mess in your head that could only make sense if Azriel explained it. And now you’re once again thinking that you should have stayed…or at least texted him back.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Lucien asks, startling you from your thoughts. The tip of your charcoal cracks against your drawing pad and you frown, staring at the black chalky marks on your fingers. You frown, shoving the immediate thought of Azriel from your head and tilt your head up to meet Lucien’s concerned gaze.

You offer him a forced smile. “Yeah, sorry, I was zoning out a bit. I’m fine.” You hadn’t realized that class ended and everyone is packing up their things. Feyre’s over by the drawers, stowing her pad in the one you share. Lucien doesn’t look like he believes you, but he stays silent while you hastily pack your supplies away, grimacing at the drawing you’d been working on.

You don’t check your phone. You’d already woken up to multiple messages from Azriel this morning, asking to walk you to class and explain. Luckily, you hadn’t run into him on your way out the door, tearing down the staircase with a confused Feyre trying to keep up.

Lucien and Feyre are talking about where you should all head to lunch when the three of you leave the building. Alis had announced another assignment, and the premise already hangs heavy on your shoulders. The instructions were left loose enough that you have once again no idea what you’re going to draw for it. It’s infuriating, how everyone else just seems to know immediately what they’re wanting to create when it takes you weeks to figure it out, and then when you do, you’re changing your mind again and again, worried that nothing is good enough.

You run smack into Lucien’s back while you’re lost in your thoughts. Your friends are three steps out the door and your nose stings from where you’d hit it against your friend. Lucien hardly even seems to notice, his mouth set in a straight line and he and Feyre stare directly ahead.

At Azriel, who’s leaning up against the railing. He looks so nervous it’s almost as if he doesn’t even go to this school; doesn’t walk into the same buildings or around the same campus. His thumb is tucked into the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder, and the other is stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket. His black hair is tousled but not from the wind, from the amount of times he’s nervously run his fingers through it.

You watch his golden eyes flick over Feyre and Lucien, darkening as they rove over your copper haired friend while you step out from behind him. He instantly finds your gaze and they soften, and then he’s pushing off from the railing and making his way towards you. Your face heats because this is the last place you thought Azriel would corner you. In public.

“Hey, Azriel,” Feyre greets, glancing over at you. You shake your head softly but keep your gaze pinned to Azriel who strides closer like he no longer has a care in the world. It’s a front and you know it.

Azriel nods politely, but he doesn’t break your stare. “(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?”

You feel Feyre’s confused blue eyes burning into your skin. The way that she slides her phone from her pocket like she’s trying not to make any sudden movements is not missed by you nor Azriel, but neither of you seem to care that she’s seconds away from messaging Rhys about this. You wonder if he knows, if Azriel had admitted anything to his roommates about you, about the night you shared together.

Lucien is tense, shoulders coiled tight. He’s almost glaring at Azriel but it doesn’t faze the onyx haired boy in the least, like he’s a speck of dust on his shoulder. Nothing can deter Azriel, of this you know. Somehow, he’s just as stubborn as you are, and the soft look in his eyes, pleading with you, makes your stomach twist.

“Sure,” you find yourself agreeing. You turn to your friend so you don’t have to witness the relief on his face. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. And I’ll see you in Art History, Fey.”

“You better,” your best friend mutters, already tapping away at her phone. She drags Lucien by the sleeve because he doesn’t seem inclined to leave you alone with Azriel despite you agreeing to speak with him. Azriel looks like he’s going to bare his teeth at the boy. “Come on, Luc.”

You start down the stairs of the building, going the opposite direction from your friends. You can feel Lucein’s sun and moon eyes on you as you walk, but you don’t turn around to look.

Azriel catches up to you in two great strides. You don’t know where you’re going, fine with waltzing around campus while you talk. You might need to text Feyre to bring you something to eat during class, because you’re getting hungry for lunch.

“I don’t like him,” Azriel mutters, and you can tell by the tight grip he has on the straps of his backpack.

“I don’t think you like anyone,” you respond, not unkindly, but it’s not a friendly remark either. It’s strange almost, to be seen with him in public not only after your public feud, but the night you’d spent together as well. It feels like a dirty little secret has come to light, and you don’t like it.

Azriel glances at you sidelong, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “I like you.”

You snort because he doesn’t even know you, not really. “You didn’t even like me two days ago, Azriel,” you start but he’s already shaking his head in disagreement, denying your accusations. “And with the way you up and left me in your room, I’m thinking there’s still a possibility that you don’t even like me now.”

He stops you with a gentle hand on your elbow, turning you to face him. You stumble at the suddenness of the move and it puts you a step closer to him than you’d like. His grip on your arm isn’t firm or demanding, it’s a soft caress that matches the pleading look in his honeyed eyes.

“Please,” he murmurs, and you can see just how much your avoidance has been bothering him. His fingers tremble along your arms and when you look down at them he pulls away, nervously tucking them into the pocket of his hoodie. It makes something in your chest crack a little. “I can explain.”

“Explain, then,” you answer simply.

Azriel shifts on his feet, glancing around. There are students milling about and you should probably keep walking or at least move out of the way, lest the both of you get mowed down by someone late to class or a biker. “Here?”

You quirk a brow.

He sighs a little, exasperated. “Can I take you somewhere? How about lunch?”

You study him. It’s clear that he wants to explain to you, and he looks just as stressed out about the situation as you are. And you really do want to hear what he has to say for himself, if his reason for leaving you is forgivable…

“Fine,” you relent, and his shoulders drop a notch. “But I have class this afternoon and I can’t be late.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rita’s is the kind of place that you walk past and don’t go in.

The outside is a smidge better than decrepit, with its peeling paint and uneven sidewalk. There’s graffiti on the side of the building, tags you can hardly ready with how curvy and obnoxious the letters look. One of the windows has a shade, but it’s hanging by a thread and looks more like a hazard than not, and the rest of the windows are bare, sunlight pouring into the yellowing casement. You wouldn’t even know the place is open with its rusted neon sign so broken and sad.

But Azriel guides you in through the door with a hand on the small of your back and you blame the shiver that travels up your spine on the blast of cold air that hits you in the face when you step over the threshold.

Maybe you’ve been a little harsh on its exterior appearance because the inside is tidy. The air smells like greasy burgers and crunchy fries, and there’s a shiny jukebox in the corner playing an oldies song you think you’ve heard at one of Cassian’s parties once. Well, you heard it through the wall when the entirety of said party belted it at the top of their lungs and not even your headphones could block out the noise.

There’s an older man sitting at the counter and a girl who looks to be about your age behind the counter. She’s smacking her gum and doodling on her order pad, a half abandoned milkshake melting in the red cup beside her. She doesn’t even look up when Azriel leads you towards a booth, and you slide in opposite him with furrowed brows.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, nervousness flicking through his eyes. He hesitates to sit down, awaiting your response.

“Nothing,” you assure him with a soft smile you don’t feel is genuine. “I didn’t even know this place was here, really.”

Azriel all but slumps onto the electric blue seat, eyes sparkling with delight. Your heart rate picks up at the sight of the little grin he offers you. It’s nice to see this side of him, happy and relaxed, in his element.

You wonder how he looks when he’s concentrated on a drawing, or a tattoo.

He’s got them covered up with his leather jacket today, though the tips of those coiling shadows around his collar bones peek out from the neckline of his black t-shirt and you think about how much you were coiled around each other the other night, skin to skin.

Your cheeks heat with the memory, and you look down at your lap.

“It’s great,” Azriel explains, slipping out of his jacket. You wish you had paid more attention to the artwork marking his skin the night you spent together but there hadn’t been much time to with the way you were all over each other, and he wasn’t around when you woke up. “Been coming here since freshman year.”

You’re about to respond when the waitress you’d seen arrives, slapping two menu’s down on the funky patterned table. You startle with the motion and shift uncomfortably when Azriel all but glares at the girl. She doesn’t seem to care though, flipping her stark white hair over her shoulder with a sneer.

Her brown eyes flit over you like you’re a piece of her chewed gum stuck under the table, then leans her hip against the edge of the table, flipping her order pad open. “I already know what you want,” he says haughtily to Azriel, and then those piercing brown eyes are on you, pinning you to your seat like it’s a trap from Saw. “What will you be having?”

“I, um, I’m not sure yet,” you stutter awkwardly, because you’re confused. Who is this and why is Azriel acting like this is normal? “I need to look at the menu.”

She rolls her eyes and the silence that ensues makes your face grow hot, sweat bead at your hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest, popping a bubble with her gum, and it’s as if she’s waiting for you to look at the menu and decide right now. You send a pleading look to Azriel whose jaw is ticking with annoyance.

“Give us a minute, will you, Cresseida? And let Rita know I’m here. Thanks.”

With another eye roll and an annoyed “Whatever,” Cresseida all but stomps away from your table. Your eyes trail her until she’s around the counter and pushing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

“She seems…lovely,” you mutter, fingering the corner of the menu where it’s bent. “Seems like the kind of place you would’ve taken me when we didn’t like each other,” you tack on, squinting at the small font. Why are there so many items on the menu?

“I’m sorry about her,” Azriel blurts, and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen him blush. It’s unfairly adorable. He offers you a hand, face up, and you can’t resist that look in his eyes, how he’s offering you his scarred hand instead of hiding it. With a short huff, you place your palm on his and he immediately intertwines your fingers, holding tight. It makes you blush. “She’s always been cranky,” he peers over his shoulder like she might be standing right behind him. “I promise, Rita is much nicer.”

You give him a forced smile because honestly, you’re not sure what else to say to that. You’re not even sure you’re all that hungry anymore, with Cresseida’s off putting attitude and the nerves that are gnawing on your stomach from the talk you’re about to have with Azriel.

You busy yourself with looking at the menu. There are way too many options and not enough time to decide because a short, stocky woman is trapezing her way around the countertop and towards your table, her eyes glowing with joy.

“Azriel, what brings you back so soon? Oh—and who is this lovely lady?” Her eyes fall across your intertwined fingers and she fails to stifle the beaming grin that appears on her red lips. You can tell that she’s a gem by appearance alone, but also in the way that she looks at Azriel, like he’s the son she’s never had. You can’t help but to smile at her. Her round face is flush with a permanent blush and she looks like the kind of woman you’d love to hug.

“Rita, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Rita, the owner of Rita’s Diner.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you greet eagerly, trying to pull your hand away from Azriel’s to shake her hand. He doesn’t let go, and smirks at the glare you shoot his way.

“(Y/N) as in…” Rita trails off, flicking a glance at Azriel. You narrow your eyes at him, curious as to what he’s told her about you. She continues, “As in your girlfriend, Azriel?”

You almost splutter, cheeks going red hot at her insinuation.

Azriel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, admiring the color to your cheeks and the shock in your eyes. “Not yet.”

Not yet.

But maybe soon, when he finally explains himself.

Rita winks at him and you really want to bury your face in the menu right now.

“What can I get for you, darlin’?” Rita asks, her voice sweet as cherry pie.

“I don’t know, there are so many options…” you trail off, sending a pleading look towards Azriel. “Almost too many to choose from.”

Rita’s chest swells with pride and Azriel snickers.

“Cass prefers the pancakes,” he supplies, “But I think the waffles are better.”

“Pancakes, it is,” you beam, handing Rita back the menu. Azriel glares playfully and Rita seems positively overjoyed as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Your smiles fade with Rita’s cheerful attitude and it’s all too soon that you’re aware you’re holding Azriel’s hand and he still hasn’t explained. You look at him and he’s already sighing. There are dark circles under his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, and you can tell that he hadn’t slept well last night either.

Azriel strokes a thumb across your knuckles and your tense shoulders ease a bit. The embarrassment you’d felt when you woken up alone in his bed has simmered with his eagerness to explain to you what happened that morning, but you’re still feeling a bit tender about it, especially when you see the pained look on Azriel’s face.

Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.

And you feel like a fool when he answers your question lingering between the both of you.

“The reason I wasn’t there that morning was because my father was in town. He came to see me.”

You try to swallow back the sudden rage boiling up from your stomach. The man who’d let his step-sons burn Azriel’s hands. The one who doesn’t want him to follow his dreams, his passions, when he clearly has the skill to do something amazing with them. The one who didn’t even visit him that night of the incident.

You squeeze his hand and Azriel seems to relax, understanding your forgiveness. Your throat is still tight when you respond, forcing the word out. “Okay…”

It gives him room to continue, even though Azriel looks like he’d rather face Cresseida’s wrath again.

“He found interest in purchasing and renovating our apartment building.”

You blink, not sure you’ve heard him correctly. “What?” You tack on, defensively. “Why?”

