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#good night stories for rebel girls
nerds-in-wonderland · 2 years
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🌈Books About Girl Power🌈
Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls
Book by Elena Favilli and Francesca Cavallo
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"Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls is a children’s book packed with 100 bedtime stories about the lives extraordinary women from the past and the present, illustrated by 60 female artists from all over the world."
~Alice 🌌
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”If I could draw I’d draw fanarts!”
“If I could draw I’d draw my OCs”
“If I could paint I’d paint all the ideas in my head and become rich!”
If I could draw and paint I would completely erase this portrait of J.K Rowling in a book from my childhood, and draw a picture of Imane Khelif there instead.
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This is my copy and it’s in Swedish, btw.
The original title of this book is Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2. It’s the second book out of two. This is the first one.
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These two books were my childhood. Do you have any idea how empowering it is for a young girl like me, feeling alone in a world that seems to become crueller by the day, a girl who feels unheard by adults, to read these kind of books? I have plenty other books like these, too! These were my two favourites.
Two books filled with strong, powerful and cool women who have changed the world in one way or another! Reading these books inspired me so, so much as a little girl. I couldn’t get enough of these two-page stories about women who were brave and stood up for what was right. Women from so many different countries and backgrounds. It was beautiful. These books were how I found out about most of my biggest idols today: Malala Yousafzai, Greta Thunberg, Anne Frank, Emma Watson etc.
As I said, these books are my childhood. Another series of books that played a huge part of my childhood are the Harry Potter books.
As a little kid, I had no idea about who Joanne truly was. All I knew was that she was an author, and I dreamed about becoming an author one day. And Joanne had written one of my favourite series of all time. Of course I looked up to her! I especially remember looking at the drawing of her in Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2, admiring it very much.
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I have grown up. I still love Harry Potter, the series played a massive role in my childhood and it’s been there to comfort me in my hardest times. But I do not support the author, now that I’ve heard about and read the tweets she has made about trans women. It’s disgusting, what she’s said about trans women in the past, what she still says, and what she’s tweeted about Imane Khelif recently… I’ve knows for years now what she’s all about.
It hurts, you know. As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, it hurts to know that the series I love so dearly, the series that always makes me feel better, is written by a person who has no respect whatsoever towards half of my friend group and other trans people. None. She is a horrible human being, and it hurts to know that.
Knowing that her face, her name and her story is written in yet another book in my bookshelf, that her presence is constant in my room, makes me sick to my stomach and has done so for a long time now. Ever since I remembered a while back that she’s in this book, this wonderful book about women who have made the world a better place and continue fighting daily, women I look up to so much… I’ve had this sick feeling in my stomach, because she does not belong in this book. She isn’t a feminist. She excludes trans women from womanhood and accuses cis women of being trans or intersex based on their strength and talent in sports. Based on a supposed high level of testosterone? Joanne is cruel, and she’s rude, and she is not a person kids should be taught to look up to. Not after all she’s done.
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Earlier today, I was thinking about this again. And as so many times before, I wished that I myself was a talented artist. This is something I’ve thought about before, but for different reasons. I’ve always wished I could draw portraits and pretty paintings. Fanarts for my favourite ships that I can only picture in my head but not transfer to paper. I’ve always loved drawing, but I’ve never been too good at it. Now I desperately wish that I was.
Because if I was a talented artist, I would grab my pens and paint and brushes, and I would cover up the portrait of J. K Rowling in my book. I would make a whole new portrait in its place, a portrait of another woman I look up to, a strong and beautiful and brave woman. A women called Imane Khelif.
And I’d get rid of the page full of facts and stories about Rowling, I’d tear it apart and throw it away and replace it with the story of Imane Khelif, the one woman Rowling cannot tolerate because of her talent for boxing. I can write. I can’t draw, but I can write. I so wish I could do both right now, because if I truly could trust myself with fully remaking two book pages, I would do it without hesitation.
Imane Khelif’s story deserves to be told. J.K Rowling’s story deserves to be told with seriousness, and grief because of what she has become. This woman could have been a successful author and a beloved feminist, and she could have left it at that. Sadly, she chose a path of hatred and cyber bullying. She chose this journey for herself, and I am sorry for everyone who got their childhood ruined because of it. Heck, I’m sorry for her even, but I still know in my heart that she has no excuses for what she has done. I despise her.
Kids need to be warned about TERFs, not trans women.
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Collage made by @thingsmk1120sayz (I will delete it immediately if you ask me to, love <3)
I stand by Imane Khelif. I stand by the girls who grew up to be strong and wonderful women, the women who made their childhood dreams reality and won medals in the Olympics, the women who became successful artists, the women who reached their goals and ended up writing bestseller books loved by generations.
I stand by them, and I love them. But I feel nothing but hatred and pity towards J. K Rowling. Fuck her twisted beliefs. Much love to Imane Khelif!
Edit: I would like to clarify, Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2 was released 2017. I have no idea when Joanne started spreading her transphobic views on social media. Feel free to educate me on reblogs and comments! Anyways, I don’t think that the authors of this book, Elena Favilli and Francesca Cavallo, meant to cause any harm by putting Rowling in their book. Either this was before Rowling started tweeting transphobic things, or the authors didn’t know about her being a TERF (I doubt the latter). So please don’t send any hate to these wonderful authors! If you want to send them questions regarding their books, I’m pretty sure you’re free to do so! xx
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w-armansky-blog · 2 years
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source: WOMEN: 50 starke Frauen und ihre Geschichten | Faszinierende Vorbilder, die ihre Stimme erheben und die Welt verändern Gebundene Ausgabe – 28. Juli 2022; von Chiara Pasqualetti Johnson (Autor), Alessandro Ventrella (Illustrator), Ingrid Exo (Übersetzer).
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celestemona · 3 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒
and the kids ask them how did they fall in love.
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pairing: dad & husband! alhaitham, cyno, kaedehara kazuha, kaveh, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. use of farsi, arabic and japanese terms. there's a lot of dialogues but there's a plot. approximately 7.3k words. not beta-read.
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
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Wriothesley
You watched Cameron and Éveline playing on the other side of the room as you tirelessly documented the files that had arrived from the courthouse that afternoon. 
Wriothesley have been patrolling the prison’ Forbbiden Zone all day after receiving an information about some anomaly within the fortress, so you barely had seen your husband except for the brief greeting at breakfast.
Distracted with your work, you didn't even notice that both children had stopped building the wooden blocks and Cameron was sitting in the chair in front of you while Eve made herself comfortable on the sofa behind him.
“Mummy?” he called and you looked up from the papers at him and smiled.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“How did you and Daddy fall in love?”
Your son's sudden question took you by surprise, leaving you stunned for a few seconds. But you soon found yourself chuckling and ignoring your work to pay attention to the boy. 
“Why the sudden curiosity, Cam? That's pretty out of your character, you know.”
Cameron shrugged.
“I just want to know how you and Daddy met.”
Smiling softly, you nodded.
“Very well. Let’s see… It all began a long time ago, when mommy was sentenced to the Fortress of Meropide,” you narrated in a reflexive tone and waved for Éveline to come closer to sit next to her friend.
“Back then, mama wasn’t the person she is today, you see. I was rude, I was always angry, I picked fights with anyone who crossed my way and I didn't let anyone get close to me. You could say I wasn't a very nice person to be around, and because I was in prison, it also meant I wasn't a good person either.”
“I simply couldn't get used to life down here as most of the prisoners do, nor do I could accept the sentence that was given to me. Therefore, I rebelled in every way I could and participated in the fights in the hope that someone would see some value in me and would send me back to the capital. But, well, at that time we had a not very nice director and the inmates cared more about themselves than about others.” 
“Lo and behold, a year passed, your dad ascended as Duke and I was still hoping to be able to get out of here.”
“But then, the night of a new duel had arrived and barely I knew it'd be a night that'd change my life forever. It was the night I finally met your dad. Or better saying, where he became interested in me.”
“I remember it was a quick fight. I was already assured of victory but my opponent decided to bravely face me anyway. Although I was no longer the girl I was a year ago, I was still merciless in the face of a rival. Mostly of the Pankration Ring’s regulars knew my name because I made of it my reputation. That was one of the reasons your dad went to watch the fight that night. He wanted to see who was the person who was sending dozens and dozens of prisoners to Sigewinne,” you smirked at the kids making them giggling. 
“When the fight ended, he came to me wanting to know more about me and asking all kinds of questions. Nevertheless I wasn't interested in relationship, preferring to stay away from every one of the Fortress. Furthermore, I had an exclusive grudge against men so I couldn’t stand his person,” you paused the story to see if Cameron would react negatively to this detail but the boy only seemed more interested by it. 
“I don't remember very well what I said to him, however, it was clear that I wasn't interested and didn't want any kind of flattery from him. Needless to say it didn't work because your dad is as stubborn as a mule.”
“From that night, Wriothesley made a promise to himself to get closer to me and he fulfilled it very well as he kept following me everywhere.”
“It was extremely annoying and I couldn't understand what his curiosity about me was. After all, when I first arrived here he had never shown any sign of acknowledging my existence, so why at that moment?”
“Even though I still didn't understand him and tried at all costs to escape his sight, Wriothesley always found a way to find me and include me in his conversations. It was irritating to get so much attention from the new director of the Fortress of Meropide, and it was even scarier for me not to know what was his intentions either. But, over time, I got used to his presence and even started to yearn for it…”
“A couple of months later I dared to ask him why he insisted on getting closer to me,” you snorted at the memory as a small smile stretched your lips.
“What did he say?” Éveline asked curious.
“He said he wanted me to know that even though I kept pushing everyone away from me, he’d always come back. Because even though I thought I was doing better on my own, no one deserves to be alone and remain unseen.”
“It wasn’t the answer I expected but I felt like all my feelings—all the frustration, anger, sadness, and pain I was carrying at that time were validated, and he was seeing each of them.”
“After that, it took a while longer for me to accept that there was someone who cared about me, but I slowly opened my heart to him.”
“When I finally came to terms with my feelings, I still tested Wriothesley's loyalty a little bit more. I must say it was worth it to see him working hard for two years. Nonetheless, he was and still is the best choice I’ve ever made,” you finish the story and the children clap excitedly making you laugh in amusement.
Unexpectedly, a third person also claps and you see the said person leaning against the stair railing, smirking at you—probably he had been there since the beginning of the story.
“So you mean that all that time I was trying my best to have my feelings acknowledged you were testing me? That hurts, doll.”
You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to the children who were entertained by the scene. 
“Just like I’ve said. It was worth each second.”
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Neuvillette
“Mummy, daddy. How did you fall in love?” Éveline asks suddenly as she makes her presence known in your husband’s office, making both of you stop your tasks to stare at her.  
“I was playing with Cam today and he asked his mama how she and Monsieur Wriothesley met and fell in love, and it was a very nice story! I want to know how you and papa met and fell in love too!” she says with a rare enthusiasm that makes you chuckle and Neuvillette smiles fondly.
“My my, if my beautiful Line isn’t curious today, huh?” you tease your daughter and leave a quick peck on her pale cheek soon after. “Well, let me see… Everything began when mama was sentenced to prison,” you chuckle when Éveline's blue eyes widen. 
“No need to get your little head stewing with that, angel. It was years ago and mama didn’t stay there too long either. You see, your mom used to do some… inappropriate stuff and I ended up going to trial for that.” 
Neuvillette snorted softly from his desk.
“Inappropriate is a very polite way for your mom to say she used to be involved with a lot of illegal matters, darling,” Neuvillette pointed out with a small smirk himself as he stopped his reading to stare at you. 
“Oh, shush you, Neuvi. You say that as if it was an unforgivable crime when it wasn’t,” you roll your eyes in fake annoyance making Éveline giggle, “As I was saying, angel. Mama went to trial and, of course, your papa was the only one to conduct it.” 
“You see, I already knew who was he—actually, who didn't? The just and benevolent but impartial Iudex of Fontaine. Although, I had never seen him in person until the day I had to show at court.”
“At that time I’d never admit it but I was very anxious to meet the head judge of Fontaine. When you get involved in reckless things, you think you're smarter than everyone and will never get caught, but little did I know that your dad had been tracking and watching me for ages.”
“And then when I finally stood in front of him, my nervousness strangely disappeared and became more like a curiosity. After all, I had only heard about the Iudex's morals and not his personality much less his appearance, so it was clear to everyone at the court that I was very intrigued by that man standing above me.”
“As the trial proceeded, he gave me a five-year sentence in the Fortress of Meropide which I managed to reduce by eight months for good behavior,” you winked at your daughter who kept listening to your storytelling, dazzled. “Not only did I refuse to be there in prison away from my own business, but I felt more motivated to return to the surface to learn more about your dad.”
“When I finally got back to the city, I used all my means to get your dad’s attention again—which actually worked several times since he likes to keep an eye on Fontaine’s order.” 
“Then, the months were passing by and my curiosity and interest just kept growing. And suddenly, I caught myself falling in love with all the things I was learning about him.”
“Even though it was fun to use of wrong ways to get the attention of the man you like, it was also tiring. And that situation was also reaching a point where I felt like your dad wasn't giving me the signals I was expecting him to do, so I was also getting stressed. Maybe he isn’t as fond of me as I am of him, that was what I thought.”
“Nevertheless, I'm a very resilient woman. I didn't let myself sink into self-pity, much less feel sad about the lack of reciprocity in love so I opened a new business here in the capital saying I wanted to live a peaceful life, and see where it’d take me. Fortunately here I could make great friends, a lot of associates, and even more trades.”
“And contrary to my guessing, Neuvi eventually started to visit my store where we had more appropriate interactions and talks, much for my joy.”
“I kept falling in love with him every day, you know? Thankfully your dad is a gentleman and he didn't take too long to ask me on a date. From then on, we became almost inseparable. That’s our story.” 
As you finish your love story, you could see your daughter’s eyes sparkling like two beautiful gems and a huge smile shining on her face. It made you happy that she enjoyed the story of how her parents met instead of getting mixed feelings by it—after all, the things you still do are better kept hidden until she’s older enough to understand them. 
You and your family kept talking about the said topic for a while, but eventually, you had to say goodbye to them to leave for a meeting with some partners from your business which you already were late for.
Unbeknownst to you though, Éveline and Neuvillette who were still in the office, shared your love story once again. But this time, it was a version you still haven’t heard.
Perhaps you'd never know either as it became a secret shared only between father and daughter. 
“I fell in love with your mom at the very moment I saw her.”
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Lyney
The twins' little nimble footsteps could be heard throughout the house before it took them to the kitchen where you and Lyney were busy cleaning the lunch dishes. 
“Mommy, mommy! Uncle Freminet just read a book to Quentin and me and we want to know how you and Daddy fell in love too!” exclaimed Corinne, smiling excitedly. 
“Oh my. That was quite sudden,” you laughed as you dried the last dish of the day and put it away immediately to give your full attention to the children, “I bet it was a very romantic book for you to be so excited about.” 
“It was!”, they exclaimed together making you and Lyney laugh. 
“I don't see why not, then. It may not be as exciting as the tale Freminet read to you, but I think you'll like it too,” you say sitting at the table and placing Corinne on your lap while Lyney does the same with Quentin. 
“Well, I think our story is much more charming than the one in the book that Uncle Freminet read to you,” replies your husband, sending you a wink, “You could say that like a fairy tale, the magician prince fell in love at first sight with the most beautiful princess in the entire kingdom.”
“Back in those days, a troupe of nomadic artists traveled throughout Teyvat bringing joy and laughter to their audiences. It was your mom’s family.”
“They traveled across all nations enchanting its residents with their music, acrobatics, but especially with their dance. And, believe it or not, they had never come to Fontaine until that day.” 
“As a lover of the art of entertainment, I had to see for myself what a performance by the Pathfinder’s Troupe would be like, they who had a reputation that extended beyond the stars in the sky! Furthermore, as a colleague in the same department, I also wanted to give my final verdict. But truth to be told, daddy was just a little bit of jealous because of all the attention mama’s group was getting at that time,” he made a face at this specific memory that made you and the kids laugh. 
“So when the night of the show came, I finally understood why they were such a success. All the troupe members had a bright, warm smile, seeming to love what they were doing. The music was loud and happy and even though you didn't know the language they sang in, you wanted to join them. It was a simple show, but funny and welcoming.” 
“But then when it came time for your mom to take the stage, there wasn't a person in the audience who wasn't dazzled by her. Including me,” Lyney pauses as he smiles at the memory running through his mind. You smiled back. 
“It was, and still is, the most beautiful performance I had ever seen. Not only did your mom look like a goddess at that moment, with her traditional clothing, makeup, and gold jewelry, but she mesmerized the audience with her movements.” 
“Unfortunately, her dance didn’t last long and she soon left the stage, thanking us all for our presence.” 
“Like several people enchanted by that beautiful dancer, I tried to approach her to say my compliments but—whether you two believe it or not, daddy was scared to death.” 
“Why scared Daddy?” asked Quentin. 
“Mama was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of her, much less offend her with my words,” Lyney replies to which the two children nod as if they understood. 
“Luckily, daddy always had a secret or two up his sleeve, and when I approached her, I did a little magic trick turning a tiny spark of my vision into a Rainbow Rose, which at the time I thought was my worst trick but it seemed to make your mom happy.” 
“It was the most genuine and sweetest gesture anyone had ever made to me,” you extend your hand to your husband across the table and he takes it, placing a light kiss on your palm. 
“We didn't have much time left together since she was traveling back to her hometown the next morning, and nor did I have the courage to invite her to dinner either, something that caused me deep regret and even made Aunt Lynette annoyed.” 
“But before she left, I promised I’d see her again. And, luckily, a few months later, she and her troupe returned to Fontaine to perform a new show.” 
“And then you said you loved each other?” Corinne asked innocently.
You and Lyney laughed, “No Rin. Far from it actually. Your dad could barely get close to me without him stuttering something indecipherable, turning around, and disappearing into the city streets,” you teased your husband which made him feel embarrassed. 
“What can I say? You always seemed to get more beautiful each day and I had never been interested in anyone before. Besides, there were a lot of suitors vying for your attention so I figured you wouldn’t be interested in me.” 
You roll your eyes in amusement, “And look where we are now.” 
“So how did you start to love each other?” Quentin asks, still in doubt. 
“After many failed attempts by your papa, he finally managed to invite me to dinner—which I accepted without thinking twice. After that, he felt more confident talking to me and asking me out,” you say, “But there were also many times when we were away from each other due to our work.” 
“I knew I loved the troupe and I loved being on the road traveling and performing in different countries but I was also in love with your papa. When I was with him… I knew I had found a home. So I left the troupe, came to Fontaine, confessed my feelings to him and, fortunately, he confessed me back.” 
“And since then we have been living happily ever after. The end!” Lyney jokes and you and the twins giggles again. 
“So! Did you like the story?” you ask. 
Corinne is the first to nod eagerly. Her beautiful purple eyes shone like two amethysts in pure joy towards her parents' love story. 
Quentin in turn… 
“Meh. I thought Daddy had fight a dragon to save you.” 
You and Lyney stare at each other for a while before laughing loudly, catching the attention of Lynette and Freminet as they enter the kitchen. 
Yeah. You couldn't deny it. Fighting a dragon seemed more exciting in this case.
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Kazuha
“It’s more precise to say that love has fallen on me,” Kazuha said as he sat Kazumi on his right leg and little Kiyomi on his left. His children looked at him with a confused expression making him chuckle. 
“It was a long time ago. We were sailing on the waters east of Mondstadt when I felt an unknown agitation being carried by the wind currents.”
“You should know that it’s pretty rare to face sea creatures nowadays due to fishing, but at that time, it was an occurrence we faced quite often so we should've always be prepared for it. And as part of The Crux’s crew, it was my job to stay vigilant, so I immediately informed our captain and mates to stay alert and careful for a possible attack—although I must say I wasn’t alarmed as I should be. Something in my instincts told me to not be afraid,” he smiled at the memories. 
“Then, as if to confirm my predictions, we saw a shadow crossing the skies and falling not soon after. No one seemed to react in time, however, I had instantly prepared myself with the help of my vision for whatever was coming to us.” 
“That was when your mom fell directly into my arms, surprising everyone on the ship because I had just saved her life from a free fall after one of the wings of her wind glider broke,” the kids gasped and he kept softly smiling at them.
“I feared that your mama had hurt herself during the fall but when she finally looked at me she was giving me that gorgeous, bright smile of hers. I think it was at that exact moment where she had my heart.” 
“Until that moment I had never seen someone so beautiful in my life. She looked stunning, wonderful. As radiant as the first sun ray of the morning.”
“I could see she was thanking me for saving her life as her lips kept moving, but all I could do at that moment was stare at her, completely mesmerized. It was quite impossible not to be that one who was falling in love at that very moment.” 
“After that, she started accompanying us on some journeys and even took us on some of her adventures. I was in love with her free spirit, yes, but even more so with her person. It didn't take long for us to get closer, and starting to date her was as natural as having her in my life.”
“That's our story. It is still being written, however, this time we have you, our most beloved children, to share our memories with.”
As he finished it, Kazuha noticed the dreamy and joyful expressions on both children's faces. Kiyomi seemed the most enchanted by the story since she had inherited the romantic spirit of both her parents while Kazumi pretended to be unimpressed when in fact, inwardly, he was eager for more details of it. The patriarch couldn’t hide his amusement at the view. 
Both siblings showed excitedly their enthusiasm towards their parents’ love story with some funny and cute comments here and there which, eventually, drew your attention to the living room they were in.
When you walked in with a baby Haruki sleeping in your arms, your family stopped their conversation to stare at you which made you raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“What? Am I interrupting something? I heard a loud noise coming from here and came to see what you two little things were up to.” 
Kazumi and Kiyomi looked briefly at each other before giggling cutely. 
“Otochan was telling us the story of how you met and how he fell in love with you,” your daughter responds excitedly. 
This immediately brings a smile to your face, making you walk over and sit on the couch next to them, adjusting Haru comfortably in your arms as you lean towards your two older children and husband. 
“Oh, I love this story! Did you guys know? I literally fell for your dad!”
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Kaveh
It was late at night and you and Kaveh were putting Zahra to sleep. 
Normally, you and your husband would take turns with your daughter's nighttime routine so that the tasks wouldn’t be exhausting for only one person. 
However, the little girl had woken up sick that morning and had demanded her both parents' attention all day, acting more whiny than usual. So it wasn't unexpected that she also asked for both parents to be with her at bedtime.  
Lying in bed with Zahra, you stroked her blonde curls as she snuggled into the warmth of your embrace, happy for the attention she received. In turn, Kaveh was looking for a book from her mini library to read to her, although you could tell that he was having a hard time making the right choice since none of the options seemed to catch his daughter's attention. 
“Umm… We have The Boar Princess, Flowers for Princess Fischl, and The Fox in the Dandelion Sea but Daddy doesn’t know if you want me to read one of those titles again,” Kaveh showed her the books but Zahra denied them.
“No! Daddy already read The Boar Princess yesterday and I don't like Princess Fischl,” she responds grumpily, which draws a sigh of defeat from the architect. 
“Okay, I'm out of ideas. Azizam, I need help here.” 
You giggled softly but went to your husband's aid, “Well... How about we change the scene a little and tell you a different story?”
Zahra's eyes suddenly widened in curiosity and she nodded enthusiastically. 
“How about if we tell you something new? Something that doesn't even exist in books. The story of how Mommy and Daddy met!”
Kaveh, also seeming to brighten at your suggestion, takes the other spot on your daughter's tiny bed and wraps his arm around both of your waists.
“Ah, this is one of my favorite stories,” he comments, sending you a small smile. 
“It’s better than The Boar Princess, mummy?” asks Zahra excitedly. 
You laugh, “Much better than The Boar Princess, sweetheart. Honey, how about you do the honors?” you suggest in a mischievous tone that catches Kaveh off guard, but seeing that you weren't going to budge and his little princess seemed increasingly anxious, the architect cleared his throat before starting to recount about the day he finally met you. 
“Let’s see… It was at a time when life was a bit of a rollercoaster for me.”
“You know, I’ve always been very passionate about my work and have always dedicated myself to the maximum to bring my projects to life. I was ambitious, hard-working, and had dozens of clients but I was also quite ignorant. It didn't matter how great my desire to build houses and palaces was, or how strong were my inspiration when my wallet didn't match my reality. Neither did my mental state...” 
“Then one day I received a letter. It was the Liyue's Tianquan inviting me to participate in an exclusive civil construction project and my participation in this event would be of great honor.” 
“When I saw that opportunity, I grabbed it without thinking about the consequences. After all, it wasn't every day that I received a chance like that, and even though my work had a certain popularity, not all clients were able to follow my ideas. So I imagined that being in a foreign environment with people who apparently valued my projects would be like reaching the purpose I wanted. Plus the paycheck seemed to be rewarding too.” 
You snort in amusement at his last comment. 
“So I went to Liyue and soon I was in a huge meeting room with professionals coming from all Teyvat. As the project meeting continued I found myself increasingly out of place by the suggestions my colleagues were making. They were so closed-minded. When they’re thinking about time, I wanted quality. While they wanted cost savings, I wanted to do something to make the people involved in that construction feel worthy of a home. It was disappointing and I was starting to get sick of that place.”
“That’s when your mama decided to speak out,” the man’s eyes twinkled briefly. 
“Unlike those people who had simple and selfish ideals, your mom was brilliant, confident, and bold. Not only did she catch the attention of the men in that room with her beauty and elegance, but it was certainly her intelligence that captured the hearts of many that day. Including mine.” 
“Until that moment I hadn’t given my opinion, but knowing that one of the main people in charge had a similar vision to mine, I felt excited to give my ideas. It was one of the moments I felt most anxious too.” 
Zahra frowned, “Why Daddy?”
“I think at that moment I got it into my head that your mom had high expectations for me and I didn’t want to disappoint her.” 
“But luckily that wasn't the case as she seemed to approve each of my ideas. That’s how we ended up forming a partnership.” 
“As we worked together, I found myself liking her more and more. At the time, this was also a big obstacle for me as I didn’t like mixing my professional and personal relationships.”
"But— aah, your mama had a way of enchanting me every day. She appreciated my work and my dedication. She encouraged me to think bigger and challenged me to be bolder not only with my work but with myself. Somewhere along the way, our nightly sessions turned into conversations about life, ambitions, and even our struggles.”
“A few months later, when we finally finished the construction, I felt brave enough to confess my feelings to her, and guess what your mom said, Zaza?” 
“What? What did she say Daddy?” she asked expectantly. 
“Mama said she wouldn’t accept my feelings until I sorted my life out,” he huffed making you laugh and your daughter look at you in disbelief. 
“Don’t look at me like that, Zaza. At the time it was the right decision to make. I was already in love with your papa as much as he was with me, but I knew he wasn't ready to get into a relationship when he wasn't okay with himself. I wanted someone who could provide me security and was confidence in themselves, and your daddy didn’t have those qualities.”
“Ouch, azizam. You don’t need to rub it in!” 
“I’m just saying.”