Azriel shrugs. To keep me in fucking check. He sighs as if the tremendous weight on his shoulders is two seconds away from crushing him completely. You don’t like that frown on his face and you don’t like his father.

“He thinks it’s a good investment opportunity, I guess.”

You don’t like the sound of this one bit, and Azriel agrees with you.

“And if he does buy it?”

Azriel shakes his head sadly, “No more neighbors.”

You didn’t think the thought of not being his next door neighbor would hit you so hard. Your chest aches with the idea of it, no longer sharing a wall. Even though you despised it at the beginning, you’ve gotten used to and even like the fact that you share a wall now.

Rita comes back and sets a plate of hot pancakes in front of you and a stack of blueberry waffles in front of Azriel. Everything smells delicious and your mouth waters at the sight of the thick pat of butter melting its way across the top of your breakfast.

She places a milkshake between you and Azriel, and there’s no missing the two neon colored straws sticking out of the top. You blush, thanking her.

She winks in response. “Enjoy, you two.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthrongirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl

#acotar #midnight muse #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #art school au #artist!azriel

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theostrophywife · 10 months

Note

Hii! Az fluff request here.

I was thinking of the inner circle being out having dinner somewhere and the reader is exhausted. Az notices it and moves his arm for her to lean on him and she falls asleep there, head in az’s arm. Az being all cute w her in front of the inner circle. Or something like that!

Love your writing!!

wake me up.

author’s note: wake up babes it’s time to yearn. this drabble is brought to you by this song.

the shadowsinger could tell that you’d had a long day, but he didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you almost placed the chocolate cake in the sink instead of the dirty dishes. azriel took the dessert tray from your hands and handed you the dishes instead in one smooth move.

you blinked in surprise. “oh, thanks az. soggy cake would’ve made a horrible dessert.”

azriel frowned in concern. “you look exhausted. when’s the last time you slept?”

you wiped your soapy hands on the front of your apron. “always great to hear that i look haggard and tired.”

az’s eyes widened. “i didn’t mean— you always look great — i just…”

the soft little chuckle that fell from your lips instantly relaxed the shadowsinger. “i’m just messing with you, az.” you smoothed down the worried frown lines on his forehead. “don’t worry about little old me. it’s just been a long day, that’s all.”

“if you want to head upstairs and rest, i can finish cleaning up here. the others won’t mind.”

you stubbornly shook your head. “are you kidding? i’m not missing game night. the last time we played poker cas got so mad he flipped a table and got put in time out. it’s worth losing sleep over.” sidestepping the shadowsinger, you finished washing the rest of the dishes. you could’ve easily used your powers, but cleaning always made you feel accomplished. besides, it gave you an excuse to be alone with azriel for a little while longer.

“are you sure? i just don’t want you missing any sleep.”

as you racked the plates, you couldn’t help but smile. this was so typically azriel. always looking out for his friends. “you’re sweet to worry, but really, i’m fine az. now let’s go kick some ass at poker.”

halfway through the game, the shadowsinger was convinced that he should’ve insisted on marching you straight to bed. you were barely keeping your eyes open, yawning every now and then while stubbornly stating that you weren’t even a tiny bit tired.

as expected, the poker game had turned heated fairly quickly. cas and rhys were arguing about some trivial rule, while their mates sighed exasperatedly. mor and amren had completely abandoned their cards all together, choosing to drink their weight in wine instead. despite his brothers argument, the only one close to winning was lucien who winked at elain from across the table. his mate blushed and smiled back before turning her attention to azriel.

she nodded in your direction, slumped form currently growing sleepier by the second. elain patted her shoulder, signaling to the shadowsinger. azriel got the hint and scooted closer to you.

“looks like this game isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.” the shadowsinger set his cards down and moved his arm over the back of the sofa. “you might wanna settle in, this might take a while.”

you watched through bleary eyes as cassian angrily waved his deck in rhysand’s face. the high lord looked affronted, which made you snort in amusement. those two were worse than children.

you yawned once again. “okay, but only for a little bit.” azriel nodded as you curled against him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“finally,” lucien mouthed.

azriel glared at him, which only caused the redhead to smirk. elain elbowed him, but there was a quirk to her mouth that told azriel that she obviously agreed. luckily, you were too sleepy to notice the exchange with the meddlesome couple.

“promise you’ll wake me up, az?” you asked as azriel stroked your hair.

“i promise.”

he’d wake you up eventually. he just didn’t specify when.

within minutes, you were fast asleep on his shoulder. azriel pulled the blanket over you, making sure that you were comfortable and undisturbed. the shadowsinger rubbed circles against your back, lulling you into deeper sleep. you looked so peaceful in his arms. he was so engrossed in you that he didn’t even notice that the whole room had gone quiet.

“well, aren’t you two adorable?” rhys said with a smirk. at some point, him and cassian had stopped arguing and focused their attention on the shadowsinger instead.

“you never hold me like that nes.” cassian teased with a pout.

“that’s because you snore loud enough to wake up the whole damn house,” scoffed nesta. “plus, you drool in your sleep.”

cassian gasped in feigned outrage. the shadowsinger shushed him. “not so loud, cas. you’ll wake y/n up.”

“rhys is right, you know.” feyre whispered. “you two are so cute together.”

“it’s about time you do something about it, shadowsinger.” amren said pointedly.

“it’s obvious that you two have chemistry together,” mor added. “you should ask her out on a date. not your little “just friends” picnics. i mean a real date, like dinner and a nice restaurant and candles and everything. oh my gods, i’ll have to help her pick out a dress!”

“that’s a great idea, mor.” feyre agreed excitedly. “we can all go shopping together.”

elain clapped. “i can put together a bouquet for you! y/n adores roses. especially the ones from my garden.”

“name the place and i’ll handle the reservations, brother.” rhysand offered.

“you’ll have to take her to that new gelato place, too.” lucien suggested. “she’s been raving about it for days.”

azriel rubbed his temples as his friends planned out this hypothetical date that he apparently got no say in. the shadowsinger knew they meant well, but if he was going to take you out, he’d do it on his own terms. plus, it’s not like he’d been thinking about your first date for months now. agonizing, was more like it. everything was planned right down to the last detail.

he just had to suck it up and actually ask.

“thank you for the unsolicited advice,” azriel said dryly. “but i think i’ve got it.”

the shadowsinger lifted you up with ease and walked out of the living room, leaving the rest of his friends to their own devices. he quietly made his way up the stairs, taking great care not to wake you. azriel paused on the top step as you stirred in his arms.

“az?” you murmured softly. it was so quiet he thought he’d imagined it.

“yeah?”

you cuddled against his chest, curling your arms around his neck. “promise you’ll ask when i wake up?”

azriel’s heart stopped for a second. then, sunlight filled his veins as you smiled sleepily up at him. he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“i promise, y/n.”

#excuse me but what the fuck #i need to scream for a sec #azriel #azriel fic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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ddarker-dreams · 5 months

Text

Wanderer x Reader.

just a lil something for the birthday boy <33333333333333333

Atop the tallest tree in Sumeru City, you sit thigh to thigh with your favorite Vahumana student. Your legs dangle over the wide branch’s edge, where you happily swing them back and forth, your spirit as high as your altitude.

This enthusiasm isn’t mutual. Your companion’s in a fouler mood than usual, thanks to ‘that tedious busybody’ (aka Lesser Lord Kusanali) and a ‘ridiculous bleeding heart’ (aka you). Despite his many colorful complaints, he brought you along to one of his favorite spots. He didn’t drop you like he threatened to either! You’re grateful for every second you’ve gotten to spend not being a mangled splat on the ground.

“We’re in the nation of wisdom,” You gesticulate wildly to the civilization beneath you. “Knowledge is meant to be shared, not hoarded.”

There’s a deep sigh to your left.

“You’re incessant.”

“I have to be, or I’d know nothing about you.”

“Hah!” He barks a sardonic laugh, “Would that be so terrible?”

Without hesitation, you respond, “Yes.”

The Wanderer crosses his arms over his chest, unconvinced. Fortunately, if there’s anything you excel at, it’s proving points that aren’t worth the effort of proving.

“Consider this! If, during your many passionate attempts at courting me—”

(“A mistake, no doubt,” he chimes in, which you pointedly ignore).

“—I never learned anything besides the fact you go by a noun and are unfairly pretty, you wouldn’t have succeeded in wooing me. Where would you be then, hm? Brooding in some dark corner, downing bottles of cheap liquor, lamenting what could’ve been but never was? Have you ever considered that?”

“I'm considering it now. Enviously, at that.”

The Wanderer snickers at the pained countenance you adopt. You both know that’s a lie. Perhaps he’s tried to convince himself it isn’t, but that’s a him problem. If your attention was a drug, he’d be an addict; hence the integrity of your not-splatted body.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say. Nonetheless, my point stands. Relationships are about vulnerability. Communication. An open channel that extends both ways,” your plea doesn’t move him. So, you switch to another tactic. “C’mon. Throw me a bone here. Just an itsy bitsy teeny little bone.”

The Wanderer’s eyebrows pinch together, his lips set in a thin line. Incandescent indigo eyes consider you. Persistent as you can be, you’ve never pushed the subject of his past. You can read him like a gauge and know the instant to back off. If he genuinely wanted you to let this go, you would’ve. Sometimes he just likes being fussed over.

“Why do you want to know how old I am?”

And here you arrive at the heart of the matter — his birthday. Which, without the involvement of a certain benevolent Archon, would’ve come and gone unbeknownst to you. The Wanderer couldn’t care less about the special day if he tried. While his ‘birth’ may not have been the traditional kind, it’s no less significant to you.

Your Wanderer, your beloved Kunikuzushi, has been a permanent fixture in recent memory. Wherever you go, he isn’t far behind. He stands up for you when you don’t have the heart to say no, challenges your thoughts as much as you challenge his, and is earnest in every pursuit he deems worth the effort. You adore him. As such, you consider it your personal mission to express this sentiment whenever possible.

“It’s simple,” you explain. “You need a kiss for each year. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

The Wanderer looks at you like you just spoke another language. “What sort of rule is that?”

“The only kind worth following.”

He studies you carefully. You might be good at reading him, but he’s masterful at reading you. A true connoisseur. He knows when you’re lying to yourself before you even know. The concentration on his face relaxes into something amused, almost impish.

Uh oh.

His shoulders shake as he chuckles at a joke you apparently aren’t in on.

“Ah, you should’ve led with that,” he’s grinning now, contentment rolling off him in waves. His hand brushes over your collarbones, then your neck, finally settling on your chin. Transfixed by his beauty, you stay still as his face creeps closer. “If the earliest records from that place are to be believed, I’m around 500.”

You squint.

“Like… five with two zeros at the end…?”

“If basic arithmetic is to be believed, yes.”

“... Oh wow, that’s a lot of kisses.”

The Wanderer’s iris’ gleam.

“Brilliant deduction,” he rolls his eyes. Then, his wicked grin sharpens, his head tilting to the side in challenge. “Well? I’m waiting. Get to work. And don’t worry — I’ll keep count.”

Overcoming your initial shock, you press your lips to his in a featherlight kiss. Before he can reciprocate in kind, you pull back, enjoying the frustration this causes. His eyes narrow into a menacing glare. To soothe the irritation you’ve caused, you kiss his hand, gazing up at him from beneath your eyelashes as you do so.

Involuntary shivers claim his body.

Wordlessly, you stare at one another. Anticipation thrums in the air.

And then you’re upon one another once more — where you remain until the count reaches zero.

#writing for him is like an antidote for the soul #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche brainrot #my stuff

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fushigurro · 7 months

Text

𝘼 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙍 𝙀𝘼𝘾𝙃 𝘿𝘼𝙔.

𝗠𝗘𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / established relationship, mommy kink (reader referred to as mommy/momma) / hand job / unprotected piv sex / riding / creampie / 2.5k words

the people have spoken!!!! i posted a poll because i needed help deciding who to write mommy kink for first, and my darling megumi ultimately came out ahead. this is like one of my fave kinks of all time so just know that this is not the last you'll see of it. also this might be somewhat ooc idk but fuck it we ball!!!!

He’d been quieter than usual today, and you hadn’t been able to figure out why.

It was in Megumi’s nature to be rather brooding and reserved, but you’d noticed an excess of antisocial behavior ever since he’d woken up this morning. You’d checked in on him, of course, but when he repeatedly insisted that everything was fine, you simply let it go lest you push him further into irritable territory. You would’ve preferred him to be on a more agreeable wavelength since you both were meant to be meeting up with friends later in the day.

His apathetic demeanor didn’t change, however, even in the midst of good food, fun games, and beloved companions. It didn’t cause any of the others any concern seeing that it was rather typical of him, but you knew Megumi well enough to know that something was still booking beneath the surface, regardless of his denial.