Kaveh sighed resignedly, “Anyway, she said she wouldn’t accept my feelings but would wait for me as long as necessary.” 
“After that, I returned to Sumeru but this time determined to prove myself to her. I used every means possible to resolve my financial, family, and personal issues. I worked tirelessly to find my path and build my own home. And almost two years later I traveled back to Liyue. But this time I was sure I wouldn't leave without my girl, and so I did,” he finishes the story, and you clap softly while Zahra smiles tiredly. 
“It was a great story, azizam,” you comment, smiling, “But I think now it’s time to finish for today because our little princess needs to sleep well to wake up better tomorrow.” 
Kaveh looks at his daughter's sleepy eyes and agrees. 
You place Zahra back on her pillow and cover her with the blanket, placing a kiss on her forehead—Kaveh copying your gesture soon after.
Saying goodnight to the girl, you and your husband leave the room together, leaving the door ajar the way she liked it. 
On the way to your room, you couldn't help but notice how Kaveh looked so down and you frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
He clicks his tongue and turns his face to the other side, mumbling, “I was just thinking you didn't need to say that I didn't look confident back then, you know? What about now, azizam? What will my own daughter think of me? She’ll think I’m lame!”
You roll your eyes. 
“You surely look lame now.” 
“Hey!”
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Alhaitham
The heavy oak door creaked softly as Alhaitham entered the house, his mind finally relaxing after a long day at work. 
Right in the living room, the scribe identified your very focused presence with what he presumed to be correcting tests and homework. So as not to make his arrival go unnoticed, Alhaitham approaches and gently touches your shoulders, making you jump in scared. 
“I’m sorry, habibti. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says and you smile at him. 
“It’s okay, dear,” you reach for his hand and squeeze it in greeting, “But you should learn to make a little more noise, Haitham. Your presence is as subtle as that of a cat. Anyway, welcome home.” 
Alhaitham kisses the top of your head, “Thank you. Where is Hakim?”
You frown and look around the room but don't identify your son's presence anywhere.
“I am not sure, to be honest. He was here with me until a few minutes ago but I don't think watching his mother work is that fun. Maybe he's painting in his room? If he had gone out to play with the twins, he’d have told me,” You conclude. 
Your husband nods, but the faint gleam of recognition in his eyes announces that he already has an idea where the child could be. 
“Very well. I’ll change my clothes first and I’ll make us some tea right after, okay?” 
You nod in thanks and turn your attention to the paperwork while Alhaitham disappears through the halls of the house. 
Instead of making his way to your shared room, the scribe heads to the door of his office where he finds it ajar. Not surprised, Alhaitham approaches and through the small opening observes the brightly lit room as Hakim makes himself comfortable on the floor leafing through a specific book but surrounded by dozens of others—which he assumes have fallen to the floor as his son tried to reach them from the highest shelf. 
A mixture of fatherly pride and affection surfaced beneath his stoic exterior. 
Clearing his throat lightly, Alhaitham approaches with measured steps, not wanting to scare the boy.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he announces making Hakim jump in fright, just like his mother did. Alhaitham snorted in amusement. 
“Sorry Baba. I know you don’t like anyone touching your things, but I was going to tidy everything up later.” 
“It’s okay, Kim,” he replies calmly and sits down in the armchair located in the middle of the office, “What are you reading?”
Hakim smiles adorably showing off the book he was so interested in and Alhaitham couldn't help but chuckle. 
“It’s a cool book!” comments the boy, “I can't read what's written because there are lots of strange letters and drawings but they're cool too.” 
“I expect so. After all, your mother wrote this book.” 
Hakim’s interest peaks, “Really?” 
“Yes. It's one of my favorite ones, by the way. It was through it that I met her”, he pats his thighs inviting Hakim to sit on his lap which the boy accomplishes happily. 
Hakim leans back against his father's warm chest, hugging the book affectionately, “How did you two meet, Baba?”
Alhaitham was silent for a few seconds before letting out a reflective sigh. 
“It was at the same time that I was holding the position of Acting Grand Sage”, Alhaitham began, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. 
“Sumeru was going through great changes due to everything that had happened and, inevitably, Akademiya had been one of the main places affected by it. I ended up temporarily taking on the role of the great sage out of respect for Buer's wise decision, although it wasn't exactly the job I was looking for.”
“There were many responsibilities, many commitments, and daily there were dozens of issues to be resolved due to years, centuries of bad motivations. So you can imagine how exhausting it was to rebuild an entire institution from zero and be that person that people followed orders.”  
“Until one day your mother suddenly appears as a new candidate for the position of professor in the Darshan of Haravatat.” 
“I hadn't met her at first since our paths never seemed to cross. Yet the words in the halls of the Akademiya were always the same: the new professor was like a breath of fresh air in that old institution—beautiful, kind, with a passion for knowledge that matched her beauty.”
He paused, remembering the scene as if it were yesterday. “One afternoon, I found myself in the library again, buried in a book—absorbing all that knowledge with a hunger that had previously been unknown to me. Little did I know that it was her book that I was reading. Such insight, elegance, and dedication to details had uniquely captivated me.”
“I was pretty engrossed in the text when I heard footsteps approaching,” Alhaitham continued, with a hint of amusement in his tone. “She stood by my side and gently asked about the book, curious to know what I thought, and so our conversation began.”
“We didn't talk much that day as I was a much more reserved person, but she was exactly as the scholars’ whispers described her. Through the brief talk we had, I was able to explore philosophical thoughts and complexities of life that I had never explored before. Your mother had a way of drawing out my thoughts, of making me see beyond the surface and into the depths of existence. That’s what attracted me to her in the first place.”  
“As days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, we met at the library quite often. Our discussions deepened, and with each talk, I found myself opening up in ways I hadn't before.”
“I think she knew back then that she had caught my attention, although it took her a little longer to realize that she had stolen my heart,” he chuckles softly. Hakim smiles in delight.
“We began spending more time together beyond the Akademiya strongholds, exploring the world around us. It made me realize how much I wanted her in my life. In that same way. Every day." 
“And then one night, in our quiet sanctuary in that very hallway in the library, I told her those exact words,” Alhaitham's voice softened with love.
“She smiled that radiant smile of hers that illuminates even the darkest corners of my soul and said she felt the same way. At that moment, Hakim, it was like the stars aligned and everything fell into place.” 
“That’s how I met your mother, Kim. In the silent corners of knowledge and amid the pages of her wisdom, our love story began—a story woven with understanding, respect, and a bond that grows stronger with each passing day.”
Alhaitham ends the story with a slight smile to which his son imitates him, admiringly. 
“I hope one day I can meet someone like you and mama did, Baba.” 
The scribe smirks in amusement, “I hope for the same, child.”
Not long after, you made your entrance into the office carrying in your hands a tray with three cups of tea and milk and Hakim's favorite cookies. 
“I knew you boys were hiding out here,” you smile at your husband and son, completely oblivious to the story they just shared. “Come on. Let’s eat while the cookies are still warm.”
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Cyno 
The whole family was gathered in front of the fireplace reviewing some photos that you had captured and saved over the years. 
From your days as an eremite to the twins' first steps, every moment was recorded in several photographs that you kept with the greatest care so that, from time to time, you could remember them again with a nostalgic feeling. And currently, this was one of those moments. 
Aryan and Isaar were having fun with some older photos of Cyno, courtesy of Cyrus, while you and he organized the rest of the albums back into the box they belonged to. 
It was a serene moment, of pure bliss and harmony. Something you wish you could capture with your kamera again, but you'd rather enjoy just being with the people you loved most. 
“Hey Mama, what picture is that?” asks Isaar, breaking you out of your daydreams. 
When you recognize the black and white, slightly blurred image, a giggle couldn't help but escape your lips. 
“Aah, it's from our first date,” you reply happily, “If I'm not mistaken, Dehya and Candace had followed us that day and took this one. Nobody could believe that the emotionless and unapproachable General Mahamatra could go on a date with a beautiful girl, so I think they wanted to have proof that this day happened.” 
Cyno snorts and the twins nod in understanding, smiling at each other. 
“How did you and Baba meet?” Aryan asks shortly afterward, still mesmerized by the photo in his brother's hands. 
You and Cyno locked eyes briefly and a mischievous smirk crossed your face as the flicker of a smile curved his lips. 
“Well, you boys won't believe it, but it all started when I defeated your baba in a fight.” 
The smile on Cyno's face immediately disappeared, being replaced by an expression of slight unbelief and confusion. “You didn't defeat me, hayati. I remember very well that it was a draw.”
You made a slight grimace as if you didn't believe the blasphemy your husband was saying, which left him more incredulous than before, and your children quite amused. 
“These are irrelevant details, my love. Let’s pretend you never said that.” 
“Anyway, I was a different person back then,” you continued, your eyes shining with a mixture of mischief and pride. “Living according to my clan's philosophy but in a more devious and rebellious way, if I may say so. I wanted to chart a path in a way that’d only suit me.” 
“I used to do several illegal jobs for which the matras already persecuted me for, but it was deceiving the young and naive scholars from Akademiya that amused me and made my reputation grow among its guards. No need to give me that look, boys. Mama only took them to forbidden ruins and mausoleums in exchange for extra money,” you added the last part as you received strange looks from the twins. 
Cyno, seeing the scene, snorted in amusement, “You’re not helping yourself, hayati.”
“If they want to hear the true and complete version they better be prepared to hear what happened,” you wrinkled your nose. 
To save you from more possible judgments, Cyno resumed the thread, his deep voice cutting through the room. “I was immediately informed about the incidents that were occurring with certain frequency, and tasked with restoring order. It was supposed to be a job easily accomplished even by the lowest ranking among the matras, but not only were your mom’s activities not within the law, as no officer was a match for her strength either. Many scholars had not been discovered of their misconduct thanks to her,” he admitted, a slight affectionate smile crossing his face. 
His subtle compliment made you shy. 
“And just as your dad’s reputation preceded him, he tracked me like a bloodhound,” you said with a hint of admiration underlying your words. “Until one afternoon I caught myself off guard on the outskirts of the Sobek Oasis and he appeared announcing that he’d take me to the capital so I could have my punishment. I found him incredibly attractive at that moment, but I wasn't going to give in so easily either. In the end, we ended up fighting,” you giggled remembering the duel. Two forces of nature colliding: fire and thunder. 
“It was a draw,” Cyno resumes saying it again, “Although I must admit your mom gave me a bit of a hard time. It was my first time facing a formidable opponent who was equal to me—I dare say even superior to my abilities.” 
Isaar, the more curious of the twins, leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement, “What happened next?” 
You exchanged a knowing look with your husband, silently communicating with him. 
“Well, sometimes life surprises you,” you respond cryptically, reaching out to ruffle the child’s hair in affection. 
Cyno's gaze softened imperceptibly as he continued, “Our paths continued to cross after our first meeting. While on one hand your mom seemed not to give up what she was doing, I felt increasingly motivated, challenged to stop her—after all, not only was this affecting the performance of the Akademiya students, but it was also tarnishing the reputation of the matras who weren’t managing to deal with that situation.” 
“But as time passed and we kept facing each other, we also came to an understanding. Sometimes behind the clash of wills, there is a common thread. That’s how your mom and I realized we were stronger together than we were apart.”
Aryan, although quieter but no less attentive, absorbed his father's words with a thoughtful expression. 
“So, it was like fate, Mama?” he mused aloud.
You smiled warmly at your children, your heart filling with maternal pride. 
“Maybe it was. In an unpredictable way, but woven by the hands of fate,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of years of shared history and love.
As the night progressed, you and Cyno continued to tell the twins your stories of adventures, challenges overcome, and the unshakable bond that had been born in infertile soil and blossomed into a deep, beautiful and lasting partnership. 
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-four | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | murder, getting away with murder, minor character death, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, fingering (f. receiving), hints of edging, blood kink if you squint, creampie, virgin! Coryo lossing virginity | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 the end
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 the last chapter! I probably won't do an epilogue, i am not entirely sure on it yet! But this wraps up their story!! I hope you guys liked it! Make sure to reblog and give ne your feedback!
beta read by an angel (TRUTH) @nowitsmissing
thank you to everyone who was on this journey with me... I love you guys!
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Coriolanus finds Lucy Gray near the hanging tree. It was nearly evening. Lucy Gray's eyes were red. Coriolanus ignored the pity he felt. Soon, Lucy Gray would join Sejanus Plinth.
“Lucy Gray,” he hissed, taking her attention away from the tree.
“You'll need to leave,” he said, his voice faking desperation, “to the North. Sejanus would have wanted that.”
“What about you?” Lucy Gray asked, “What about the Covey?”
“The Covey will live, Lucy Gray, you know that. They're strong. They're survivors,” he replied, “as for me, I wish to leave with you. I can't stay in the place that took my friend.”
Coriolanus' eyes quickly filled with tears as soon as he finished. “It's all my fault,” his lips utter, “if only I could have stopped him.”
Lucy Gray looks at him, her face stricken with grief. She doesn't say anything but lets the tears fall down her cheeks. She pulls Coriolanus into a hug.
“The Peacekeepers will look for me, I'll stay in the cabin for the night,” Lucy Gray said. There was a cabin, near the lake, over the fence of the district. Nobody ventures that far except the Covey. Coriolanus and Sejanus only found out about its existence due to their connection with Lucy Gray.
He remembered all the moments he spent there with the Covey. It would be a good place for Lucy Gray to perish. Around all the greens and the music of mockingjays inside the forest.
“I'll meet you there tomorrow in the morning with supplies,” he said, holding Lucy Gray's hand, even giving it a friendly squeeze. He was afraid he was overselling the act but Lucy Gray was too sad to notice how over-the-top friendly Coriolanus was acting.