He’d subtly clung to your side the entire time, sulking and waiting for the moment when you’d decided you’d had your fill of entertainment and were ready to go home. That moment hadn’t come fast enough, however, and he found himself growing increasingly impatient.

When the others had become distracted, Megumi took it as an opportunity to push his agenda. Standing next to you, he leaned in close, lips only a few inches away from your ear to keep any eavesdroppers from listening in. “Can we go now?” he mumbled, jaw clenched and voice colored by a somewhat irritable tone.

The smile on your face faded, and you turned your head to look over at him. His expression, though still rather neutral, had a sincere and pleading aura that you couldn’t ignore. You’d decided right then and there that it was time to take your leave.

You placed a kiss against his temple and softly said, “Yeah, baby, of course. Let’s go.”

Much to your friends’ dismay, you’d quickly made your departure and drove home in silence, thinking of ways to hash things out with Megumi once you both arrived home.

Now, closing the door behind you and setting your things down, you watch as your boyfriend quietly pads off to take a seat on the couch, acting as though nothing peculiar had happened at all. You follow behind him and stand with your hands on your hips, peering down at him with a curious gaze.

“So…” you start, “you gonna tell me what’s the matter?”

He looks up at you, expressionless. “Nothing. I just wanted to get out of there.” Megumi sighs when you take a seat next to him. “I got tired of listening to Nobara’s big mouth.”

“You’re used to Nobara’s big mouth,” you reply, not touching or smothering him, but rather speaking softly and maintaining boundaries. “And besides, you’ve been acting off all day, even before the party.”

He doesn’t respond or even look in your direction, so you place a hand under his chin and guide him to meet your gaze. “So, tell me… what’s wrong?”

Your eyes force his to soften almost immediately, but then he responds by gently jerking away with a small scowl and the hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. After a moment, he speaks again. “I guess I was just… hoping we could spend the day together. Alone.”

Your heart swells with both glee and guilt, wishing you’d known before dragging him off to a busy get-together. “Megs, you should’ve told me. We could’ve skipped out.”

“You were looking forward to hanging out with everybody.”

“Yeah, well… I still would’ve cancelled,” you reassure him with a whispery voice, brushing your fingers through the hair against his forehead. “I love those guys, but I love you more.”

Megumi’s blush grows deeper now even as he stares ahead with stoicism, trying to ignore your affection and his own vulnerability, but you don’t let him. You take it upon yourself to slide into his lap, giving him no choice but to face you as you grab his chin and stroke it with your thumb to gain his attention. “Do you hear me? I love you.”

He gulps at the seriousness of your words and then utters with a down-cast gaze, “I love you too.” This makes you smile and lean forward to press a quick kiss against his lips. Little do you know, you’ve already been making his cock twitch all evening, and this moment is certainly no exception.

“Good,” you say, pressing another little kiss to the tip of his nose. Your sweet words and closeness has suddenly become overwhelming for him, and Megumi can’t help but lean in for another kiss now that you’ve teased him with your familiar taste. It’s soft, but it catches you by surprise given his previous attitude, and it suddenly dawns on you when you feel the way he clutches at your hips that this must be what he’s been waiting for all day.

Megumi often has trouble expressing his wants and needs—some days more than others—so it wasn’t unheard of for him to bottle things up until he couldn’t hold them inside anymore. You’ve always tried to urge him to be more open with you, but it’s a work in progress, and sometimes all you can do is be there for him in the moments he decides to let his walls down. This is one of those moments.

You can tell he’s holding himself back as he kisses you slowly, fingers trying not to dig too harshly into your skin, but you want him to know that he has full permission to ask for what he wants, so you deepen the kiss and move to press your body in closer to his. Megumi accepts without protest and meets your enthusiasm now that you’ve paved the way, licking into your mouth and shuddering when you grind down in his lap.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” you ask after pulling back for air. He hesitates for a moment and then nods once with a blissfully innocent look in his eyes despite the way his chest heaves up and down and his cock hardens beneath you. It felt impossible to admit to you earlier that he just wanted you all to himself, but now he regrets not having done it sooner.

You don’t tease him for it, don’t make him feel guilty or inadequate for his lack of communication, but rather tend to him with every bit of love you think he deserves. You give his lips another kiss, then the corner of his mouth, his jaw, and finally up to where your breath lingers just below his ear. You suck there and feel him tense up, fighting back a hiss of arousal now that you’ve gotten him so worked up with your diligent attention.

Kissing different spots along his throat, you wiggle back enough so that you can reach down and palm at the bulge in his pants until his hips twitch responsively. Then, slowly, you begin undoing the button and zipper with a warmth to your voice. “You’re so good for me, Megumi,” you say as you slip your hand into his pants and apply a pressure that makes his breath hitch. Then, you continue lowly in his ear, “Mama’s gonna make you feel better, okay?”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond before you’re tugging at the waistband of his pants and briefs, his hips raising up instinctively to assist you in pulling them down until his cock springs free and streaks his belly with precum. Your words mixed with his obvious arousal causes Megumi’s cheeks to heat up with embarrassment, and all he can do is throw his head back when you rub the tip of your finger across his leaking slit and bring it up to your mouth for a taste.

“Mmm… my beautiful boy. Wish you would let me know when you need me to take care of you.” You feel his fingers grip at you with more intensity as you speak, and he gasps when you drool down onto his length and wrap your hand around it, letting your saliva mix with his pre. “But it’s okay—I’ve got you now.” You stroke him once, then twice, and Megumi has to grit his teeth to keep from cumming right on the spot. You never fail to have him unraveling when he gets like this, and although it’s borderline humiliating for him to get so wound up, he can’t deny that you always make it feel incredible.

His eyes are squeezed shut and jaw clenched as you continue to slick his cock up and stroke it in your fist, working him closer to an orgasm with every second. Even with the building pleasure, he’s as quiet as ever, save for the soft sound of his breath and the occasional stray grunt, so you decide to prod at him a bit.

“Look at me, baby,” you command gently, stroking his cheek with your thumb until he opens his eyes. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on; tell me what you need.”

Megumi swallows and breathes, staring into your eyes. “F-feels good…” he says breathlessly, hissing when you thumb beneath the sensitive head of his cock. “Need you to—ah!” A shiver runs down his spine as you pick up your pace and force the words out of him. “Need you to—fu-uck, mommy… fuck me, please.” It tumbles from his lips with little grace but enough desperation to make up for it. There’s already a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and you know that you simply can’t deny his request.

Rising up from his lap, you shimmy out of your pants and let them fall to the floor before retaking your seat, his briefly neglected cock twitching at the sight of your wet cunt. You balance on your knees and bring his tip to brush along your folds only a couple of times before starting to sink yourself onto him, not keen on teasing or making him wait despite your own lack of prep. You know he needs this, so you’re going to provide.

Megumi releases his first real moan at the feeling of you sliding down onto him and surrounding him with your walls, squeezing each inch with your warmth and selflessness. He trembles when you're fully seated, the stretch heating up your core and causing you to clamp down in a way that already has him once again fighting off an orgasm, but he uses every ounce of concentration to keep from releasing so soon. You can tell that he’s struggling with the intensity of it all, so you sit still like this for a few moments to let him soak in the sensations before you start moving.

Without saying a word, he leans in to hide himself away in your neck, feeling safe tucked in against you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He’s desperate for release, yes, but he’s even more desperate to simply feel you close. He’s already as deep inside you as possible, prodding at your womb, but the depth only increases when he gets to hold you tightly, feeling you against him even through all the layers of clothing that keep you apart.

You place a hand at the back of his neck to offer him more security while he mouths at your skin, then you press a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m gonna start moving now,” you warn him, and he nods, pulling his head back with what looks like tears welling up in his eyes. It makes your heart thump. “Cum whenever you need to, okay?” You’re hardly worried about yourself; you just want him to get as much pleasure out of this as he can, and to not hold himself back for your sake.

Megumi looks at you appreciatively but feels almost pathetic at how needy he is; however, he feels safest when he’s with you, free from harsh judgement, so he does his best to listen to what his body tells him. You rock your hips against him and it feels like heaven for him to slide against your walls, feeling you in the most intimate way possible. It’s almost like the first time all over again, the emotional rawness of it consuming him and leaving him so sensitive that he might as well be a virgin. Every time you strip him down to his fundamental self, there’s always something cosmic about it.

After giving him a few slower rolls of your hips, you start to pick up the pace and use your knees to rise up and down, bouncing yourself on his cock and earning a lovely whimper in return. Megumi’s body relaxes more now that you drop yourself onto him and offer him the most magnificent of pleasures, leaving him wondering why he ever feels the need to hold himself back from you. It’s harder to leave behind old habits than one might think, but you’d consider moments like these to be the markers of significant progress.

The fire in his gut is growing with each second of you squeezing around him, and the wet, rhythmic sound meeting his ears makes Megumi even more flustered than before. He wishes this were one of the times in which he could hold out and use his stamina to make you feel infinitely good in return, but with the way his balls tighten and heart gallops in his chest, he has no choice but to give in to his own pleasure like you ask of him.

“‘M’gonna…” he starts, not fully saying the words, but you know exactly what he means regardless. His breaths are coming more quickly as you keep moving your hips, and every sign is pointing towards his release.

“That’s okay, baby—you can cum.” It only takes your words and a couple more strokes before he’s whimpering and shooting his load inside you, arms tightening around your waist to keep you in place as every last bit of seed pulses out of him. Megumi presses his forehead to your chest and trembles out the remainder of his orgasm, happily letting you stroke his hair and coo at him while the pleasure incapacitates him.

“Good boy. Mommy’s got you,” you whisper into his hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. You hold him there for as long as it takes for him to float back down to earth and go limp in your arms, feeling the wave of relaxation wash over him. Even after he’s come to his senses and looks up at you with hazy eyes and the path from a single tear staining his cheek, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get him to let you go long enough to clean you both up.

So you decide that it can’t hurt to sit here like this for a few more moments, letting your grumpy boy enjoy his bliss while you get the satisfaction of holding him in your arms like no one before you ever has.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #my writing.#re: megumi fushiguro

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munsonsmixtapes · 19 days

Text

Wanna Bet?

tattoo artist!Eddie x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: You don't like Eddie, but he's going to convince you that you do, even if it takes a bet to prove it.

This takes places in the year 2,000!

word count: 4,890

cw: none!

Part One

You stared at the door in front of you, the hours that were painted onto it staring back at you. Maybe if you had stood there long enough, the place would’ve closed and you could just leave. You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You had more tattoos than anyone you knew so this one should’ve been a breeze.

Maybe it was because it was a new place. There were new people you didn’t really know yet. The tattoo shop where you had worked had shut down because of a fire and you were still in shock because of it. So not only had you lost your job, but the appointment you had set up with Kip, the owner, had been canceled. He was the only one you trusted so you were hesitant when he had given you a referral. You didn’t care if it was a friend of his, you were still nervous as shit.

Your hand rested on the door handle. You couldn’t get yourself to open it, bile climbing up your throat. You were terrified to say the least, anxiety coursing through you as you thought of every possible thing that could’ve gone wrong.

You had your consultation with Gareth weeks ago and had called to reschedule because you had been scared, but now you were ready. It was just a small tattoo and Gareth had assured you that he’d go easy on you and you could take as many breaks as you wanted. You were looking forward to working with him despite your nervousness.

You finally went inside and the whole place was very tidy despite the sketchy looking exterior. It definitely seemed like whoever owned the place knew exactly how to make people feel comfortable. There was a seating area by the front door with a large couch and a coffee table with a bunch of magazines spread out on it neatly.

A coffee bar was sitting by the front desk, complete with a freshly brewed pot and an array of mugs that fit the aesthetic of the building. There were also different types of sweeteners and a small refrigerator that was filled with many different brands of bottled water as well as multiple different flavors of coffee creamer.

The walls were covered in framed sketches and you wished you had the time to look at them all, fascinated by the details of each one. Rock music was playing loudly over the speakers and it was a song that you had recognized from the radio.

You walked up to the reception desk and the same guy you had remembered from before was behind it typing away on the computer. He looked up at you and gave you a bright smile as if you were old friends.

He was on the phone with who you assumed was a customer and it didn’t seem to be going well just from hearing his side of the conversation.

“Yes, I am so sorry, Rebecca. Believe me, it won’t happen again. Yes, he knows all about it. Yes, I’ll tell him. You have my word. Alright. Buh-bye.” He hung up the phone and brought his attention to you, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, so sorry about that. Welcome in,” he greeted, his honey eyes shining bright from the sun shining through the window. “How can I help you?”