Lucy Gray nods and turns to leave. Her legs were shaky as she walked. Sejanus and Lucy Gray had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons. But everyone would point at her for the mayor’s daughter's death. It didn't end with Sejanus Plinths' death. It won't because the mayor is trying to root out every single rebel, and surely he won't keep alive the girl his daughter hated so much.
Coriolanus finds his way back to the base. It's night by the time he returns. He climbs up the stairs and walks down the hallway to reach your room. He knocks and waits for you to open the door.
You do.
Coryo tried his best not to get distracted at the sight of you. You were looking so pretty. You look beautiful to him all the time. “Hi,” he gasps out.
“Hey,” you smile, giving him space to walk inside the room. Peacekeepers knew by now that something was going on between him and you. They knew better than to gossip about it though. It was clear you had the power to do anything you wanted. And everyone knew not to mess with someone from the Capitol.
That is why Coriolanus knew even if he spent the night here. He won't get in trouble. He pulls off his Peacekeeper uniform and wears one of the big, oversized sweatshirts you bought from the Capitol. The softness of the fabric makes him shy. He felt like a boy again. It was a feeling he never thought he would enjoy. For a moment, he could pretend he was in the Capitol, in his home, before the games had ever happened.
“You look comfy,” you tease him, as you find your home in his arms.
“I am,” he murmurs, his lips kissing your temple.
“I talked to Lucy Gray,” he informs you, “You were right. She's going to the north and she'll stay in the cabin for the night.”
“Hmm,” you hum, as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft kisses to his pulse. Your arms around him, and his arms around you. Both of you caging each other. The heat of both of your bodies mingled into a pleasant warmth.
“Well, then my revolver will come in handy soon,” you whispered, a bit tired.
“They let you bring one here?” He questions.
“Special privileges,” you replied.
Any other day Coriolanus would feel jealousy pulling at his heart, a frown formatting on his face. Today, he just… didn't care. He didn't care that you had more benefits than him. He didn't care that you lived better than him.
You're his.
Could anything be better than that?
He doesn't think so.
“Typical,” he said, his head now on your shoulders.
“Uh huh,” you add, “Stay the night.”
“Of course, dove.”
You lay down on the bed beside him. His arm was thrown over your waist, and your legs tangled with him. You gently let your nails scratch at his buzz cut. He sighs, relaxing from your touch.
“Tomorrow is a big day,” you remind him, “We'll have to finish everything by noon and catch the train in the evening.”
“We?” He questioned.
“I talked with Dr. Gaul,” you revealed, a bit hesitant, “She wants you back.” You frown, “Don't let the news deter from our plan Coriolanus, it's important we leave no strings behind.”
Coriolanus blinks, trying to take in your words. A smile splits on his face. He couldn't believe this, he had thought he would have to wait for months before Dr. Gaul let him get back to the Capitol. Snow thought she would be petty like that. But you somehow managed to convince her otherwise. It was shocking, to say the least.
“I will go to the Capitol with you tomorrow,” he said. He repeats, “I'll go to the Capitol with you tomorrow!”
You giggled, “Yes, Coriolanus. You thought I would leave you behind? It took some… it doesn't matter. We'll have our happily ever after.”
“I can't believe it,” he whispers, his eyes shining with joy, even with the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes sparkling.
“You should,” you whispered, “now sleep, darling. It's a big day tomorrow.”
Coriolanus couldn't believe it. He pressed your lips against yours. “Thank you,” he lets out, “I love you.” Coriolanus takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your wrist, on the number tattooed on your skin. “I love you, my dove,” he whispered.
“I love you too, pretty boy,” you whispered.
Coriolanus pulls impossible closer as if he were trying to mold both of your souls together. “I am glad you're mine,” he said. He kissed your forehead. “You're mine forever,” he whispered, a hint of darkness, and obsession creeping into his voice.
It made you bite your lower lip as you heard the possessiveness in his voice. “I know,” you replied, “You're mine too.” You add, your voice muffled as your face was pressed into his chest, “Nobody can take you away from me ever again.”
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
In the morning, both of you quietly wake up in each other's arms. Coriolanus yawns, “Good morning, dove.” You hum something Coriolanus couldn't hear in reply.
It was so early that the sun had just begun to rise. However, he could hear the sound of rain. Coriolanus quickly gets out of the bed. He softly pats you on the cheek, smiling as you continue to fight the battle against sleep.
“See you soon,” he whispered, taking the revolver you had in your drawer and walking out of the room. He finds himself on his bunk bed, everyone else is sleeping, and he quickly begins to pack things inside of his bags. The supplies he told Lucy Gray about. When he is done, he briefly stops by in front of Sejanus Plinth's bed.
There was a box in which Sejanus Plinth kept his belongings. Coriolanus opens it to find letters, medicine, and two photos. One of Lucy Gray. Another was of Coriolanus and Sejanus, a photo taken from the time during the broadcast of the 10th Games. It seemed like yesterday.
Coriolanus Snow had no explanation for the tears that fell down his cheeks. Sejanus Plinth was dead. Snow had given Dr. Gaul the gun, and you made her pull the trigger. It's in her hands the blood of Sejanus truly was. Not on him nor you.
Coriolanus wipes his tears away. “She's coming soon to you, buddy,” he whispered to the picture. He wondered if Sejanus would thank him for his next actions, or curse him. Coriolanus doesn't think about it much, he leaves.
Soon enough, he reaches the cabin. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out. Lucy Gray opens the door, giving Coriolanus a polite smile. Lucy Gray lets him inside. He enters, looking around the old cabin he has been inside of many times. Coriolanus sets his bag down. Wondering about what he should do next. Should he wait for you? Should he take out the gun and shoot now?
Before he can decide his next actions, Lucy Gray pulls out a knife. “I think I’ll go dig up some Katniss since we got the fire going anyway. There’s a good patch by the lake.”
“I thought they weren’t ready,” he said. Katniss was another word for swamp potato. It grew around here, but just a few days ago Lucy Gray told him it wasn't ready for harvest.
“Two weeks can make a lot of difference,” she said.
“It’s raining,” he objected. “You’ll get soaked.”
She replied, “Well, I’m not made of sugar.”
Coriolanus lets her walk outside. It was a form of mercy, trying to give her some time to run. He knew that Lucy Gray's survival instincts were good. That was the only reason she had survived the arena.
But she won't be able to survive him.
Coriolanus follows her trail after a moment passes. She wasn't down the lake as she promised, but her footsteps were towards the forest. Coriolanus smirks as he takes the revolver out, and gets the gun ready for a shot.
“Let the hunger games begin,” he whispered, “may the odds be in your favor.”
Coriolanus continues to follow her trail quietly and quickly, using the training of being a Peacekeeper. His gun pointed in front of him, ready to be shot the moment he saw her. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out, his voice warm as if he wasn't going to murder, “Where are you? We need to leave soon.”
“Lucy Gray!” He turns when he hears footsteps and shoots, hoping not to miss. The shot met with flesh, the sound booming in his ear, much more overwhelming than the tap tap of the rain. He walks towards the body that is now in front of him. Red blood mixed with the rainwater on the ground, staining the greenery around them.
He shot her right in the chest.
Lucy Gray was dead.
She joined Sejanus Plinth in the afterlife and will spend the rest of eternity cursing Coriolanus. Snow couldn't find himself to clear. He felt relieved. No one can drag him down now. The only way for him was to climb the ladder and reach the peak. Coriolanus uses his feet to turn her dead body around. There was blood dripping down her lips, her dress red and her were nearly closed. She was nothing more than a dead body. Gone was the songbird.
Now it was time to get rid of the body.
He was grateful that the rain would cover the tracks. But he had to be careful as it was easy to slip and get hurt himself. He drags the body without any rush, he thinks of you, waiting in the cabin for him to come back. Both of you will go back to the Capitol. Snow will be together with his family, in the future you'll also become his family. Everything was going to be fine.
This was nothing but a simple stepping stone.
He could feel his arms getting tired but he continued to drag the body by her arms until he reached the edge of the lake. There was a boat. He wondered briefly if he should just take her on the boat and cross to the middle of the river to let her drown. But decided that it would be too much trouble, and pushed her to the river. A big splash occurs. And he could see Lucy Gray slowly but surely falling to her end.
Lucy Gray was gone from this world forever.
He throws the revolver into the river as well. The body would decompose in a matter of days. Everyone would think of her as a traitor. Even if the Covey comes to visit the lake again, they'll never know it's their beloved Lucy Gray's grave.
Coriolanus Snow reaches the cabin and opens the door to see you holding a Peacekeeper’s gun. The same gun he had used to shoot Mayfair and Billy Taupe. “Guess Spruce hid it here,” you grin at him. You were slightly wet from the rain, unlike him, he was soaking wet.
“Yeah,” he lets out, his shoulders relaxed, his face mirroring your smile. “We'll have to throw those in the lake too.”
You chuckled, “Let's not leave any stones unturned.”
Coryo couldn't take it anymore, the adrenaline was too much. “We won't,” he said, as he walked towards you until your back was on the wall. He takes the gun from you and throws it to the side. Neither of you flinch from the loud noise, the two of you too focused on each other instead. He closes the space between the both of you.
“But for now, I want you,” he adds, “No- that's not right. I need you, here.”
He doesn't wait for a reply. He crashed his lips to yours. You find yourself kissing him back. Your tongue exploring his mouth, he sucks at your bottom lip. Not caring that his teeth are digging into your flesh too harshly, that he's responsible for the coppery taste that occurs while you continue kissing.
“You sure?” You gasp as you break the kiss. A string of saliva connecting you both. Coriolanus doesn't reply, he finds his solace from the taste of your skin. He pressed his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing down your pulse. You softly moan, tilting your head to give him more access.
Coryo takes full advantage of that. He was going to claim you any way that he could. Carving his initials on your skin wasn't the only way after all. Cumming inside of you, giving your pretty red hickeys, the print of his fingers on your hips, even the soulmate tattoo you have on your wrist. All these are ways for him to fucking own you.
And own you he shall.
He bites onto your neck as if trying to tear out your flesh. He wants to consume you, soul and all. You cry out, your back arching. Your hips meet his, and he presses his hard bulge against you. He finds himself in between your legs. Your clothed cunt against his denim-cladded cock. You begin to grind against him, as he continues the assault on your neck.
The teeth mark he placed on your skin will remain for days. It will bruise on doubt. Coriolanus didn't have it in him right now to be gentle. He was too fucking drunk on you for that. All of his desires were rushing through, breaking his walls and overwhelming his mind.
“Fuck,” he curses as he realized his lips are red from your blood. His bites had broken your skin and now tiny droplets of blood were forming. He licks them all up and murmurs an apology. He pressed his lips on yours, painting your lips the same shade as his and making you taste yourself. His hips had slowed down the grinding against you.
He steps back and begins to undress. He lets his t-shirt and jeans fall to the ground. He takes his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. He grips the base of length, trying to control himself as he watches you follow suit.
He pulls you against him again and nods his head towards the floor. You understand his intention and lay down. He bites his lip, sudden nerves overcoming him. He doesn't know what to do despite the raunchy stories he has heard from his fellow Peacekeepers.
Is he supposed to hold your hand or your hips? Should he just push in? Isn't he supposed to prep you first? Or are you wet enough? Fuck… it wasn't the first time he was intimate with you. He hadn't gone all the way but he was familiar with your body. But most of the time he was overwhelmed with his desire to think about what to do or not to do. This time his mind was clear, he was focusing solely on you and he wanted you to experience nothing less of ecstasy from his touch.
“Coryo?” you question, bringing him out of his internal monologue. “Is there anything wrong?”
“I-” he doesn't want to admit, but he knows he has to, “I don't know what to do right now.”
“You can do whatever you like. I'll tell you if you mess up, sweetheart.”
“I know,” he sighs, his eyes on your tits, he licks his lips, “but I am-” He swallows, trying to explain, “I want you. I don't know how to take you. Everything feels like too much or too little.”
You sit up. You gently cradle his cheeks in your hands. “We have all the time in the world, Coryo. What do you wanna do first?”
“I-” He doesn't form a full sentence, instead he kisses you. His hand is on your nape and another trailing down your body as he softly nips at your lips. He dips down his hand in between your legs, he pressed his palm onto your cunt. He lets himself be coated by your arousal. His breath hitches as he feels your heat in such an obscene way.
“Oh,” he whispered as he pressed a single finger inside of your walls. “I missed this.” He remembers the night when he first felt your tight, slick walls like this. He was rough that night, a bit mean too. Coriolanus wasn't going to be the same today. He plans to worship you.
He begins to slowly thrust his index finger inside of you. His head on your shoulder, his lips kissing any inch of skin he could find as he continues to stretch you out with a single finger. Then he adds another one, he was met with resistance, but he pressed his thumb to your clit. That makes you gasp, your cunt squeezing around his fingers when his thumb begins to draw small circles on the bud.
“Relax, dove,” he whispered, giving you goosebumps.
He doesn't begin to move his fingers even when you whine impatiently, your walls twitching around his digits. Once he deems that you're relaxed enough, he begins to slowly push inside of your pussy, as deep as his fingers could reach. He was trying his best to get you ready for his cock.
His fingertips begin to press into your walls, trying to find that one spot that would get you drunk on him as much as he's drunk on you. He knows he found the spot when he feels your walls pulse around his digits like it had a heartbeat of its own. You gasp his name and he smirks. He whispers to your ear, “That's it, huh?”
“Yes!” You moan, “Faster!”
Coriolanus Snow obeys because he can never say no to you. He begins to fuck his fingers inside of you faster, slipping his ring finger inside of you as well. He thrusts his digits fast and hard, he groans as he sees your pussy stretched to accommodate his long digits. He keeps his fingers slightly curved so that with each thrust he would press into your g-spot.
“Fuck, fuck, you're so pretty.”
Coriolanus couldn't be sure if he was saying that to you, or your cunt. He continues to keep up his speed, the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy louder than of the rain. Coriolanus could hear you moan his name as he feels your pussy get impossibly tighter around his digits before your walls begin to spasm all over, locking his digits in. He doesn't pull them out, instead, he continues to press hard onto your spongy pleasure spot until you whine his name.
Your juices were now all over his fingers. He didn't waste a second to taste them. He looks into your eyes as he licks his digits clean. He runs his tongue between the spaces of his fingers, making sure he doesn't miss a single spot. When he's done, you pull him in for a kiss. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, you find yourself in his lap, his back pressed to the wooden floor.
Your hand pulls at the dog tag he wore. You use the necklace like a leash, pulling at it like he's a dog you're commanding. You wrap your fingers around it, your thumb caressing the metal pendant. “You're mine,” you whispered in wonder, “You taste of me.”
Coriolanus nods, agreeing to whatever you say. He just wants you! That's it. Ruin him. Ruin him for everybody else forever! You have that power. Take it and use it, that's all he wants.
You raise your hips, taking his cock in your hand. You pressed his tip against your clit, you gasped as you slowly began to rub his cockhead against your pearl. His pre-cum coating your bud, and soon all over your cunt. You were teasing him every time you let his cockhead get near your slit, but you don't let him slip inside of you. He lets out a whimper when you do it again.
Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyan
“Please-” he whines, “stop teasing.”
“Make me,” you smirk.
Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyance as if in retaliation he kisses you roughly.
“Don't-” kiss, “Play-,” kiss, “With-” kiss, “Me.”
“Not when I have waited for you for so long,” he adds.
His fingers pressed into your flesh. He gets a hold of his length and pressed it to your slit. “Can I?” He asked you, he wanted your permission. He needs your ‘yes’ before he takes you as his forever.
“Of course, Coryo.”
He begins to push in his tip, his length slipping inside of you with ease. He gasps as he feels your warmth all over his cock. The feeling is so overwhelming that he has to stop midway to not cum right away. He squeezed the base of his dick before he continued to push inside of you again, slowly inch by inch. He breathes through his mouth, his eyes closed as pleasure fills every corner of his mind. You felt perfect.
“You feel so good,” he whines.
His cock twitched inside of your walls. He bites the inside of his mouth, trying to use pain to distract himself from the mind-blowing pleasure. Meanwhile, you clenched your pussy as if to see how much his cock had stretched you. The two of you gasped from the feeling.
“Fuc- ah!”
Coryo pulls out a few of his inches and begins to thrust in. You moan out, feeling pleasure in your veins and seeing stars in your eyes. Snow's hands were on either side of your head as he balanced himself above you. His dog tag dangles in front of your lips as his hips continue to move. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his cock even deeper into you. Coriolanus lets out a groan from the feeling.
“I won't be able to last long,” he admits, his cheeks getting red. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't help but feel ashamed about how heavy his balls were with cum ready to be released inside of you.
“You will,” you whispered your hand on his nape. You squeeze it. “You will last as long as I fucking want, Coriolanus,” you said to him, pulling him down to meet your lips. The kiss was messy and open-mouthed. Another hand of yours was on his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. You were marking him in your own way. With long, red scratches.
Coriolanus slows down, ready to please you however you want. You moan into his mouth and he eats the sound up. Coriolanus thrusts his hips faster, unable to truly control himself. How could he when you made him feel this good? He couldn't decide on the pace. He wanted this to last hours. He wanted to cum.
He kept switching between fast and slow until he found himself with his back on the floor. You are on top of him, your hands holding his hands above his head. “Be a good boy,” you said to him before you began to ride him.
You grind yourself against his cock, letting his cockhead kiss your spongy spot with each movement of your hips. Your arousal was coating your thighs and now it was on his skin as well. You were so wet and messy. Coriolanus loved it. You use one hand of yours to play with his balls. Coriolanus could feel his eyes rolling back.
“Don't- I-” he cries out in bliss when you squeeze his balls gently. You hush him with a kiss, your hips moving according to your will. You had set the perfect pace. It wasn't too much for either of you, letting the pleasure be prolonged.
He knew you were close with the way your push was contracting on his shaft. He knew you were close because your eyes were closed and fuck, you were cock drunk on him. He knew you were close because you had slowed down, and now rocking your hips back and forth. The hold you had on his hands had loosened. He breaks free without a fuss and places his hands on your hips.
He begins to push his hips up, fucking his cock into you. You whine, your eyes opening as you see him take control again. His teeth pulled at his lower lip, silencing his groans as he continues to fuck into you in this position. You use one of your hands to rub at your sensitive clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.
You tense, your pussy tightening around Coriolanus’ cock. Your only warning was the moan of his name as your cunt begins to spasm around his dick. Coriolanus lets out a deep groan, his lower lip bloody from how hard his teeth dug into the flesh. He fucks you throughout your orgasm.
“Get off,” he whines, “I can't cum inside of you.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Coriolanus doesn't realize he's coming inside of you until he feels like jelly. He had stuffed you full of his thick, hot cum without a warning. But you had already stated you didn't give a fuck. So he supposed it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had you now.
Forever.
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
Hours later, you and Coriolanus find yourself at the train station. Ready to go back to the Capitol, once and for all. Commander Hoff had personally come to escort you both.
Coriolanus was about to enter the train. You were already inside. But Commander Hoff stops him, “Son.” Coriolanus stills, waiting to hear what Hoff has to say.
“Don't let her go. You don't know what she had to keep you safe.”
Coriolanus looks Commander Hoff in the eyes and nods. “I won't,” he promises, knowing damn well he will keep it with his life. Coriolanus gets inside the train after saying goodbye. He stops before he opens the door to the cabin you were sitting in. He pulls up the sleeve of his shirt to look at his wrist. He grins as he sees the scar reverted to the number most important to you.
It was today's date.
Coriolanus slides the door and walks to his future.
Coriolanus walks to you.
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The Bitter Taste Of My Fury (Part 4) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut
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GIF is not mine, credits to the creator/owner ❤️
Outline: After a vicious attack from the rebels, Coriolanus lets some of his true feelings for you show.
Word count: 5’133
Warnings: death, murder, PTSD and explicit smut.
Author’s note: I wrote this forever ago and can’t seem to be 100% satisfied with it for some reason, I’m feeling awfully self conscious putting this out so please have mercy on me.
I made a few changes to the original story so that it would fit with my fanfic. (Making the quarter quell for which they sent two boys and two girls the 25th one instead of the 50th so that Coriolanus and his wife’s ages would fit into my plot.) I tried to make it readable as a one shot but keep in mind that it’s actually part of a multi-part series if you need/want more context.
It would help me out a lot with my next WIPs if you could answer the poll down below 🖤
((Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler)) - ((Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top)) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable))
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Coriolanus risked a glance from behind the black curtain to survey the large amphitheater quickly - and noisily - filling up. It was his last speech before the day of the election, his last opportunity to convince the people of Panem that he would be a good president. He had been working on his text for weeks, the last few days he had even stayed up all night to practice and memorize it to the point that the words were constantly turning in his head. He was nervous and, even if he usually was pretty good at hiding it - he felt like all the citizens taking place in the room to listen to him would notice how much he was afraid of messing up.
“You’re supposed to go on stage in five minutes.” Minerva said, Coriolanus’s young assistant was stressed out, as per usual. “Excuse me Sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that your wife isn’t here… Yet ?”
The last time Coriolanus had seen you, you both got into an argument which ended with him, fucking you rougher than what he ever allowed himself to until then. Once he was done with you, you still seemed upset with him and the reason of the dispute still grated on his nerves. For the three following days, he had spent his nights at his office. He had been mulling over what your strong feelings about such a futile matter might mean. He had expected you to be unhappy with his decision to fire Marius, your driver, but he hadn’t thought you’d be so vocal about it, even daring to demand that he be rehired. He had fired a lot of his employees in the past and you had never complained about it once, but your personal driver seemed more important to you than all the others… Was it because you had an affair with him ? Was he the one to provide you with comfort and attention whenever Coriolanus worked late ? And what if he was the one who ended up getting you pregnant ? Surely he couldn’t accept that. His heir needed to be his.
“I sent Alastair to get her an hour ago, they should arrive any minute now.” He replied, his tone unexpectedly soft in contrast to his growing irritation. But he had faith that his own driver would drag you out of the manor himself if you refused to attend such an important event for your husband.
Coriolanus glanced in the amphitheater once again, scanning the crowd in search of your familiar face but still didn’t find it. He tugged on his collar, feeling more stressed than ever before. He knew every word to his speech, he knew exactly how to behave, how to move, how to smile to win this once and for all and yet, beads of nervous sweat were forming on his forehead, his tie suddenly too constricting for his rapid breathing.
When Minerva waved a hand at him, he had no choice but to take his place at the center of the stage, even if he still hadn’t spotted you among the crowd. It was unlikely of you to be late. And even less likely that his driver would be late… The applause and cheers from his audience as he walked out from behind the black curtain almost made him forget about it all though. For a brief moment, he felt the adrenaline buzzing in his body, making him believe that he was capable of anything and proving yet again that his place was there, on stage, at the center of everyone’s admirative attention.
He smiled, waved, spotted a few influential people seating in the first rows and made sure to make eye contact with each of them as he started his speech. His best one.
But no matter how perfect his tone was, how carefully chosen his words were, the crowd slowly began to grow agitated. A few heads turned to take a look at the doors, some noise coming from behind them and before he could even fathom what had happened, an intense blow pushed him back, making his ears ring.
The loud explosion made the foundations of the ampitheater tremble, windows shattered, pieces of the ceiling came crushing to the ground but the chaos that followed was by far the scariest part. People screamed in terror, rushing in every direction to get out, pushing and stepping over each other with no decorum left, the crowd had turned into a bunch of frightened animals and they all were individually fighting for their lives.
A door was opened and a thick dark smoke rapidly filled the room, making everyone cough and scream louder. Coriolanus pulled his collar over his mouth and nose, trying to filter the smoke he’d inhale and retreated behind the black curtain, knowing there would be a door for him to escape much more easily there, out of the frenzy and chaos of the crowd.
He rushed to the back, fleeing by the concealed door while his people kept fighting to escape the suffocating smoke. He looked around, trying to get his thoughts back in order to come up with a plan, he needed to find a way to warn your driver about what had happened, so that he could avoid bringing you straight into danger. Better yet, he could drive you far away from it.
He walked in hurried steps while the people who had managed to escape ran away, the magnificent and imposing capitol building menacing to completely shatter and tumble down into dust. Leaving and reaching the street outside was the best course of action to ensure his safety, but a part of him with visibly no instinct of survival, remained determined to look around in search of a phone or whatever device he could use to warn you. To make sure you’d be safe.
He reached the front desk of the town hall, searching among the fallen bricks and thick layers of rubble with the hope to find something that would work to contact your driver…
Alastair ?
Coriolanus blinked a few times, stopping his frenetic search of the desk to stare at the silhouette running to the doors, recognizing the bald head and small frame of his driver.
“Alastair ?!” He called, as loud as he could to be heard above the distant screams and cries. The man turned around to look at him, fear appearing in his eyes when he recognized his boss… So he kept running.
Coriolanus took off after him, his tall legs giving him a clear advantage to catch up on the older man. He pushed him aside, grabbing him by his collar and slammed him against a dangerously unstable pillar.
“Where is my wife ?” He asked, leveling his face with his so that he could stare at him with his most menacing look.
“The rebels, they attacked… It was an explosion.” Alastair mumbled, inconherently. Coriolanus purposely slammed him against the hard surface again, hoping the shock it caused to his head would bring him back to his senses.
“WHERE IS MY WIFE ?!” He shouted, making it clear that if he had to ask again he might knock him unconscious instead.
“I don’t know, it exploded… The smoke… I ran.”
“You left her ?!” Your husband asked him, rage dangerously starting to take over at the realization that the one he had trusted with your security had so easily left you behind to save his own life.
“I have a family.” Alastair justified, his voice weakening and his breathing coming out raucous and labored. What was that supposed to mean ? That he was more important than you because he had children ? Was he implying that you didn’t deserve to live as much as he did because you hadn’t gave him a heir yet ?
Coriolanus’s gaze fell to his hands, the ones he was holding tightly around his driver’s neck, squeezing with all the strength of his rage. The older man started choking, tried to fight his employer off but he wasn’t strong enough and the shock of the whole situation didn’t help him think rationally enough to hope win this fight for his life.
Tighter.
Alastair’s face became alarmingly pale.
Tighter.
Alastair’s lips turned blue.
Tighter.
Alastair’s body dropped down on the floor.
Dead.
Coriolanus took a step back, watching the limp figure on the ground with clear disgust but he wasn’t sure if he felt it because Alastair had abandoned you or for himself, for adding someone else’s blood to his already stained hands.
There was no time to ponder his actions anyway. The judgment of his morals would have to wait until he found you and got you to safety. It was all that mattered. So, while people were still running out of the falling apart building, he ran back in, straight towards the thick smoke.
He called your name, so desperate to hear your voice answering him but the fleeing crowd was way too loud and agitated for him to hope hearing it and let it lead him to you. But he kept shouting anyway.
Some of his employees found him, tried to convince him to turn around and leave before the ceiling would collapse on him but he refused, determined to find you, even with the smoke burning his lungs and irritating his eyes.