“I have an appointment.” You gave him your first and last name and he typed some stuff into the computer before looking back up at you. You eyed him and couldn’t help but notice how out of place he looked there. He didn’t have a single tattoo on him and looked like he would’ve been scared to actually step foot into the building.

“Alright, y/n,” his smile widened and you wondered if his cheeks ever hurt from doing that as often as he seemed to do. “If you’ll follow me, we can-“ His words were cut off by the front door opening. It was slammed shut so loudly that the frames on the wall rattled. Whoever had just entered had wanted to make an entrance and it clearly had worked since everyone had turned to see what all the commotion was about. Both you and the receptionist turned to see for yourselves to see the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on.

“I’m back, baby,” he announced, holding his arms out. Your eyes trailed down his body from his long curly hair to his black combat boots. He was so attractive and you wondered how you had never seen him before. You definitely would have remembered him if you had. The receptionist made a beeline for him as well as a few of the employees. It was clear that the man had been gone a while considering everyone’s reaction to him. He must have been pretty popular around there.

“Steve, hug me, honey,” he pulled ‘Steve’ into his arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek only for Steve to rub it away in response. Despite his disgust, you could hear a little giggle fall from his mouth. Was this man God? He must have been because no one would react that way to a mediocre man, would they? At least, you hoped not. You hoped they all had higher standards than that.

He took a drag of the cigarette he was holding and flashed you a smile before crossing the floor to the desk. The smoke passed through his lips and into the air and he titled his head down, his eyes locking onto yours.

You knew his type just by looking at him. He was the life of the party. The kind of guy who thought that everyone was into him just because of his giant ego. And they were into him because of the way he carried himself. Like he didn’t give a damn about anything. And he didn’t. Not even the people who he claimed to be friends with.

You could see him eyeing you when he stepped behind the desk, going through the envelopes that had been sitting on top of it. When most men checked you out, you’d pull your shirt down to show them a little cleavage, but for this guy, you just wrapped your cardigan around yourself, wanting to hide your body. He didn’t seem amused but wasn’t backing off.

It was as if seeing the man had brought your confidence back. Like you were no longer the shy woman you had been just moments ago. Being around men who were full of themselves tended to do that to you. It was as if you felt the need to one up them, having more confidence than they did. You wanted to show that you had superiority.

You turned your back to him, looking at the frames on the wall as you waited for your appointment to get straightened away. You didn’t have anywhere to be until you had to work later that night so you supposed that you could’ve waited just a bit longer.

Your eyes locked onto one in particular. It was a sunflower and you normally wouldn’t have noticed it if it hadn’t stood out amongst all the other images that were far more dark subject matter. It was pretty and so realistic, like you could have reached out and plucked it from the painting.

“Who’s the babe?” Eddie leaned over to Steve, whispering so he was the only one who could hear him. They both looked at you and you just avoided them, still looking at the frames.

“She’s a client,” Steve replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He loved the guy, but sometimes he couldn’t help but think that Eddie was nothing but a pig. “Jesus, Eddie. You just got back home and already can’t keep your dick in your pants?”

“I’m human,” Eddie smirked, his eyes moving down to your ass, admiring the shape of it before turning back to Steve. “Sue me. I mean, look at her man,” he referred to you with his hand. “Look at that ass.” He leaned closer to Steve, pulling his lip between his teeth as he turned back to you to get another glimpse.

“Did you miss the word ‘client’ coming out of my mouth? I’m serious, Ed, you can’t keep sleeping with them. It not only makes you look bad, it also makes the company look bad.”

The shop had gotten multiple phone calls that Steve had the unfortunate pleasure of being on the receiving end of because that had been the phone number he has given the people he had slept with because he hadn’t deemed them important enough to give them his home number.

Not only that, but Steve had walked in on too many of Eddie’s “meetings” in his office and was sick of the guy making a habit of it. Could he have not slept with them in his car or at his house like a normal person?

He was getting tired of the new persona Eddie had taken on as he had gotten more popular. It was fine when he had gotten the motorcycle and when he flirted a little with the clients to make them more comfortable, but he drew the line at him acting like the complete dickhead he had become, using people for their bodies just to throw them away when he was done.

“I just want to-“

“You want to what?” Steve cut him off “Seduce her?”

“Maybe,” Eddie rounded the desk. “We’ll see where it goes.” Steve grabbed onto the back of his jacket and pulled him back, causing Eddie to let out a yelp.

“Not so fast,” Steve shook his head.

“I just want to say hi,” Eddie held his hands up in defense even though the both of them knew that he was lying.

“Saying ‘hi’ leads to flirting which leads to seducing which leads to ‘your place or mine’ which leads to you saying you’ll call and then you never do. I’ve been keeping a tally of all the people who have called here because you were an ass.” Steve held up the notebook he had been writing it and Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Five, ten, fifteen, twenty-“ Eddie counted of the tallies to himself, not even trying to hold back his smile.

“Forty-five, Eddie,” Steve cut him off with a glare.

“Forty-five,” Eddie repeated, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his rosy lips.

“And this is just with clients,” he sighed, throwing the book down “Look, you can fuck whoever you want as long as they’re not seeking business from us.”

“Steve-“

“No,” he pointed at his friend with the pencil he was holding. “If I find out that you did anything but greet her as the owner, I swear to god I will castrate you.” Eddie’s eyes widened at Steve’s threat but only for a second before his smirk took over again.

“But what if-“

“No, this isn’t a challenge. I mean it, if you even so much as bat your eyelashes at her, I’m going to make sure that you can never use your dick again.”

“Are you coming on to me?” Eddie batted his eyelashes. That had only happened once and they both just decided that they were better off as friends. “Damn, Stevie. I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Steve had felt that way about Eddie once upon a time, but not anymore. Especially not since Eddie started solely thinking with his dick.

“You’re disgusting,” Steve glared before turning back to the computer. “Now leave me alone.”

“Happy to.” Eddie rounded the desk and made a beeline to you. He had no intention of keeping Steve’s promise and seeing the look you gave him only made him want to flirt with you even more. He had to do what he could to get the sour look off of your face.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, you had heard his entire conversation with Steve, neither of them quite knowing what an “inside voice” was. It didn’t surprise you that Eddie would fuck anyone who was human, and it especially didn’t surprise you that most of them were clients. If you hadn’t already gone through the consultation, you would have walked right out of there.

Fat chance if he thought he was going to get with you, but you were going to have some fun with him first. You were going to knock him down a few pegs. It was what he deserved for having whoever he wanted just because he was famous in the tattoo industry.

“Hi,” he propped himself against the wall and you had to hold back a laugh at his flirting attempt. How could that have worked on anyone?

“Hi,” you nodded towards him then turned back to face the frames.

“I’m Eddie,” he put his hand out to shake and you reluctantly took it, not wanting to be rude to owner of the establishment no matter how much you wanted to tell him to fuck off.

“Y/n,” you replied and his smile got wider. You had to admit that it was really nice. You could see at least how that worked for him.

“Y/n,” he nodded, saying it slowly, focusing on each syllable as they fell from his lips. “That’s pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. And trust me, I’d remember someone as smokin’ as you.” That didn’t actually work on people, did it? That didn’t actually get him into people’s pants.

“If anyone’s smokin’ here, it’s you,” you winked and wondered how you could have submitted your name to the Academy to be nominated for an Oscar for your performance.

“So what brings you here, darlin’?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy. He almost looked adorable. Almost.

“I have an appointment with Gareth.” Of fucking course. Eddie took a vacation and now Gareth was getting all the pretty girls. Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair.

“Oh,” he nodded. “I can take you to him.”

“Okay, Edwin.” You walked ahead of him to head to wherever Gareth could have possibly been and Eddie took another opportunity to stare at your ass. The way your jeans clung to it. The way it moved when you walked. He needed to feel it, skin against skin. He just knew that it would have been soft. He desperately wanted to give it a little slap, but even he knew that wouldn’t have been appropriate. Even for him

“It’s Eddie,” he corrected and you didn’t bother to look back at him when you spoke.

“Sure, Eduardo.” He wasn’t used to women acting this way and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t like it. He actually thought it was kind of hot.

He was right behind you when you stopped abruptly at Gareth’s station. Eddie had been so busy staring that ran right into you and had to grab onto your shoulders to stop the both of you from falling to the floor.

He let out a chuckle but you just ignored him, keeping your attention on Gareth. His face lit up when he saw you and he couldn’t help but smile as well. You hadn’t forgotten your flirty consultation and the way he looked at you from across the desk. Like he had wanted to take you right there and you would have let him.

You had imagined running your hands through his curly hair, pressing your lips to his roughly, sticking your tongue into his mouth. Hearing his moans when you touched him in just the right spots.

Eddie looked between the two of you and he didn’t like what he saw. The way you were smiling at each other, the flirty glint in your eyes. Whatever was going on had to be nipped right in the bud. If he couldn’t have you, no could. Not even Gareth. Especially not Gareth.

“Hey, cutie,” you greeted, resting your hands on his table and Gareth just blushed. He wasn’t used to getting attention from people, at least not romantically. And when you had showed up and openly flirted with him, he could have sworn it was a joke. But seeing you then, he realized that you hadn’t been joking at all.

“Hey,” he responded, a small smile forming on his lips. “How are you?”

“I’m great. And you?”

“I’m fantastic. Especially now that you’re here.” You giggled at his words, causing his blush to get pinker. Eddie watched the two of you for a bit longer then looked around the room for a trash can he could throw up in.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” You leaned closer and Eddie quickly turned away. No way in hell he was subjecting himself to seeing the two of you kiss.

“Well, I’m ready when you are,” Gareth smiled and sat down in his chair, rolling it closer to the bench.

“I’m ready now,” you nodded, sitting on the bench and Eddie took that as a sign to actually do his tasks that he had been putting off for far too long.

———

“Gareth,” you gasped as you looked at your fresh ink in the mirror. It was a Sting from Lord of the rings and it was exactly what you wanted. He was somehow able to get it exactly how you imagined it. “This is fucking amazing.”

“Really? You like it?” He had a sheepish smile on his face that you could see perfectly in the reflection. He was just so cute. And sweet. The complete opposite of the other guys you had been with. The complete opposite of Eddie.

“I love it.” You turned around to face him and before you could stop yourself, you were throwing yourself into his arms. They were quick to wrap around your waist tightly. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiled, making no move to let go of you. “I’m glad it was what you wanted.”

“It’s perfect. Really.” Gareth had never gotten that kind of reaction from one of his clients. They usually just thanked him and paid before leaving.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, pulling away from him. “That was totally inappropriate.”

“No,” he assured you. “It’s okay. I…liked it.”

“Well, good.”

“C‘mon,” he nodded his head towards the front of the shop. “Let’s get your care instructions.”

You followed him to the front desk where Steve was still typing away on the computer. Eddie was beside him, going through some envelopes. He looked up at you and Gareth and didn’t miss your close proximity, your shoulders touching. He supposed that if you ended up with anyone, it should have been Gareth. He would have treated you right and wouldn’t have just wanted to fuck you like Eddie did.

Eddie didn’t do relationships. He just liked to get laid and have no other connection to the people. That was the only way he could do it. Thinking about being romantic with someone made him feel gross. It made him want to laugh. He only had enough love in his life for his few friends and Wayne.

You didn’t do relationships either, but you felt like if you played your cards right, you’d be able to start something with Gareth. He was sweet and he liked you and you didn’t get that weird feeling in your gut when you were around him. That feeling that always told you that the person was bad news. And it was always right. Maybe Gareth would end up being the right guy for you. Or maybe he wouldn’t, but you were willing to find out.

“Well, let me see!” Steve exclaimed and you turned around, stepping closer to the desk. He leaned over it to get a better look, a wide smile spreading over his face. “That’s sick…what is it?”

“C’mon, Steve. It’s from Lord of the Rings,” Eddie replied.

“That’s what it’s from?” Gareth asked, turning to you. “I thought it was just a dagger.”

“It’s Sting. It was an Elven short-sword made in Gondolin during the First Age,” you told them.

“Bilbo discovered it in the year TA2941 in a Troll-hoard, and used it during the Quest of Erebor,” Eddie finished, a smirk forming on his lips. He had met many women who like Lord of the Rings and had even done a few tattoos, but he liked the fact that you were so passionate about it.

“God, you guys are such fucking nerds,” Steve scoffed. “How do you know that from memory?”

“How do you not?” You and Eddie asked in unison, causing you both to laugh.

“Alright,” Steve turned to you. “Your total is going to be-“

“Actually, it’s on the house, right Stevie?” Gareth asked and Steve just let out a sigh.