His head was spinning, if the first people he had ran into were wearing their formal attire, slowly he started recognizing the red academy uniforms he used to wear every day. Then, he noticed the colors of a rainbow dress, fading in the thick smoke in front of him. A long time ago, the person wearing it had ran to him to save him from a similar situation, now she seemed to be running away, impossible for him to catch.
Was she the one who had led this violent attack against him ? And now she was here, running around the debris like an untouchable wild animal just to taunt him ? Of course she did. All she ever wanted was to end him. Ruin his life. Ruin everything.
Real or not, he followed her path, desperate to see where she would lead him. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him though, the feeling of being an eighteen years old boy who knew nothing about anything anymore. A naive man, who thought his survival depended on other people rather than on himself.
“Coryo…” Your voice called, answering his calls.
He perked up with a renewed determination to make his way through the smoke and find you. Rainbow colors and blood red uniforms faded from his vision. You were close, so he kept shouting your name, frantically searching around him until he collided against you.
He knew your body well enough by now to instantly recognize you, no one fitted in his arms the way you did. He looked down at you, trying to decipher wether you were injured or not but the dust covering your skin and hair made it hard to spot any trace of blood. He turned around, wanting to go back on his footsteps now that your hand was secured in his but he stopped when he noticed you could barely keep up, limping and coughing after each wince of pain that deformed your face.
Without a word, he came back to you and picked you up, carrying you in his arms even if his lungs were about to give up too. If he was going to die today, so be it but not before he got you out of there.
A plea for help resounded next to you, the barely visible shape of a woman stuck under a heavy pillar outstretching an arm in your direction, begging for her life. Coriolanus looked at her but kept walking, collateral damages were inevitable.
Finally, the smoke started dissipating, replaced by fresh air that burned your lungs in an entirely different way. A large crowd had formed in the street, kept at good distance from the collapsing building by peacekeepers. Many pairs of curious eyes turned to you, recognizing the presidential candidate heroically carrying his wife away from a vicious rebel attack. Some peacekeepers approached, freeing your husband’s arms to carry you to safety. They brought you to a medical tent that had been set up, where professionals and volunteers were running around, trying to care for the many injured and wounded victims.
An oxygen mask was placed on your face, providing you with the air you so desperately needed while a young woman tried to make you as comfortable as possible despite her apparent overwhelm.
“I’ll find some oxygen for you too, Sir.” She promised Coriolanus but he shook his head, refusing.
“Take care of my wife first.” He asked, and the woman nodded before scurrying away.
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Time seemed to slow down as Coriolanus spent countless hours in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching over you, making sure you were taken well care of and mulling over his thirst for revenge. The rebels had crossed a line with this attack, they were clearly targeting him - and you - with it and that was simply unacceptable. His desire to become the new president of Panem was consuming him more than ever, thinking about the possibilities such a position would offer him to retaliate in kind against the districts. He could order the troops to bomb them, erase them from the map and the surface of the earth. He could decide of the fate of the very ones who committed the crime to try and kill him, he could set an example of what doom would be brought upon anyone who ever tried to hurt a Snow again… But he wasn’t president, yet.
However, his position as head gamemaker of the Hunger Games gave him quite a unique chance to keep the districts in check and remind them who truly held the power, after all, he had learned all the tricks from Doctor Gaul during the few years he had been working for her. He knew the only way to get his message to the rebels would be to answer in kind and make sure they’d know the fear of potentially loosing someone precious to them too…
A few days later, the doctors cleared you to go home so he decided to go back to his office and put his plan in motion.
As soon as he sat behind his desk, Minerva entered his office, holding a large file against her chest.
“I received the official report of the incident.” She announced, handing him the paper. He flipped the pages, brows furrowed and eyes rapidly darting across each paragraph.
“Twenty four deaths… And counting.” He read out loud.
“And I’m very sorry to tell you that I was informed that Alastair is among the victims.” She told him, which caused him to look at her, gravity etched on his face.
He had the perfect reaction. Not too emotional. Still professional. Believable.
“Do we know what happened to him exactly ?”
“The coroner said he died of asphyxiation from the smoke, like many others unfortunately.”
“It’s unfortunate indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, with a forced frown. “Make sure to send our condolences to his family.”
“Of course, Sir.” His assistant said, taking notes. “Anything else i can do ?”
“Yes… Call the press, I have an important announcement to make.” He stated, still more determined than ever to make everyone involved pay for what they did.
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“And now, a message from Coriolanus Snow, head gamemaker of the Hunger Games and candidate for presidency.” The news anchor announced, as the camera zoomed in on your husband’s tired face, his brow furrowed and severity marking his traits.
“On Friday, people of the Capitol were the target of a terrible attack from an outlawed and violent group of radical people. We’ve lost precious lives and many of our citizens were gravely wounded during the attack.” Coriolanus spoke, solemnly, as the cameras shifted between different point of views of him. His voice was calm despite the rage displayed on his face. “Therefor, in retaliation, as head gamemaker, I have decided to make the 25th edition of the Hunger Games one that will remind everyone of the Capitol’s power… For this first quarter quell, each district will be required to send two boys and two girls into the arena.”
You watched your husband’s press conference on the television in the quiet and lonely living room of the manor, jaw dropping at his announcement. Was he taking advantage of the attack to give a lesson to the district, show his almighty power and advance his presidential campaign by gaining the Capitol’s support ? Or was he seeking out revenge for you ? Your chest tightened at the thought, could he care about you enough to be doing this for you ? Imagining you could be one of the reasons - among a thousand more important ones - for the punishment he decided to impose on the districts made your heart beat faster. With a husband so shy for words, a gesture like this one would speak volumes about how he truly felt.
You reached for the remote with a wince and turned the TV off, plunging the living room in darkness apart from the faint light coming from the crackling fire in the chimney. You stood with another wince, silently cursing at the doctors for sending you home without any meds to manage the pain you still felt so vividly in your body. If you had been a simple citizen, surely they would have kept you there longer, made sure that you were fully healed before letting you leave the private sector of the Capitol’s hospital but since the crowd of reporters, cameras and photographers was increasing with each passing day by the entrance of the hospital, they took the decision to send you home. Officially, it was meant to reassure Panem about the health of their potential future First Lady, show them you were as strong and courageous as your husband. But really, they just wanted to get rid of the public disturbing their other patients‘ peace.
You climbed the stairs leading to your bedroom slowly, and then sat at your vanity with a sigh. The reflection in front of you didn’t do justice to how you really felt. As soon as you had been discharged, a team invaded your room to make you look as flawless as you were always supposed to be, taking care of your hair, your makeup, your clothes, hiding any trace of the attack so that you could walk out, dazzling and smiling for the cameras. And of course you did just that. You managed to answer a few questions shouted at you with elegance and respect , offering sympathy to the ones who had suffered more than you did , smiling as some children handed you flowers and holding your head high just to let the rebels know that it would take more than this to bring Mrs Snow down.
But deep inside, you were a wreck. Images of the attack kept popping in your mind, you could still smell the smoke, feel it filling your lungs, suffocating you. You could still hear the screams, the cries, the shouts and the explosions. You could still feel the sharp pain in your shoulder when the column behind you collapsed and a heavy piece of marble hit you. You still had the bruises and the scratches on your skin from all the debris that flew in your face, even if they currently were hidden under a thick layer of makeup.
You slowly took it all off with a wipe, feeling almost relieved at the sight of the purple mark on your cheek and the other one on your neck, like a validation that you weren’t feeling so bad for nothing. You reached up to untie the sophisticated hairdo your beauty team had insisted on doing, but the sharp pain in your shoulder combined to the stiffness of your neck made it impossible to take more than two pins out before having to bring your arms down and take a deep breath to try and soothe the pain.
You had always considered yourself lucky to have such a big team of talented people to prepare you for every event you had to attend, sometimes they even got you ready and looking your best for simple shopping trips or private dinners if they expected you to be followed by reporters and photographers. But then, once the lights were out, the crowd long gone and the cameras pointed somewhere else, once you were back in the privacy and loneliness of your own home, then there wasn’t anyone to help you take off all this attire and help you be yourself again.
You were about to give up. At the moment, sleeping with twenty pins stabbing your scalp didn’t seem merely as painful as lifting your arm again did. But a movement in your mirror caught your attention. You lifted your eyes to the reflection, noticing a white silhouette, almost glowing in contrast to the darkness of your room, standing by the door, big blue eyes set on you.
You observed him quietly for a moment, unsure if he was really there or if it was yet another trick your mind was playing on you. Because you had a lot of visions of him lately. His face appearing in thick smoke. His voice shouting your name. His arms carrying you out of the chaos. His hand holding yours in the cold hospital room… You weren’t sure which memories were real or not. You couldn’t tell if he really had been by your side at the hospital this whole time or if you had just imagined his presence to reassure yourself. Were you imagining him there again so you wouldn’t feel so desperately lonely ?
“Let me help you with that.” He said, his tone softer than usual. He took the few steps in your direction, stopping behind you. You watched in the mirror as his fingers wandered in your hair in search of pins to take off, letting locks of hair fall down on your shoulders each time he removed one.
His touch was real. The heat you felt coming from his chest and radiating on your back was real. The expression of worry on his face every time he met your gaze in the reflection was real. He was real.
And instead of reassuring you like you thought it would, you suddenly felt invaded in your privacy to have him here, in your bedroom for the very first time. He shouldn’t see you like this, with your makeup off and your hair down, the bruises and the sorrow all too visible on your face. This wasn’t the image of the wife he had asked for. The wife who he wanted to impregnate. It was a pathetic reflection of a wounded and scared girl, wondering if she’ll ever be able to recover from such an horrific incident.
“I didn’t leave the hospital looking like this.” You felt compelled to say to justify how you looked in front of him, uncomfortable at the thought that it was the very first time he’d see you as you really were.
“I know, I watched the news from my office.” He simply said, focusing on finding the few last pins still tugging at your hair.
“And I watched your press conference.”
“What do you think about my idea for the quarter quell ?” His pale eyes found yours, silently gauging your reaction.
“I think a lot of people will love it, it’ll probably gain you many votes for the next round…”
“Probably but I meant what do you think about it ? Will it be a clear enough message to the districts that there will be hell to pay if they ever even think about hurting us again ?” He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Do you think all of Panem will now know that nobody hurts my wife without meeting the consequences ?”
You left out a breath, shocked by the rage you saw burning in his usually charming eyes. Either he was masterfully manipulative, wanting to make you believe that the decision he took to hold special games in retaliation was to avenge you, while it was, in fact, all about his career first. Either he really had done it for you, and the implications of such a revelation in regards to his true feelings for you were as terrifying to you as the first hypothesis was.
He remained quiet, removing his hands from your hair once he had pulled out the last pin and reached down to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down with his pale eyes fixed to yours in the mirror.
Your breath caught in your throat. Was he trying to help you ? The zipper being in your back, you probably would have struggled to reach it, but the way he was taking care of it, so torturously slow, the tip of his fingers grazing the soft skin he revealed on his path made you question his true motives.
He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your neck, exactly where your heart started pulsing wildly in reaction. He pulled the fabric of your dress down, until it pooled around your hips. You saw him take a look at your reflection in front of him, the sight of the bruise on your chest and the other one over your clavicle setting his fury ablaze. He balled his fists tightly, as if he was trying to contain himself so you turned around to face him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
You didn’t dare consider that the reason for his anger was because he cared about you enough… But the way he relaxed into your touch made you wonder if you should.
He kissed your lips. Softly. Gently. Almost reverently, as if he was taking the full measure of what he could have been deprived of for the rest of his life with a different outcome of the events of that night.
“I will kill them.” He declared, a cold determination in his tone you had never heard from him before. “I’ll kill every single person responsible for this.”
He moved his fingers over the purple bruise on your chest, a featherlight touch that still caused you a sting of pain, to mark his words.
You remembered a quote you had studied in school, it said something like “pain is the only thing that makes us feel alive.” And, since it was written in your book and taught by your professor, you had always considered it to be true… Until now. Now you knew that there wasn’t anything else on earth that could possibly make you feel more alive than Coriolanus Snow and the way he kissed you, touched you and filled you up. And no pain would be able to stop your determination of feeling alive tonight. Maybe his way to cope from the attack was to hunger for violence and blood, but yours was to live.
You leaned towards him and kissed him with more fervor than he did. He returned the kiss but kept some restraint from the usually hungry and rough way you were used to having him.
“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, against your lips. “Not when you’re hurt and still recovering.”
“I’m not made of sugar.” You assured him, with a soft smile but he didn’t return it, moving away to look at you like he had seen a ghost. Did he have flashbacks of the attack too ? Or something else ? He’d probably never tell you anyway, because he shook it off before you could open your mouth and ask him if he was alright, worry leaving its place to resolve on his face.
He walked to your bed, stopping at the edge and scanning your nightstand carefully as he slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he looked around, his eyes taking a moment to consider each object, each piece of decoration in your bedroom. It was the first time he entered it and although the way he threw his shirt on the floor and began unfastening his belt suggested he had other plans than simply asking you for a tour, he still took in most of the details of the only place where you could find privacy in your own home.
You stood up, removing your dress too and feeling suddenly very exposed to him. Your room, your face without makeup, your hair undone, your bruised skin, everything you usually kept hidden from your husband was now on display for him to see and you felt self conscious about it.
“Lie down.” Coriolanus demanded, kicking his pants off, leaving him with nothing on but his bare body for you to stare at, his skin almost as white as the suits he liked to wear.
You obeyed, climbing on the bed from the opposite side from where he stood. You let your head fall down on your fluffy pillow, breathing a sigh of relief as you noticed how the many aches in your body were appeased by the comfortable mattress under you.