“Sure, I uh, I guess it’s on the house.” With how many times Eddie had done the same thing, the company had surely lost a lot of money, but Steve supposed he could make an exception. Gareth had been shot down so many times that Steve thought he at least deserved to let one girl get her tattoo for free.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you shook your head vigorously. You always wanted to make sure that people were getting paid properly for their work. Especially tattoo artists because that kind of thing took a lot of time and patience. “I think Gareth should be compensated for his hard work.”

“I can be compensated in other ways,” Gareth winked at you and Eddie feigned throwing up while Steve smiled. He was just happy that the guy was finally getting some attention. He always seemed to fade into the background when Eddie was around. People always seemed to care about him and Steve felt bad for Gareth. That he was always stuck in his best friend’s shadow. He hated it for him.

“Sounds like a plan,” you winked back. “Maybe I could repay you tonight.” Gareth liked that idea. He liked that idea a lot.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Eddie put his hand over his mouth and disappeared behind the door that was behind him.

“I’d like that,” Gareth nodded, stepping towards you, the two of you completely ignoring Eddie. He was just jealous that he wasn’t on the receiving end of the flirting this time. He was always a sore loser even though he frequently tried to deny it. He loved Gareth. Like a brother, even. But he couldn’t help but feel jealous that the guy was getting your attention. He didn’t know why, but the fact that you didn’t seem to be interested in him only made him want to try harder. He wanted to prove himself that he could get you into bed.

You grabbed a blank piece of paper and pen from the desk and scribbled down your phone number and address before handing it to him. He took it from you and quickly took his cell phone out of his pocket, quickly typing in the numbers and saving it under a cutesy nickname.

“So you’ll come over after you get done here?”

“I definitely will,” he nodded.

“Great,” you smiled and Gareth could have sworn that he was feeling his knees giving out. You then leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, Emerson.”

After you were all set, you pulled Gareth into a lingering hug then exited the shop, the man watching you through the glass as you headed down the street. He had only had a few conversations with you and was already down bad. Why did he have to always fall so easily? He knew that you’d drop him for Eddie with one bat of his lashes so he didn’t even know why he was trying.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe you really did like him. Maybe this wasn’t all just an elaborate plan for you to get to Eddie like he had thought. He couldn’t even keep track of how many times that had happened to him and he was sick of it. What was wrong with him? Cleary something since he was never anyone’s first choice. But for once, he was yours. He was your first choice and he couldn’t have been more elated about it.

You got to your car and was shocked to find Eddie leaning against it. He was smoking a cigarette and you hated how you kind of found it hot. But only kind of. He was leaning against the driver’s seat door, preventing you from getting in it and he looked like he had no intention of leaving any time soon. He gave you his signature smile and you smiled back, not wanting to show just how much he was getting to you.

“So,” he spoke, blowing the smoke from his mouth and it wafted right into your face, causing you to cough. “You and Emerson, huh?” He used his cigarette to point to the building.

“Yes,” you nodded, waving the smoke away from your face. “But I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You crossed your arms over your chest, wondering why he cared so much. He could have anyone he wanted from what you had heard so you weren’t sure why he was so set on hitting on an almost taken woman.

“It’s my business because Gareth is my best friend and I’ll be damned if anyone hurts him.” He pushed off of the car and stood directly in front of you, attempting to look intimidating, but fell flat. You weren’t scared of anything, especially not Eddie Munson.

Eddie really didn’t care who Gareth spent his time with, especially not romantically, but you weren’t one of the soft, innocent looking girls that the guy usually went for. Eddie just wanted to make sure that you were good for him. And maybe the way of seeing whether or not that was true was sleeping with you, but that was going to take a lot more effort than usual. But Eddie always liked a challenge.

Usually, showing a woman just what she was missing after the initial shut down wasn’t a problem. He turned on the charm and was as nice as possible until he got what he wanted. He didn’t know why you wouldn’t just give in. He was sure that he could make you feel much more than Gareth ever could and he’d do it so much better. Gareth was less experienced than him and was seriously lacking in flirting skills so stealing you away would have been a breeze. It wouldn’t be long before you were racing into his arms, telling him that you had been wrong all along. And he couldn’t wait.

“If anyone’s hurting Gareth, it’s you,” you crossed your arms over your chest. Those words stung Eddie more than they should have, but he wasn’t going to show it. “You just can’t stand the fact that someone prefers him over you. Gareth is sweet and caring and guess what? He’s also much more of a man than you will ever be. So fuck off and go find someone else to screw with because it sure as hell won’t be me.” You pushed him out of the way and got into your car before pulling out of your parking space and heading down the road.

Eddie watched in shock as you drove away. No one had even spoken to him like that and he’d have been lying if he said that if didn’t make his dick hard. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t always been a pig. Once upon a time, he was actually a nice guy, but then he got just a sliver of fame in the tattoo industry and thought he could treat everyone any way he wanted. He had quickly become the kind of guy that he had usually despised and didn’t even care that his friends were getting tired of him.

It was like an addiction. He had slept with one person and then another and then another and it was like he couldn’t stop. Now he couldn’t go a couple weeks without having someone between his sheets. It was getting to the point that he didn’t even really enjoy it, but he was so desperate for attention that he’d take home anyone that he could just so he wouldn’t have to sleep by himself and be alone with his thoughts.

Eddie hung his head and reluctantly headed back inside. Gareth was still at the front desk and Eddie gave him a glare before heading to his office for some much needed alone time. He couldn’t let Gareth know that he had gotten to him. That would have just been embarrassing. Eddie thought that he was better than him in every way and didn’t like that he had gotten the girl for once. He had lost and hated the way the rejection felt. It was like a stab to the heart and he finally knew how his best friend had felt watching him leave with all of those different people. It was torture, but that still didn’t mean that he was just going to let him have you. He still had a point to prove, no matter what it took.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #tattoo artist!eddie #tattoo artist!eddie x reader #tattoo artist!eddie x tatoo artist!reader

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 24 days

Note

please write some conrad fics, the tag has been DRY

Is there a Aaron Dessner that has produced that is not heartbreaking? The Great war, Tolerate it, Right where you left me, You’re losing me, Would’ve could’ve should’ve. I have nothing against Jack, but when Aaron is involved, things…hit different.

The acronym switching from love of my life to loss of my life *UGLY CRYING*

Warnings: heartbreak

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When coming to Cousins for Belly and Jeremiah’s wedding, you knew it would be impossible to go through a whole weekend of wedding festivities without speaking to Conrad. You tried to avoid him, but he was always right there. In the kitchen talking with Laurel. In the living room with Jeremiah and Belly. In the backyard with Steven helping set up the chairs and tables under Taylor’s instructions.

At least he didn’t come to the wedding with a girl. It would have hurt too much.

‘’I can’t believe our Belly is getting married,’’ you said as you all sat in the living room for the smallest bachelorette party.

There was no male stripper dancing or crazy alcohol consumption like you see in movies. Just matching pajamas, a plastic ‘bride’ crown Anika got online, and sparkling mocktails. Laurel felt out of place among the younger girls, but it was her daughter’s bachelorette. She couldn’t not be there.

Taylor took a cupcake from the table, all decorated to perfection by you. ‘’I would have never guessed she would be the first of us to marry. We all thought it would be you and Con—’’ She stopped herself when she saw Belly looking at you, realizing that if she finished her sentence it would hurt you.

A silence fell and a lump settled in your throat. You brought your drink to your lips, wishing there was alcohol in it. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol is not the solution, but it’s good at temporarily numbing the pain.

I thought that too.

Your parents bought their holiday house in Cousins where you were ten and you had known the Fishers and the Conklins since. Susannah had invited you over to play with her kids — to make friends. Although you were closer to Jeremiah and Belly in age, it was Conrad who got along with you the best. He taught you how to play Uno, came to get you when you swam too far at the beach and helped you clean your dress when stained it eating a blue popsicle. He was always nice to you. Patient and caring. As you got older, he was only looking at you. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. He’s just always been yours.

Until he wasn’t.

You didn’t want to sour the ambiance or steal the attention from the bride-to-be, so you got up and excused yourself to the bathroom. You closed the door, feeling the quiet sanctuary of solitude envelop you. Memories of you and Conrad flooded your mind, each more painful than its predecessor. Nothing would ever compare to the pain this breakup felt.

Leaning against the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears welling up and blurring your vision. You tried to make them go away by fanning your eyes, but they overflowed, carrying with them the weight of five years of heartache.

How could it still hurt after all this time?

With trembling hands, you reached for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. ‘’Please, stop.’’

In the morning, you woke up on a blow-up mattress in Belly’s room. Your eyes were sensitive from crying and red. You tried to cover it with eye-drops and makeup, but when you came down for breakfast and Belly pulled you in a tight hug, you knew you didn’t do a great job.

Jeremiah eyed the two of you, raising an eyebrow and silently asking what was up, but Belly shook her head.

The rest of the day went without any downpour of tears. A part of the afternoon was spent tanning under the sun and drinking lemonades, relishing in the last moments of tranquility before the evening's rehearsal dinner. The place was going to get filled with family members and other guests soon and it’ll get very crowded.

Steven joined you in Belly’s bedroom as you were getting ready for dinner, still wet from being at the beach with the boys. He tried to get a kiss from Taylor, but she pushed him off as he was dripping water all over her makeup bag. Jeremiah laughed in the doorway, blowing a kiss to Belly before parting to his own bedroom to change.

Although you weren’t the only single person in the room, you never felt more alone.

At the dinner, you sat listening to the speeches about Belly and Jeremiah’s love. Without surprise, Steve made sure to embarrass the couple and Laurel was unable to hold back her tears when her turn came. Childhood stories and teenage anecdotes about their early moments of relationship made the guests laugh and smile.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Adam inadvertently attributed a story to Belly and Jeremiah, when in fact it was about you and Conrad. The frown on Jeremiah’s forehead as his father continued to speak matched Belly, both of them not knowing what he was talking about.

‘’Eh, Dad, Belly didn’t come to my prom…’’ Jeremiah whispered to his father. ‘’I went to hers and she was wearing a purple dress, not green.’’

Adam paused, his realization dawning slowly. ‘’Oh. You’re right. That was Conrad. I caught him and his girl making out outside the house when they came back. Susannah was out of her mind for allowing her to sleep over…’’

The revelation hung in the air, accompanied by an uncomfortable silence. Your grip on the glass of wine tightened involuntarily, the pressure causing it to shatter in your hand. Shards of glass cut into your skin as crimson droplets mixed with the spilled wine.

Beside you, Taylor gasped in concern, her eyes widening at the sight. ‘’Oh my god, are you—’’

Ignoring the sting of pain and Taylor’s voice, you excused yourself and hurried inside to tend to your injury. You grabbed some paper towels and pressed them over your cuts.

Unbeknownst to you, Conrad followed after you. As you stood there, watching the white soak and turn red, you felt his presence behind you. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ His touch was gentle as he took your hand and removed the soiled paper towels, placing them on the counter. ‘’Never apply pressure to an injury that’s not clean of debris. You’ll push them further in,’’ he advised, the doctor in him speaking. ‘’Let me see.’’

‘’I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’’ you insisted, attempting to brush off his concern. ‘’Go back to everyone else, it’s almost time for the best man’s speech.’’

But Conrad didn’t budge. ‘’Sit here. I need to check if there’s glass in it.’’ he urged, his tone firm yet caring.

Knowing there was no way out of this, you sat on one of the kitchen stools and let Conrad check your injury. He turned on the kitchen tap and you hissed as the water hit your freshly cut skin, the cool liquid soothing the sharp ache.

You sat there as Conrad tended to your wound in silence, his fingers gentle as he inspected your hand for any embedded glass fragments. You couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch and the upgraded woodsy cologne, their familiarity causing your heart to flutter despite the pain.

His focus was entirely on your hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded you of that one time you fell from your bike and he patched up your knee and elbow. Once he made sure there was no glass in it, he went to fetch an antiseptic and gauze from the bathroom.

As he was wrapping it up, you thanked him. A simple ‘thanks’.

‘’Be careful drinking wine, next time.’’ Conrad meant it as a light teasing, but you weren’t in a mood to laugh.

‘’Don’t say anything. Please,’’ you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. ‘’It hurts seeing you — it really hurts. So much that I didn’t want to come to the wedding, but I couldn’t miss Belly’s big day. I couldn’t do that to her. What type of friend would I be?’’ The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you, the truth of them echoing in the silence of the room. ‘’But being here, watching her and Jeremiah getting married is killing me because that should have been us,’’ you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’This house is where we met; every corner holds tons of memories of us and it’s haunting me, torturing me since I got here.’’

‘’I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry—’’

‘’You’re sorry? No sorry will be enough,’’ you said. ‘’You told me I'm the love of your life about a million times. You said you would never leave. But you did. I loved you so much— You were it for me, Conrad. It was always you. But now you’re the loss of my life.’’

He said your name, but once again, you didn’t let him speak.

You got down from the stool, the stinging pain in your hand still present. ‘’I should get back outside. Hopefully Laurel knows a way to get blood out of my dress.’’

—

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#conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

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cherienymphe · 9 months

Text

Basic Training XV (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

The rhythmic sound of Peter’s heartbeat beneath your ear was the only thing keeping you grounded. It was the middle of the night, and he was sound asleep…and you were not. You hadn’t slept well in days, not since Nat had been caught. The thought of the redhead all alone down in the basement was one that almost brought you to tears on more than one occasion, and while it was something that could’ve easily been written off as concern, you didn’t want Peter to worry.

Ever since she’d been caught, you constantly fretted over if you did the right thing or not. Would Nat’s punishment have been less severe if you’d stopped her and spun some tale like Margaret had mentioned? You supposed that it didn’t matter because what was done was done, but you couldn’t help but think about could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve.

Peter shifted some beneath you, and you lifted your head a tad, gazing at him.

It was a full moon, and Peter knew how much you liked the moon, how much you enjoyed the light of it bleeding into the room at night. You stared at him as he slept, tracing his features with your eyes and wondering if you were crazier than you thought you were. You blinked, eyes burning.

It was also days since you accepted that you couldn’t live without Peter.

It was a heartbreaking realization for a myriad of reasons. It was one thing to lack the strength to fight back so fiercely or even try to reach for your freedom, but it was another entirely to become so dependent on the man who’d ruined your life. God, if only your mom could see you, now, she’d be so disappointed. Or perhaps heartbroken.

You yourself were heartbroken.

This was the man who had a hand in the death of your friends, a hand in your mother’s grief, and yet here you were…staring up at him…

Almost like you loved him.

You looked back towards the window at that thought with a grimace, something uneasy settling in your gut at that word. It was what Peter wanted, wasn’t it? For you to love him? After all, not only would that make him happy, but in turn…you too. If everyone thought you loved him—Steve most of all—then your life would be easier. The blond would trust you, would be less critical and harsh on you.

You sat up with a shaky exhale, staring at your hands as they settled in your lap.

It seemed inevitable anyway, that you would love Peter one day, but the thought made you want to bury yourself alive. It would be the biggest betrayal and not just to your friends and mom, but most of all yourself. You didn’t deserve to be treated this way—kidnapped and basically enslaved and at the whim of some man with a disturbing upbringing. You deserved better than that, and you knew it, but deep down you knew that you wouldn’t be getting better than that.

You stared at your fingers with a frown.

…and as long as Peter was happy…he didn’t treat you badly.

You remembered feeling so angry and sad that day Jane told you that Peter was one of the good ones. It was such a preposterous stance to you, and you had pitied her then for even thinking such a thought, that any of them could be ‘good’. Now, though…now there were times you felt so grateful to have Peter. Especially when in comparison to the other husbands and the methods they liked to use to keep their wives in line.

It was a feeling you’d been fighting for some time, but you were happy to have Peter.

Your face felt colder all of a sudden, and you reached up, realizing that you’d started to cry just as you felt a light touch on your waist. The suddenness of it made you jump, and you looked over your shoulder just as Peter shifted.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” he mumbled, fatigue coating his own voice.

You shrugged, forgetting that he probably couldn’t see the action so well in the dark, when he decided to sit up too. It wasn’t long before light flooded the room, and you didn’t have time to turn your face away. The concern on his own was palpable, and you let him reach for you.

“What’s wrong?” he wondered, scooting closer. “Did you have another nightmare?”

You shook your head, unable to quite voice your internal dilemma. Peter would just tell you it was okay, and that it was a good thing to love him, but he wouldn’t understand—couldn’t understand. His hands on your arms were a comfort to you though, and you leaned into him.

“You know you’re scaring me, right?” he lightly joked. “You have to tell me what’s wrong, pretty girl…or else I can’t fix it.”

His lips grazed your hair as you leaned your head on his shoulder, just staring at the sheets. Again, you couldn’t speak, just shrugging and moving to wrap your arm around his waist. You just wanted to hold him and let him hold you for the time being. At least, that was what you thought, but as you closed your eyes and inhaled the scent of Peter, you realized you just wanted to be as close to him as possible.

Peter said nothing when you lifted your head, just looking at you in question while you looked back at him. You ran your eyes over his face, your gaze lingering on his pink lips. Peter was still as you moved closer, hesitant and a little unsure. You were thankful for that, positive that if he moved an inch, you would lose your nerve.

When your lips met his, it was light, barely a kiss, but you remained there just focusing on the feel of his lips touching yours. When you kissed him again, it was firmer, and you placed your hands on his shoulders. You deeply inhaled, gasping when his own hands curled into your hips. Peter softly spoke your name into your mouth, and you fully leaned into him.

Peter was content to fall back, letting you rest on top of him while he kissed you back.

Once you started, you couldn’t stop, tasting him and lying on top of him. Peter’s fingers were twisting into your nightgown, some white short piece of fabric he’d brought home one day after work. Your body felt fueled by something stronger than you, desperate to feel him against you and in you. You truly didn’t know why, letting your body do what it wanted, trailing kisses along his neck while his hand came up to rest on your head.

He whispered your name again, but you didn’t want to talk.

Not now, anyway.

When Peter’s hands slid up your frame, sliding the white fabric with it, you didn’t protest. You shuddered when your bare chest brushed his own, but Peter didn’t do much more. He was happy to keep kissing you, basking in the feel of resting under your weight. Every brush of his fingers made you shudder, and you pulled your face away to catch your breath.

You slowly rolled off of him, keeping your eyes on his as you did. Your fingers twisted with his own, and Peter held your gaze while you pulled him towards you. His chest was heaving, and his normally brown eyes appeared almost black to you in the low lighting. His pants were pulled away as he settled himself over you, and you reached up to touch his face.

If Peter was shocked by your reciprocation, he didn’t show it, only content to let you touch him. When you kissed him again, your hands grazed over his shoulders and back, fingers gently gliding along his skin. Peter deepened the kiss when you wrapped your legs around his waist, one hand kneading into your side while the other rested on the side of your neck.

When he finally did find his way into you, you gasped.

You just wouldn’t ever get used to the feel of him pushing into you, you were convinced. You kept your hands on his face as Peter thrust into you, slow and as if he wanted to savor the feel. Underneath Peter, it was the only time you could just exist free of all the troubling thoughts that plagued your mind. However, tonight was different.

You couldn’t stop thinking.

You clung to Peter in the hopes that maybe the feel of his body on top of yours and his cock in you would distract you from all of your thoughts, wipe your mind clean, but they were too overpowering. A shudder traveled through you when he placed kisses along your jaw, and you threaded your fingers through his hair. You just wanted him close, so close, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

Your chest was heavy, and your eyes burned, and you realized that you were going to cry again. You held Peter’s head to your neck, hoping to keep him from looking, but you reached up to quickly wipe your face when he lifted his head. He paused, and it was hard to name the look in his eyes.

“What… Y/N, what’s wrong?” he breathed, wiping your face.

You licked your lip, staring past him and trying to keep from crying. You felt so overwhelmed, and you just didn’t know why. You felt scared and panicked, and you couldn’t stop shaking. When Peter started to pull away, you were quick to clutch his arms, keeping him against you.

“You’re scaring me,” he quietly repeated. “Talk to me, pretty girl, tell me what’s wrong.”

You realized then as Peter tried to pull away.

You didn’t want him to. You didn’t want him to ever.

“Will you ever stop loving me?”

It was clear he hadn’t expected that, and you slowly met his gaze again. You pulled your lip between your teeth as you searched his eyes, and Peter blinked. A frown formed between his dark brows, and he stared down at you like you were crazy.

“You’re asking me this now…?”

A slight smile ghosted along his lips, and it was clear he thought this was some elaborate joke until more tears fell. His smile fell as you squeezed your eyes shut, and he wiped your face again. He softly said your name, and you tried to stop crying, but you couldn’t.

“Hey…hey, look at me,” he whispered, urging you to open your eyes.

When you finally did, his expression was soft, dark eyes searching yours and drinking you in.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he finally answered.

Your face crumbled again, and you blinked, looking towards the ceiling before meeting his eye again.

“Even if I do something bad? You won’t…you won’t hate me…?”

Peter blinked at you, his frown deepening and confusion growing.

“I could never hate you,” he assured you.

You let him go, pressing your hands to your face.

“Hey, hey, what-what is going on? What’s wrong?”

He tried to pull your hands away, and when he did, you immediately circled your arms around his neck, burying your face there. Peter let you cry, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back. The feel just made you cry more, and Peter shushed you. His lips grazed your ear.

“I would never stop loving you,” he whispered, reaching up and loosening your hold as he leaned back. “It doesn’t matter what you could ever do.”

You pressed your lips together, blinking at him.

“Even if I do something really, really bad?”

Peter just chuckled at you before leaning in to kiss you. It sounded like he thought your concerns were so silly, and he brushed his nose against yours.

“Look at me,” he gently told you. “It doesn’t matter what you do, I’ll never stop loving you.”

You sniffed.

“I may get really mad,” he softly said, being truthful. “…but I’ll never not love you.”

You touched his cheek, lips trembling.

“You promise?” you choked out.

Petr sighed at you, looking over your face before pecking your nose.

“I promise.”

You pressed your lips together, playing with a dark strand of his hair.

“I’ll always love you,” he slowly whispered, moving his hips again. “Don’t ever doubt that. No matter what you do.”

Peter kissed you again, finishing what you started.

Peter was asleep…and you were not.

That was becoming common as of late, and while you hated it, your mind just wouldn’t settle. Nat had been down in that basement for two weeks, now, and you’d overheard Jane telling Christine something the other day. Something about Bucky just not knowing what to do with her. It was something that challenged your mind, how he could be so cruel to the woman he claimed to love and in the same breath, feel betrayed by her simply…wanting freedom.

You didn’t understand it.

Every time you saw Bucky, you could see the toll it was taking on him. After all, Nat had escaped. She’d left and had gotten pretty far, and you knew that beneath all the hurt and anger, Bucky had been scared. He was probably still scared, and he probably wasn’t the only one. Nat had come dangerously close to blowing this whole household up, and who was to say she wouldn’t do it again?

Not to mention the pressure he was probably under from Steve.

Nat was Bucky’s wife, but her actions had affected the entire household. You wondered if Peter had a say in her punishment too, and the thought left a sour taste in your mouth. You looked over your shoulder at him where he slept, biting your lip and sliding out of bed.

You hadn’t seen Nat in weeks, and on top of it being unfamiliar to you, now, you also couldn’t go about your life all the while knowing she was down there. It was all you thought about when you cooked and cleaned. Even during dinner, there was a huge elephant in the room in the glaringly obvious empty chair beside Bucky. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at it sometimes, a pang going through your chest at the sight of it.

All you thought about these days was Nat, especially one of the last conversations with her. Whether or not Nat confirmed she was pregnant was something you didn’t know, but it was something you worried about regularly. When Bucky did finally decide on a punishment, there was no telling what it would be, and if Nat was pregnant…

Even now, the lack of nourishment she was getting down in the basement wasn’t good for her, but doubly so if she was indeed pregnant as she’d suspected. It was that thought that drove you down the stairs, walking on light footsteps as you maneuvered your way through the house. You knew it like the back of your hand by now.

Truthfully, you didn’t know how you’d get into the basement. There were several locks on the door, one of which required a key, and you knew it was kept somewhere close to the door. You were only concerned with making the sandwich though, just thinking about Nat going without food for days on end. Yes, you were concerned for her, but you also wondered if there was some guilt eating at you.

Again, you wondered if you’d stopped her, would she even be down there?

You just wanted to help in some way, and you unsurely approached the door. You stared at it in the dark, thinking to yourself if this was something you’d get in trouble for. You couldn’t imagine why, in truth, but there were plenty of things to get in trouble for in this house. You only wanted to check on her, make sure she was well…feed her.

“Nat,” you gently called.

Only silence met you, and you remembered the steep climb from the bottom of the stairs to the door. It was possible she couldn’t even hear you. Either that or asleep, and you had hoped you could ask her where the key was, she’d know after all, but you had resigned yourself to finding it yourself when the hallway light was turned on.

You flinched, and fearing the worst, you were shocked to come face to face with Bucky instead.

He stood in the entrance where the kitchen and hallway connected, and there wasn’t much use in denying what you were doing. It was obvious, after all with the plated sandwich in hand as you stood in front of the basement door. You weren’t sure what to say, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of the brunette.

He didn’t look happy to see you, but then again, like Steve, he didn’t tend to look ecstatic around you. The feeling was mutual, you supposed, the memory of him shooting Wanda in cold blood fresh in your mind as if it had happened yesterday. Shockingly, you were resolved to whatever punishment awaited you for simply trying to bring Nat some food.

“I come down here every night,” he finally said, heaving a deep sigh. “Just to…stand here, sit here…”

It wasn’t what you expected him to say, and you blinked.

“I miss her too, you know.”

Again, you didn’t know what to say, especially since he put her down there.

“…but she’s down there for a reason, Y/N.”

You looked away, gripping the plate in your hand.

“I…I just wanted to make sure she’s alright,” you finally told him.

Bucky exhaled through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you.

“I didn’t realize you two had gotten so…close before her grand escape.”

The way he said it, something about his tone didn’t sit right with you, and you shook your head.

“Not that close,” you hurried to say. “I just… I just worry about her a lot.”

Bucky eyed you for too long to be comfortable, and you squirmed under his blue gaze. He slowly made his way towards you, and you shrank beneath his stare. You were unsurprised when he took the plate from you, eyeing you before eyeing it.

“She’s being punished…and while I appreciate the sentiment for my wife, this,” he lifted the plate. “Defeats the purpose, don’t ya think?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that, and Bucky suddenly smirked.

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’d be in if Steve caught you down here?” he suddenly wondered, and you looked down at the mention of the blond. “Hell…I imagine Peter himself wouldn’t be happy if he knew.”

Again, you thought that you were prepared for whatever punishment that was to come for simply wanting to feed Nat. Something like that shouldn’t warrant a punishment, anyway, but you were still surprised with Bucky’s next words.

“You should go back upstairs, Y/N,” he told you, making your eyes meet his again.

Like before, you thought that Bucky looked sad, and you didn’t understand it. Not one bit.

“Believe me, I understand, I do…but she has to learn some kind of way,” he continued, making you swallow. “…and I will be telling Peter.”

Your shoulders dropped at that, and the other man chuckled to himself.

“I doubt he’ll do much, anyway, so no need to panic,” a smirk danced along his lips. “His methods for you are…soft like that.”

The way he said the word didn’t make them sound soft, at all, and your frown deepened. Bucky suddenly sighed, looking towards the basement door. You took that as a sign to go, and you walked past him.

“Hurry on to bed,” Bucky’s words traveled to you from over his shoulder. “Before Peter wakes up and can’t find his ‘pretty girl’.”

The term of endearment was said mockingly, and you pressed your lips together as you climbed the stairs.

“You know better.”

You looked down at your toes, unable to keep eye contact under Peter’s disapproving stare.

“I know,” you whispered back.

You heard him heave a sigh, and suddenly Peter was in your line of vision, kneeling before you. He looked up at you with a small frown, lips pressed together.

“I know she’s your friend,” he said, taking your hands into his. “…but she’s down there for a reason.”

That conversation with Nat was still on your mind.

“I know that,” you replied, resigned. “I just know she’s not being fed as she should and…”

You trailed off, shaking your head.

“…and that’s part of it,” Peter reminded you.

“I know, but…”

Your words died on your tongue, and you slid back onto the bed, pulling your legs underneath you. You just kept thinking about what awaited Nat…and the possible child she was carrying. It was a given that if Bucky knew or even thought she was pregnant, it would change everything. He wouldn’t want her down in the basement…

“What is Bucky going to do to her?” you finally asked Peter.

When you looked at him, he moved to sit down beside you.

“He hasn’t decided yet. Truthfully, he can’t even think about that, right now,” Peter replied. “…and don’t try to change the subject.”

Peter threw you another stern look, and you bit your lip.

“I’m…not. Not really,” you whispered, and Peter frowned. “Peter…”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, hesitantly holding his gaze.

“If Nat was pregnant, would Bucky keep her down there…?”

His frown deepened, and he looked at you strangely.

“Of course, not,” he said it as if it were obvious, almost alarmed at your question. “Why are you asking me that…?”

His gaze was inquiring, and you hurriedly stood, turning away. He softly called your name, and you pulled your lip between your teeth.

“Peter…if I tell you something…are you going to tell Bucky I told you?”

When you glanced at him again, he was standing.

“Y/N…”

He almost said your name like a warning, and you suddenly regretted even opening your mouth. Peter could probably see the sentiment on your face, and he hurried towards you.

“Is Nat pregnant?” he demanded, taking your arm.

You opened and closed your mouth, glancing down. You heard Peter sigh, loosening his hold on your arm and rubbing his hand up and down it.

“I won’t tell Bucky you told me,” he whispered. “I promise, but…you need to tell me. Is she pregnant?”

“I…I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “Before she left, she…she told me that she thought she was.”

When you met Peter’s eye, he was tilting his head to the side, a deep frown between his brows.

“What?”

It came out curt, barely repressed shock there. You hurried to quell whatever negative emotion was threatening to bubble up.

“She didn’t know for sure,” you rushed out. “She just said she thought she was. I don’t know if she ever confirmed it, and then…then she was gone.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

There were accusations in his tone and eyes.

“…because! She…she didn’t even know for sure, and Bucky should be the one to know first. I assumed she would’ve told him,” you defended yourself, your words not completely untrue. “…but when he put her down there, that’s when I realized that she hadn’t. He would never put her down there if he thought she was pregnant, right?”

You watched Peter exhale, running his hand through his dark hair as he stared at you.

“No…he wouldn’t,” he reassured you, nostrils flaring. “This is serious, Y/N.”

You shuddered at the anger in his voice.

“I know,” you whispered.

“…and you didn’t say anything. Do you realize the damage that could already be done if she is or—God forbid—was pregnant?”

“I know,” you said, much, much quieter this time. “I’m sorry. She didn’t even know for sure, and I didn’t… It wasn’t my place to tell him that. I thought it was something that should be shared between them.”

You hesitantly looked at Peter again, watching him run his hands down his face.

“I will talk to Bucky,” he eventually told you, voice even as he eyed you.

The look in there made your heart sink, and you found yourself wondering what you just sacrificed to make this easier on Nat.

“You should’ve said something…” he continued when you nodded. “We need to know anything important that involves you guys.”

You nodded again, and Peter took your face into his hands. He stared into your eyes, thumbs brushing along your cheeks as he regarded you.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me? Any other important detail I need to know?”

The sight of Nat looking into your eyes that night was at the forefront of your mind, and still, you shook your head.

“No,” you quietly said. “Just that.”

Peter let out a breath, nodding before leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, just breathing you in.

“No more secrets. Do you understand?”

You started to nod when he made a noise of disapproval.

“Do you understand…?”

He pulled back, meeting your gaze. You reached up, wrapping your hands around his wrists.

“Yes, Peter.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the lie.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #dark peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

weight too heavy to hold alone

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: joel’s life in jackson is much more complicated than he thought it would be

▹— a/n: HEY. im not back just yet but thought i’d drop in to give yall this idk!! just something ive been working on between revision yk. hope you enjoy!

▹— warnings: angst, references to death of a child, references to past trauma (very brief, very vague reference, barely there), comparisons to dead daughter (but IS written as gender neutral i think, just behaviour wise), feeling unwanted and unloved

▹— tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours

MASTERLIST

howl’s song recs

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was meant to be a temporary thing, that was what Tommy had told Joel. It was the whole reason he had agreed, the whole reason he had relented to having you in his new home, sharing a room with Ellie just down the hall from his own.

Joel should’ve known, really. His and his brother’s versions of temporary were incredibly different, much like night and day, water and oil, hot and cold. Where Joel’s idea of temporary was a few days, at most, Tommy’s was, apparently, a couple of months. But what could he do? You were already here, already settled in on your side of Ellie’s room, with a mattress upon the floor and the bag filled with your things set beside it.

The first few days, Joel had been so on edge he couldn’t sleep, waiting for the moment Ellie made a peep, made the slightest inclination of being uncomfortable in your presence. He was half waiting for you to full-blown attack the two of them, after all, it wouldn’t have been the first time such things had happened to him and Ellie.

But you never did.

Your presence eventually became so… quiet that it was unnoticeable. You would leave the house before Joel and Ellie even thought about waking up, and would only return when they were either busy eating dinner, or already fast asleep in bed. It seemed like you did your absolute best to avoid the two of them.

It was only when he jumped up from his dozing, hearing the faint murmur of Ellie’s voice down the hall, that he clocked on to your presence again. Perhaps it was wrong, morally, for Joel to have crept down the hallway, shiv clutched in an untrusting hand, but who could’ve blamed him? He had done everything in his power to protect Ellie for a long time, by then. And he’d agree that you were young, that he was too harsh, but he’d already lost a daughter once. He wasn’t keen to go through that again.

The shared laughter was what stopped his hand from reaching towards the doorknob. It was quiet, and suddenly Joel was back in his thirties, listening to Sarah and her friends snicker and whisper in her bedroom, the door slightly ajar just to appease him. It had been nearing midnight, back then, Sarah’s birthday coming to a close, and it had also been the first time he had allowed her to have girls and boys over.

He blinked, and came back to the reality of where he was, of what he was holding, of who was on the other side of the door. Joel had only listened for a moment longer, another shared giggle making the tension slide from his shoulders, and it wasn’t long before he was back in his own room, door ajar, shoving the shiv underneath flannels in a shoddy chest of drawers.

Joel could remember that it wasn’t too long after that night that you had joined him and Ellie for dinner, for the very first time. It had been an awkward affair, and it reminded him of the first few times he and Ellie had shared a proper meal together in their new home. You were vaguely uncomfortable the entire time, shooting Ellie looks that you didn’t know he had noticed. Her only response was a snicker, though Joel would’ve guessed from the thunk underneath the table that you had placed a well-aimed kick against her shin.

Still, after dinner, you spoke to him for one of the first times. There had been the introduction when Tommy had brought you over, of course, but this was willing on your end. “Thank you,” You had told him, though didn’t make eye contact. “For dinner, and well, yeah.”

He had nodded at you, a tense smile on his lips, but it was a friendly gesture. Or, as friendly of a gesture as Joel could muster. He remembers the way you had scurried up the stairs almost immediately after, having stuck around only to help clean up and give your thanks.

You started joining them for dinner more after that, though Joel had the suspicion that the first half a dozen times were at Ellie’s command. But with time, and some patience, you warmed up to him just as you had to Ellie. You spoke more, asked more questions, even cracked a few jokes that he was sure you had gotten from one of Ellie’s books. It surprised him how… relieved he was to see the break in your awkwardness.

It had been the first time Joel had seen you with Tommy outside of when he had dropped you at his and Ellie’s that he realised you had a lot more warming up to do than he had thought. There you were, walking at Tommy’s side, chatting animatedly, hands flying around in gestures, face lit up like Joel had never seen before, and all the while Tommy only shook his head, fond smile on his face. There was a certain warmth on Tommy’s face that Joel had only seen when his little brother had been looking at his newborn child, and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had dropped you off at Joel’s if he felt that way? If he saw you as his own?

He tried to ask him those very questions more than once, but each time he found himself somewhat afraid of the answer he’d receive. Joel knew his little brother had always looked up to him, after all, that tends to happen when you practically raise the kid, but after everything… Joel found that he didn’t think he could live up to Tommy’s expectations of him any longer. Maybe, even if Joel would never admit it out loud, he didn’t want to see Tommy realise he couldn’t live up to the idealised version of himself his little brother saw him as.

It was already hard enough with having Ellie — the weight of everything he had lied to her about was tangible, an iron fence putting distance between the two of them. He tried to ignore it. Ellie did, too, but the truth was that she had lost some amount of trust in him. He saw it in the crease of her brows when they spoke, the slant of her lips when he left for patrol, hell — even in the way her gaze changed when she looked at him. It was like she saw somebody she didn’t quite recognise.

Joel felt like he was fighting a losing battle. He’d steel himself before dinners, he’d harden his features before coming home from patrols, he’d even lock himself in his little studio. And yet each time he saw you, there was an unmistakeable softness brought to his features, reminiscent of how it felt to look at Ellie. Each time you would come to him for help, he’d remind himself that he couldn’t be the person that everybody needed him to be. He’d remind himself that he would never — could never — be the person you so clearly wanted him to be.

Because it was more than obvious. Joel wasn’t blind, even if his sight wasn’t what it used to be. He could see it in the way you looked to him for help, in the way you’d heed his advice like you never doubted he could be wrong about something. It was clear in the way you looked at him, like he had the ability to carve the world into whatever he desired, like he possessed a strength you didn’t. You looked at him as if he could save you, and the truth was that Joel couldn’t even save himself.

He was an old man, a foolish man. Joel drowned in guilt he had brought upon himself, liquid a kind of heaviness that settled into his aged lungs. When he looked at you, he saw Sarah. He saw the resemblance in the way the both of you looked out for him — where Sarah had often cooked breakfast, you scraped together some form of dinner when he was on a late patrol, where Sarah had forced vitamin-rich drinks into his hand, you placed painkillers — that must’ve cost a fortune to trade for — on the kitchen counter when he hurt his knee on a patrol. He saw it in the way you looked up to him, the way you believed in him, and it’s like a mirror image of the night his life went to ruin. A reflection of his daughter dying in his arms each time you looked to him for safety.

What could he provide? What could Joel provide that Tommy couldn’t? Hell — that anybody couldn’t? Perhaps, he wondered, the guarantee of disappointment.

“So,” Tommy started one night, sat by his side at the small bar in town, eyebrows raised as he held a glass of twenty-two year old bourbon. “How’s life with the kid? Handlin’ two kids?”

Joel vividly remembers his response, despite his lowered tolerance for alcohol and the multitude of glasses he’d had that night. “You ever gonna get that kid a new place? Not my responsibility to look after your goddamn strays, y’know.” His voice had been gruff, harsh. He thinks, looking back on it, that it digs the pit of regret in his stomach deeper.

“They givin’ you trouble, or something?” Tommy had asked, all furrowed eyebrows then, an expression of something close to disbelief on his face. “Been a good kid, as long as I’ve known ‘em.”

“They’re a good kid, alright, just not my kid.” Joel had replied, scornfully. It was a low blow, he knew now, but he could remember the pounding in his chest, blood rushing through his ears, when he heard you yell out one night. It had been a bad dream, not that you’d admit to it, but Joel was familiar. He could’ve sworn his heart was going to stop that night, the way adrenaline rushed through him, the way he had leaped from his bed as if expecting to have to defend you and Ellie from an onslaught of attackers.

Tommy scoffed in response, and he had averted his eyes, looking away from his older brother as he took a sip of the alcohol that was warming his veins. “Y’know what? I’ll get ‘em a new place, and when it breaks their goddamn heart, I’ll let ‘em know the reason why you wanted them out. Not my kid.” Tommy had shaken his head, and had bid him goodnight soon after. Joel remembers drowning the sting the conversation left him with using decades-old booze.

Now, Joel can pretty confidently say that Tommy hadn’t been looking to get you a new place until that conversation. It wasn’t more than a few weeks after that that you came home with a frown marred across your face, returning much later from canteen-duty than usual. He had been walking to the hall to grab his boots when you had gotten in.

Your expression had only deepened further as you practically stomped into the house, kicking your unlaced boots off in the hallway. “You alright, kiddo?” Joel had asked, brows creased, and he remembers the way the movement reminded him of his younger brother.

“’M fine.” You had muttered out, all stormy expression and blunt words. Joel only tilted his head at you. “Tommy stopped by, said they’re gettin’ me a new place across town. Nearby the school.” You had told him, and your expression was almost hopeful as you waited for his response.

“Oh,” Joel had uttered, expression blank for a moment as he nodded his head, almost mindlessly. “Well, that’s good, right?” He responded, eyes studying you almost cautiously. If he hadn’t been looking, he probably would’ve missed the way your face dropped at his response, as if you had been hoping for him to say something else. Instead, you had let out a quiet scoff, before stomping away with a ‘sure’ said lamely back to him. Joel had looked after you, face plastered with confusion, but his mind had known, even back then, the reason for your disdain. Instead of going after you, of saying anything more on the matter, Joel had foolishly just wiped a hand across his face, and had murmured, “Teenagers.”

For the days after that, you seemed withdrawn but hopeful, as if Joel would finally voice what you had been waiting to hear. He didn’t see much of Ellie, who had made more friends her own age, including some girls named Dina and Cat. Apparently, you weren’t in on that friendship. Which had left you at the house with him, the crease between your brows getting deeper each time things remained silent.

Still, Joel was firm. This was what was meant to happen all along. You were never meant to be a permanent fixture of their lives.

So when the day was finally upon them, Joel accompanied you and his younger brother to your new place, carrying your backpack over one of his shoulders. He had tried to ignore the itchy, uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

“It’s a nice place.” Joel had commented, when the silence stretched for far too long, looking around the studio-like bungalow. It was a converted garage, much like what Ellie was going to have in his back yard, whenever the team could help Joel finish converting it. He was almost surprised when Tommy brought them here, however. For whatever reason, Joel hadn’t thought about the fact that you’d be living alone.

“Yeah, it’s great.” You responded flatly, picking at the cover on what was meant to be your new bed almost absently. Joel dropped your backpack beside the door, nodding his head as he took it all in. You tried not to scoff. “You know Joel, I think it’d be better for me to settle in. Alone.” You said, voice just a step away from miserable, expression blank as you looked at him, at the way he nodded his head, seemingly resigned to this conclusion.

“Sure thing, kid.” Joel sighed out, looking back in when he was stood in the doorway. He tapped his knuckles against the doorframe, opening his mouth to say something, but stopping before anything came out. Instead, he had just nodded, leaving with his hands in his pockets.

He returned to a quiet house, Ellie once again somewhere in town with Dina and Cat, having missed your moving day. Joel quickly found that the silence, the emptiness in the house, was uncomfortable. He hadn’t truly realised just how used to your presence he had gotten. Still, this was for the best. Joel didn’t need another kid on his hands. He’d failed more than once, and that was telling enough. He still couldn’t figure out why Tommy had brought you to him in the first place!

Joel didn’t see you for two days afterwards, though he had asked about you, cornering Tommy and demanding to know how you were settling in. It was unsettling when Tommy had only shrugged, expression harsh and unforgiving.

When he finally did see you again, it was at the Tipsy Bison, where he was sipping at amber liquid, waiting for his younger brother to finish talking to someone down the other end of the bar. “Joel!” You called out, immediately drawing his attention. He stood from the stool he had been sat on, brows creased in concern, drink abandoned on the wooden bar top.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asked, confused and concerned all at once.

“No!” You yelled immediately, seemingly outraged by his question, your features practically collapsing in on themselves. You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he didn’t miss the way your hands trembled. “You asked them to move me!” You accused, and Joel quickly realised that this was the first time he had seen you outwardly upset. Every other time, your expression had been made of stone, voice cautiously flat. Now, here, your features were like clay, looking as if you had reshaped them over and over, trying to resist the slant of sadness that took over them. There was a distinctive gloss across your eyes, shining and trembling as you tried to force the tears away. “Admit it, Joel! You wanted me gone and you didn’t have the guts to tell me.”

Joel sighed, rubbing his fingers across his brows, pinching at the bridge of his nose. He glared across the bar at where Tommy was observing, false innocence on his face. He was quick to notice that Tommy wasn’t the only one watching, eyes on the two of you as you waited for his response expectantly. “Kid, it was always a temporary thing. You knew that.” He said, hands on his hips as he shifted his stance.

Clearly, that wasn’t the response you wanted to hear, your features falling further, crumpling downwards, and Joel frowned. “It’s not fair.” You said, voice breaking off halfway through, and you swiped your sleeve across your nose, rubbing tears away from your eyes with your fingertips.

“Life ain’t fair, kid, that’s the truth of it.” Joel responded, looking at your face as if your expression held answers to a question he hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry. But you got your own life now, your own place, you can live however you want. Doesn’t sound like a bad deal to me.”

“I don’t want any of it.” You told him, brows furrowed, the crease between them so deep that Joel was sure it was going to become a permanent fixture of your face. His own frown deepened when you blinked and tears marred your cheeks. “It’s not fair,” You repeated, hand outstretched as if you were reaching for him. “Why do I have to be alone?” You asked, and Joel’s face fell, clearly not expecting that question.

Tommy chose that moment to intervene, stepping in between you and Joel, glancing back at his older brother before focusing his full attention on you. He murmured words that Joel could only presume were reassurance. Joel noticed Tommy’s guiding hand on your shoulder as he led you out of the bar, neither of you glancing back. He ignored the stares on him as he turned back to the bar, finished his drink, and left, going home.

He encountered the two of you just down the street, sharing quiet words that seemed harsh even from a distance. Joel thought about turning back, but found himself approaching cautiously.

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel repeated his earlier question, hands outstretched when the two of you turned to him, the setting sun throwing a shade of orange across both of your faces. You openly glared at him, eyes squinted in a show of unrelenting anger, or maybe, more accurately, hurt.

“Go back inside, Joel.” Tommy told him, sounding nothing short of exasperated between dealing with you and dealing with Joel. He sounded tired, too. “Better yet, go home!”

“Listen,” Joel sighed, trying to reach some form of a truce. You cut him off when he opened his mouth to continue.

“No, Joel, Tommy’s right. Go home. I’ve heard enough.” You said, almost scoldingly, and Joel felt as if he was talking to Sarah again, as if it was her telling him off for something. He tried not to think of that last night, of the cake he’d forgotten, of the watch she’d gifted him, but a glance down it said watch reminded him of his failures. “I’m not your kid, remember?” You reminded him, throwing the words he’d said to his brother back in his face. At least this time, Tommy had the idea to look somewhat guilty for telling you that tidbit of information.

Joel frowned at you, cursing himself for his past words. He didn’t want to hurt you. Hell, that was the whole reason he wanted you gone! Joel was trying to protect you from him, from his inevitable failure. He had never really considered that perhaps this was his failure, that perhaps isolating you to a garage apartment on the other side of town was him failing you.

You stared at him, feeling that bricked up wall around your heart reforming, a promise in the back of your mind forming, a promise that said you wouldn’t let yourself be hurt again. “Go home.” You repeated, the words bitter on your tongue, a thought so sharp in your mind appearing that you physically flinched. Why couldn’t Joel understand? He was the only semblance of home you’d ever had, and he had taken that way from you. You thought that for once, you had found somewhere that you belonged, that you had found people who wanted you around, but you were wrong. Nobody wanted you around. At least that much was clear, at least you could be sure about that one thing.

When you had gone to Tommy all those months ago, your chest empty, tears staining your face, you hadn’t trusted his promise that Joel and Ellie would be good for you. You had been so determined to prove him wrong that you had avoided them, had fled the house more than once just to stay away from the two of them. It was horrible, at the start, it was suffocating. Living in a home that wasn’t yours, intruding on a father who wasn’t your own, a daughter who could never be your sister. To begin with, it had been the most isolated you had ever felt.

Up until that night that it all changed, where you and Ellie had laughed until you cried, sharing jokes and stories just to make one another laugh. It had taken a deeper turn from there, to sharing your experiences in the world that strived to end you. You told Ellie things that you had never told anyone, not even Tommy, certainly not Joel, and she had trusted you with things from her journey with Joel in return. Her voice was coloured with warmth when she spoke of him, though it got more despondent when she got to more recent events. Still, it was that very warmth that eventually caused you to relent to her dinner requests.

And then, finally, you had taken to joining them for dinner without being prompted.

You can remember speaking to Tommy about the two of them, about how things had started looking up, about how he may have been right about Joel and Ellie being good for you. Hell, you can remember seeing Joel from the corner of your eye as you told Tommy about becoming closer to Ellie, about a story she had told you.

Now, you wish Tommy would’ve just left you in the state you were pre-Joel and Ellie, because it would have been better than this. It was an all-encompassing ache that surpassed being purely physical. It bled poison deep into your soul, like acid crumbling the pieces of happiness that had begun to sew back together. It hurt. At least before, you knew that the pain wasn’t your fault, that it couldn’t have been. This pain, however, came from your very roots. You had been unequivocally you whilst with Joel and Ellie, and it had come back to bite you. You can’t help but wonder if, just maybe, you had kept to yourself, if you hadn’t immersed yourself in a life that didn’t belong to you, you would’ve avoided this pain. Because the reason Joel kicked you out was because it was you. That was the only explanation. After all, he kept Ellie around, and she wasn’t his kid in the same way you weren’t.

“Kid…”

“I’m not your kid, Joel. Go home and leave me alone. I don’t wanna say it again.” You responded, firm, voice bordering on trembling. Joel watched, with some amount of confusion, as you turned to Tommy, bearing your teeth at him like it would push him away. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Tommy flinched as if the words were a physical blow, and you missed the betrayed look he gave Joel as you stormed away, walking with purpose towards your garage apartment, where you lived alone. Always alone. From this experience, you could safely say you were ready for it to stay that way.

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