He climbed on the bed next to you and it felt somewhat strange to see him there, in your room, on your sheets, naked. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and gently pulled them down your legs, the lace fabric sending shiver down your spine on its way down your body.
He spread your legs open for him, and placed himself between them, sitting back on his knees. He looked at your bruises again so, instinctively, you tried to hide them with your arms and hands in fear that he might change his mind and leave you wanting. Thankfully, he had mercy for you and, even though he didnt seem quite sure about how to proceed this time - as if he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to tame his usual roughness - he slowly stroked the tip of his cock between your folds.
He guided it in circles, teasing your entrance every once in a while, pressing over your bud, spreading your growing wetness all over in its wake and you noticed how it made him harden too, his cock increasing in length and girth in his hand with each movement.
It didn’t take long for either of you to be ready for more. After all, it had been a whole week during which the only physical contacts you had shared was him holding your hand at the hospital or placing a chaste kiss on your forehead each time he had to leave you for a while, and that was if you hadn’t dreamed or imagined it.
No longer able to tease you, he ended up pushing his erected member inside you, finding its way in so easily it felt like you were made to fit him by now. He noticed it too, how easy it was for him to bury himself all the way in you until his balls were squeezed between your bodies and he sighed with contempt as your warm and wet pussy engulfed him fully.
You said his name in a panted breath, loving the way he filled you up with his hard cock and his eyes darted to yours, his gaze shining with lust. He moved, starting with short slides back and forth to make sure you could take it then, once he saw you close your eyes and bite your lip to conceal a moan, he got a bit rougher and faster, shoving himself back in with enough force to make the bed crack loudly.
“Yes!” You cried, as you felt his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot so deep inside you, sending such pleasure through your entire body that you already felt close to coming undone. If there was any pain in your bruised body, you didn’t feel it anymore. All your mind could focus on was the intensity of his thrusts inside of you and the ecstasy building in your core in reaction.
He moved to hover over you, the change of angle making his strong movements even more intense. A moan fell from your lips but he silenced it with a hungry kiss, his taut chest pressing against yours.
He gathered you in his arms, holding your body tightly against his as he kept relentlessly thrusting inside you, swallowing all the moans that escaped from your lips with his desperate kisses.
You closed your legs around his hips, holding on to him as tightly as he was holding on to you. His thrusts lost their speed and intensity, but he still hit exactly where you needed him, making you whimper and moan with pleasure. His grip tightened and so did yours, both of you determined to never let each other go, him holding you like you might vanish at any moment and you holding him like your life depended on it.
He groaned, spilling his seed inside you with one powerful push. You dug your nails in his back, as his movements slowed down and your body contracted, your mind swimming in bliss.
He was panting, from his efforts and from the feverish kisses he kept giving you through it all. And yet he captured your lips with his again, in a much softer - almost loving - kiss. Then he set you free from his embrace, rolling on his side next to you and you istantly felt cold without the weight and warmth of his body on top of yours.
You shivered and he noticed, pulling the sheet over your numb body. You looked at him, wondering if he’ll stay the night. It would be the very first time you’d get to sleep with your husband. If the idea would have been dreadful to you just a year ago, now you wanted nothing more than to press your spent body against his and feel his presence as you drift off to sleep, knowing that you are safe with him by your side.
((More))
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weirdo-fun · 4 months
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What Else Can I Do?
Azriel x Reader - Chapter 1
Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic. I don't know if this will be good at all or people will even like it. This idea has been in my head for a few months and I finally caved and wrote it. This will be a few chapters maybe 3 chapters long? I don't know but I hope you enjoy! Also side note grammar is not my strong suit, so if there are any grammar mistakes please be nice. :)
Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.
Word Count: 1.7 K
Warnings: Bickering, slight dislike of inner circle, slight enemies to lovers, fem! reader, reader being sort of a rebel
Author's Note: Was this slightly insipred by "What Else Can I Do?" From Encanto? Maybe... (I do not claim or take credit for the song, all rights for the song go to the respected owners)
Side Note: Azriel will come into the story later I promise.
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“Why do you let them do that to you?” You ask Elain as you sit on in arm chair with both legs draped across one arm of the chair with your back leaning against the other one. The book you were just reading now lay on your chest as you look at Elain who is sitting, a lot more elegantly, on a sofa adjacent to you. You wait for her to answer as you give her a questionable look. 
She sheepishly looks up from her own book. “I don’t mind it. I know they only want whats best for me and to protect me.” You raise an eyebrow at her not entirely believing her. “Yeah, but doesn’t it bother you that they practically tell you what you can and can’t do?” You ask, pushing the conversation more. 
These have been questions you have had for a while. Ever since you and Archeron sisters were thrown into the caldron and turned High Fae, everyone decided, weather subconsciously or not, to keep Elain in this sort of bubble. Treating her as this precious flower that needs all the protection from everyone. You never had any ill will towards Elain, she is a very feminine woman who does tend to be on the more soft spoken side, which is what makes Elain Elain. This is what gravitated you towards Elain and wanting to be her friend. Being a very outspoken and extroverted person you always tended to befriend the more quiet types. It has always been this way since you were a child. The extroverted girl talking and hanging out with the introverts. You don’t know why you subconsciously gravitated to being friends with the quieter crowd when you were the complete opposite. Maybe it gave balance in your life. You being the talker and the other one being the listener. You don’t know why or how but those friendships always worked out when you were mortal. 
That was true until you accidentally, more like breaking a rule, decided to take a stroll in the middle of the night throughout the Archeron estate. You were a newly hired servant and you were too excited for your new job that you couldn’t sleep so you walked around the estate and ended up in the middle of the crossfire of the Archeron sisters, Nesta and Elain, being kidnapped. You of course jumped in to help but ended up being taken as well. 
After being turned and by the grace of the Mother, the Inner Circle allowed you to stay even though you weren’t related to the Archeron’s. You were still turned fae and needed a place to stay. Although the healing process was slow and mostly done on your own you never thought the inner circle was completely bad.  
It wasn’t until Elain finally started to come around and was healing from her trauma when you decided to befriend her. You guys fastly became close. Mostly thanks to you for always seeking her out and wanting to strike up a conversation. From the outside it may have appeared that you kept forcing yourself in her life but Elain wouldn’t turn you away and she would start conversations a good portion of the time. But it was when you guys started to become close that you noticed the treatment that the inner circle gave her. You never said anything in the beginning thinking you were thinking too much into it. But after so many days, and even weeks of the same treatment that you were questioning everything regarding Elain. 
You have questioned Elain about this treatment but she would brush it off saying things like “oh well i don’t see a difference” or “it’s ok Reader they are just being friendly and making sure I am ok.” And you haven’t pushed Elain further until today. 
A certain bat boy got under your skin earlier. And to be frank, he actually has always gotten under your skin when it comes to Elain. He is the master of the “delicate flower treatment” towards Elain. This treatment would be cute if 1) he was courting her, which he isn’t and 2) if it was dialed waaaaay back and the treatments actually respected her as being a true adult woman and not a fragile little girl. 
Azriel, is the bat that gets under your skin. You have tried to be friendly to him but he never talks to you and you never know what he is thinking. His face, although you first thought very handsome when you first met him, is always expressionless and stone cold. You have tried to be civil with him but because of your outspoken and extroverted nature he mostly disagrees with you for the simple fact that he knows you don’t like how he treats Elain. You have confronted him before about the matter in a friendly way but he shut you out and blew you off saying how you don’t know anything about what Elain has gone through and you don’t know whats best for her. The whole interaction left your relationship with him strained. And since then both you and Azriel have been on opposite sides on everything. Both wanting to challenge each other and win; never seeing eye to eye.  
Elain sheepishly shrugs. “I don’t think they really do-.” “Girl, no they do.” You interrupt her sternly. She looks at the ground and her posture slouches a little and you can tell that she knows your right. That her sister, with Cassian, and especially Azriel treat her as a fragile little princess. That anything can break her. But she survived the Caldron, she survived her trauma from it. You know she is a strong woman and you try to show her that; try to show the inner circle that. “You know I am right.” You say in a firm way as you swing your legs from on top of the arm rest to sitting right in the chair with your feet on the ground and back straight. She looks at you with innocent and confused eyes. “Well, I don’t know what to say to them when they tell me what I can and can’t do. I just agree because I don’t want to create conflict with them.” She softens her tone at the end, getting shy and embarrassed. “But is that what you want?” You ask her straight in the eye. “To keep agreeing with whatever they say and tell you how to live your life? To not have an opinion or a say? Is that what you want?” You ask in a calm yet concerned manner. “Well, it’s just that-” “Is that what you want?” “Well no but-” “Is that what you want?!” “I can’t just-” “ELAIN! Is that what you want?!” You yell for a third time. Wanting to hear her true feelings, her true thoughts and opinions on the matter. With no bullcrap excuse about how she won’t mind for stupid reasons. And no running away from this conversation. 
“No.” She speaks so softly that you don’t hear it. “What?” You ask leaning into her to hear what she said. “No” Elain says. You hear it this time, but her head is down and her hair is fell in front of her face, not being able to see her. “Elain what did you say? I can’t hear you?” You lie to her to try and get her to voice her opinion louder and to lift her head up and say it more confidently. She slowly lifts her head, straightens her back and looks at you with truthful eyes. “No. That is not what I want.” She says without her voice wavering. “I would like to go out shopping when I want to go. I would like for them to tell me things straight up and stop carefully stepping around eggshells thinking I won’t be able to handle it, that I might break.” 
You smile at her. Proud that she was finally able to say what she was feeling out loud. You walk over to her and pull her up to stand and give her a hug. “That is all I wanted to hear you say.” You look at her proudly holding onto her upper arms. “But, I still don’t know how to tell that to them. You know it’s hard for me to voice my opinion.” You shake your head. “We will take this one step at a time. Step one was to get you to voice out loud to me what you actually want. And we did that, so congratulations.” You tease as you walk back over to the arm chair you were sitting at to pick up the book you were reading. “Well then what’s the next step?” Elain asks curiously. You smirk and turn towards her. She sees the smirk on your face knowing you are already planning something. Her eyes widen in concern because every time you had a plan it would always get you in trouble and Azriel would always be the one to scold you. But you keep doing these “plans” because you didn’t care what Azriel was going to tell you.
“Remember when you told me that you thought my power could do so much more, than make pretty plants and flowers?” You ask as you create just a simple pink rose on your hand. “Yes.” She nods, not knowing where this conversations was going. You smile, “Well, I have been secretly trying to practice to create new things but it’s hard when just in the confines on my room.” You hand her the pink rose that you just created. “Why don’t we take a walk through the forest. And maybe along our walk I try to practice without the worry of the inner circles eyes and ears.” You ask sheepishly. “Look I know this is supposed to be about you but I would just like to be with my favorite person in the forest exploring my power more without judging eyes.” You plead. Elain nods and gives a small smile. “Thank you Reader for wanting to help me. And if helping me also includes me being able to see your power that I am super jealous of by the way, then yes.” You smile at her, grab her hand and both of you guys start to giggle like little girls as you guys walk out of the living area planning to “sneak out”. 
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That is it for Chapter 1! Did I also give Reader Isabela's powers?...Read the next chapter to find out! I am already thinking about chapter 2 and I promise Azriel and Reader will be interacting with each but I was setting everything up until then. But chapter 2 may take me while to publish because I am getting ready for my vacation but depending on how people react to this I may be motivated to publish it sooner. ;) Please if you have feedback leave a comment because I would love to read them. Thank you so much for reading and if you made it this far. Until next time, take care everyone!
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book--brackets · 2 months
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The BFG by Roald Dahl (1982)
Captured by a giant! The BFG is no ordinary bone-crunching giant. He is far too nice and jumbly. It's lucky for Sophie that he is. Had she been carried off in the middle of the night by the Bloodbottler, the Fleshlumpeater, the Bonecruncher, or any of the other giants-rather than the BFG-she would have soon become breakfast. 
When Sophie hears that they are flush-bunking off in England to swollomp a few nice little chiddlers, she decides she must stop them once and for all. And the BFG is going to help her!
Graceling Realm by Kristen Cashore (2008-2022)
Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable-yet-strong Katsa, who is smart and beautiful and lives in the Seven Kingdoms where selected people are born with a Grace, a special talent that can be anything at all. Katsa's Grace is killing. As the king's niece, she is forced to use her extreme skills as his brutal enforcer. Until the day she meets Prince Po, who is Graced with combat skills, and Katsa's life begins to change. She never expects to become Po's friend. She never expects to learn a new truth about her own Grace--or about a terrible secret that lies hidden far away . . . a secret that could destroy all seven kingdoms with words alone.
Oz by L. Frank Baum (1900-1920)
Join Dorothy and her little dog Toto on the yellow brick road, as they set off to explore the magical Land of Oz. Can they find the Wizard, defeat the Wicked Witch of the West, and return to Kansas?
Stardust by Neil Gaiman (1997)
Catch a fallen star . . .
Tristran Thorn promised to bring back a fallen star. So he sets out on a journey to fulfill the request of his beloved, the hauntingly beautiful Victoria Forester--and stumbles into the enchanted realm that lies beyond the wall of his English country town. Rich with adventure and magic, Stardust is one of master storyteller Neil Gaiman's most beloved tales, and the inspiration for the hit movie.
Inkworld by Cornelia Funke (2003-2023)
One cruel night, Meggie's father reads aloud from a book called INKHEART-- and an evil ruler escapes the boundaries of fiction and lands in their living room. Suddenly, Meggie is smack in the middle of the kind of adventure she has only read about in books. Meggie must learn to harness the magic that has conjured this nightmare. For only she can change the course of the story that has changed her life forever. 
Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine (1997)
At birth, Ella is inadvertently cursed by an imprudent young fairy named Lucinda, who bestows on her the "gift" of obedience. Anything anyone tells her to do, Ella must obey. Another girl might have been cowed by this affliction, but not feisty Ella: "Instead of making me docile, Lucinda's curse made a rebel of me. Or perhaps I was that way naturally." When her beloved mother dies, leaving her in the care of a mostly absent and avaricious father, and later, a loathsome stepmother and two treacherous stepsisters, Ella's life and well-being seem to be in grave peril. But her intelligence and saucy nature keep her in good stead as she sets out on a quest for freedom and self-discovery as she tries to track down Lucinda to undo the curse, fending off ogres, befriending elves, and falling in love with a prince along the way. Yes, there is a pumpkin coach, a glass slipper, and a happily ever after, but this is the most remarkable, delightful, and profound version of Cinderella you'll ever read.
The Witches by Roald Dahl (1983)
This is not a fairy-tale. This is about real witches. Real witches don't ride around on broomsticks. They don't even wear black cloaks and hats. They are vile, cunning, detestable creatures who disguise themselves as nice, ordinary ladies. So how can you tell when you're face to face with one? Well, if you don't know yet you'd better find out quickly-because there's nothing a witch loathes quite as much as children and she'll wield all kinds of terrifying powers to get rid of them.
The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan (2010-2012)
Since their mother's death, Carter and Sadie have become near strangers. While Sadie has lived with her grandparents in London, her brother has traveled the world with their father, the brilliant Egyptologist, Dr. Julius Kane.  One night, Dr. Kane brings the siblings together for a "research experiment" at the British Museum, where he hopes to set things right for his family. Instead, he unleashes the Egyptian god Set, who banishes him to oblivion and forces the children to flee for their lives.  Soon, Sadie and Carter discover that the gods of Egypt are waking, and the worst of them--Set?has his sights on the Kanes. To stop him, the siblings embark on a dangerous journey across the globe -- a quest that brings them ever closer to the truth about their family, and their links to a secret order that has existed since the time of the pharaohs.
Discworld by Terry Pratchett (1983-2015)
In the beginning there was… a turtle.
 Somewhere on the frontier between thought and reality exists the Discworld, a parallel time and place which might sound and smell very much like our own, but which looks completely different.
 Particularly as it’s carried through space on the back of a giant turtle.
 It plays by different rules. But then, some things are the same everywhere. The Disc’s very existence is about to be threatened by a strange new blight: the world’s first tourist, upon whose survival rests the peace and prosperity of the land.
 Unfortunately, the person charged with maintaining that survival in the face of robbers, mercenaries and, well, Death, is a spectacularly inept wizard…
Daughter of Smoke & Bone by Laini Taylor (2011-2014)
Around the world, black handprints are appearing on doorways, scorched there by winged strangers who have crept through a slit in the sky.
In a dark and dusty shop, a devil's supply of human teeth grown dangerously low.
And in the tangled lanes of Prague, a young art student is about to be caught up in a brutal otherwordly war.
Meet Karou. She fills her sketchbooks with monsters that may or may not be real; she's prone to disappearing on mysterious "errands"; she speaks many languages—not all of them human; and her bright blue hair actually grows out of her head that color. Who is she? That is the question that haunts her, and she's about to find out.
When one of the strangers—beautiful, haunted Akiva—fixes his fire-colored eyes on her in an alley in Marrakesh, the result is blood and starlight, secrets unveiled, and a star-crossed love whose roots drink deep of a violent past. But will Karou live to regret learning the truth about herself?
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queenvhagar · 6 months
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It's interesting that Rhaenyra is consistently framed as being "not like other girls" in such an extreme attempt at feminism that it veers way over to other side in that all the other girls in the story, especially those who act differently than she would or who act in opposition to her wishes, are somehow not as good as her or even evil.
As the show loves to show us, Rhaenyra's not like other girls. She loves being a bit of a rebel. She defies the rules of the world and doesn't care what anyone's opinion of her is. She embraces her sexuality. She's bold and says what's on her mind. Now, these are fine things for her as a character, for sure. The problem comes when looking at how the other girls are depicted and how the show expects you to feel about them vs Rhaenyra.
Alicent accepts her position in life as the daughter of a second son and marries for her family against her wishes. But it goes against what Rhaenyra wants, so she's evil. She should have just been more like Rhaenyra! Defied her father, said no to Viserys, went against the patriarchy... except Alicent does not have the privilege that Rhaenyra has as a dragon riding Targaryen princess, the king's beloved daughter and heir to the throne. What power did she have to resist the wishes of her lord father and the king? She acted like any girl of her time would, given the circumstances of her powerlessness, and yet somehow the show wants you to believe that's a character flaw.
Laena is second to Rhaenyra, something the show made painfully obvious when depicting her marriage with Daemon (which sucks especially because there was no indication that this was the case in the books; rather, her and Daemon were happily married and both were extremely close to Rhaenyra the entire time). Her death is changed from its original and unique tragedy to prop up Rhaenyra's eventual fate and its "epic" quality, so when it eventually happens we can view it as a true "dragonrider's death." Then, on the night of her funeral, her husbands finally gets with his first choice Rhaenyra. Laena who? She is made to look less in comparison to Rhaenyra.
Baela and Rhaena, despite having huge roles in the Dance and the aftermath, are largely sidelined by the writers. Baela's a fierce dragonrider like her mother... yet the only scene allowing her to show any aspect of that is left on the cutting room floor. Rhaena wants a dragon and is the only one of her family who isn't a dragonrider... yet the writers have yet to give her any personality beyond that or explore this aspect of her character with any depth. The twins' adult versions barely have any screen time or lines. Even when they are betrothed, seemingly without their prior knowledge, they can only smile by the side.
Helaena is a dragonrider, a dragon dreamer, a mother, a daughter. Forced to use her Targaryen royal womb to make heirs. But the writers aren't interested in exploring any aspect of her character in depth or showing her relationships with her family.
One woman is the exception, as she does share some qualities with Rhaenyra in that she's also not like other girls and the audience should root for her too... it's Rhaenys! She's got a dragon! She'll put it in the Greens' faces (never mind hundreds of innocents killed - so cool!). She'll call someone out for toiling their life in the service of men (even though she's done no differently with her own life!). And because girls support girls no matter what, of course she's Team Black all the way (even though her daughter died a continent away because of Daemon and her son was clearly killed because of Rhaenyra). Rhaenys will hitch onto the Black train despite everything that's happened, and in supporting Rhaenyra she'll take away Baela's claim to Driftmark and instead link both her granddaughters to the people who are the reason both of her children are dead...
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avan1i · 14 days
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“can i have this dance?”
warnings: a kiss on the cheek, angst, thats it i think. (hermione is not in this story btw)
lorenzo berkshire x reader
where a gryffindor who hates slytherins gets swept off her feet by one at the yule ball..
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“are you guys really not going to dance at all?” i huff, exasperated.
im currently sitting down at a table with ron and harry, watching boredly as everyone dances with their partners. i’d had to go with harry to the yule ball, because i (embarrassingly) had no one else to go with.
“correct.” says ron, lazily manspreading next to me.
i roll my eyes. padma patil is also sitting with us, as she’d come with ron. bad luck for her i guess. suddenly, she’s swept off by a hufflepuff boy, who asks her to dance.
“arm, leg, im yours!” she says excitedly.
i groan, watching her leave. god, im not too fond of dancing, but anything would be better than this. i scan the large ballroom, and my eyes land on the slytherin boys. the only ones with dates are draco and blaise. the others just go with anyone they want, it gives them more freedom i suppose. then, i could’ve sworn i caught lorenzo berkshire’s eye. i brush it off, shaking my head. i mean, how could i have?
the music changes to a slow, romantic song. im just about to get up and leave to go to the bathroom to avoid the embarrassment, when ron speaks up, surprised.
“what the hell does that old git want?” he says judgmentally. i look up and follow his gaze, and see enzo berkshire walking towards us. ron’s right, what could he possibly want?
we watch cautiously, as he gradually comes closer, his stupid smirk plastered on his face. i frown at him, wondering if he’s confused or something. the slytherin boys hate our trio, and we hate them. what’s going on?? he walks up to us, and holds out his arm to me.
“can i have this dance?” he asks calmly, his lips curling into a smug smirk. i look at ron and harry, confused. they’re giving me a ‘dont you dare’ look. i mean.. its only one dance.. and i want to have a good night. the yule ball only happens once!
i take his arm, and he sweeps me away onto the dance floor. i dont bother looking back at harry and ron’s outraged expressions, i know that they hate lorenzo. my cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he grabs my waist, pulling me closer. i sling my hands over his neck, as we sway to the rhythm of the slow song.
“are you drunk?” i murmur to him. im still trying to wrap my head around the fact he’s asked me to dance, out of all these girls.
“what? no, of course not. why do you ask?” he asks, smiling slightly. gosh, sometimes i wish i could slap that smirk off his face.
“no reason.” i mutter.
after the song ends, he asks me if i want a drink. it surprises me, as i thought he’d just ditch me and go find another girl to flirt with. i excuse myself to go and ask harry and ron if they want one quickly. enzo doesnt mind, and kisses me on the cheek, before going to talk to one of his fellow slytherin mates. stunned, i turn on my heel and walk back to harry and ron.
“oh you’re finally back are you? have fun with that prat? you looked like you did.” snarled ron.
“what are you talking about? it was one dance, nothing happened!” i say, annoyed.
ron gets up, practically dragging harry with him. i run after them, furious. my heels click and clack as i walk frustratedly down the cold, uninviting hallway. suddenly, ron turns around.
“what the bloody hell do you want now?” he yells.
“why are you so fucking annoying? all i did was dance with someone, because youre too lazy to get up off your ass!” i scream at him, tears forming in my eyes. i know im ruining my makeup, but i dont care at this point.
“we all agreed that we hate them, and you just HAVE to rebel against the rules, dont you?” he spat.
“rebel? what is this, some sort of cult?!”
“im sick of this, why dont you go and get your face eaten off by that berkshire git? its all he wants from you. you’re stupid honestly, thinking he actually likes you.” he yells at me.
i stand there in shock, tears pouring down. harry and him run up the stairs, as ron mutters to harry,
“they get scary when theyre older.”
“ron, you spoiled EVERYTHING!” i yell at him. they rush off and i sit down on the stairs, yanking my shoes off, and start sobbing.
A/N: this was pretty bad im ngl, i kinda ran out of ideas at the end, so its pretty repetitive. my next post will be better i promise!
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bao3bei4 · 15 days
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BLESSED BE THEY WHOSE LIVES DO NOT TASTE OF EVIL
BUT IF SOME GOD SHAKES YOUR HOUSE
RUIN ARRIVES
RUIN DOES NOT LEAVE
IT COMES TOLLING OVER THE GENERATIONS
IT COMES ROLLING THE BLACK NIGHT SALT UP FROM THE OCEAN FLOOR
AND ALL YOUR THRASHED COASTS GROAN
anne carson, antigonick
panting like a dog at the edge of your bed is a tian guan ci fu fanfiction written by ao3 user bloodletter. it follows he xuan, a side character in the original work, for sixty thousand odd words and over two hundred years. it is very good. it has some hefty cws, though, check them out. but on the whole it’s a funny and pleasant fic. 
you can read this without having read the fic yet. consider it an advertisement with mild spoilers.
let’s begin with a short story about graves: two brothers fight each other for the throne. one is buried a hero; one rots a rebel. their sister decides that the latter ought to be buried as well anyway, against the king’s edict. she is entombed alive as punishment. 
some other things happen too, but they’re not important. i tell you this story, the story of antigone, not because or maybe not simply because she is oedipus’ daughter and she therefore might be as psychically central as her father, but because panting is also a story about duty, remains, and being entombed alive. and it seems to ask the question, in its own way, what might happen to antigone if she hadn’t killed herself, but encased in her tomb, festered, rotted, into a shape beyond a girl, beyond a human? 
when we release antigone from her tomb, what do we see? 
we turn, actually, to zizek here briefly. he makes the salient point that being “not dead” and “undead” are two totally separate things. as he phrases it: 
the ‘undead’ are neither alive nor dead, they are precisely the monstrous ‘living dead.’ and the same goes for ‘inhuman’: ‘he is not human’ is not the same as ‘he is inhuman’... [the inhuman is] marked by a terrifying excess which, although it negates what we understand as ‘humanity,’ is inherent to being-human.
so rather than being inhuman, we might call a ghost extrahuman. they have a surplus of humanity, overfilling overflowing from them. the ghost is simply too alive to categorize. at the heart of being human, is something very very strange.
now i am going to give you a long quote. and it is not because i am lazy but because it is just that good. and i’m a little lazy. so here’s avery gordon: 
if haunting describes how that which appears to be not there is often a seething presence, acting on and often meddling with taken-for-granted realities, the ghost is just the sign, or the empirical evidence if you like, that tells you a haunting is taking place. the ghost is not simply a dead or a missing person, but a social figure, and investigating it can lead to that dense site where history and subjectivity make social life. the ghost or the apparition is one form by which something lost, or barely visible, or seemingly not there to our supposedly well-trained eyes, makes itself known or apparent to us, in its own way, of course. the way of the ghost is haunting, and haunting is a very particular way of knowing what has happened or is happening.
ghosts, then, have an epistemology all their own. they are a way of seeing what is not there, an absence. antigone is not alive. what might she say anyway? what might she want? 
we know, from freud, that ghosts are a projection of our ill will against the dead. we wanted them dead, on some level, and so they reproach us in their un-death. this is why so many ghosts have grievances; we have grievances against them in turn. 
it is perversely surprising, therefore, that he xuan might become a ghost. shi wudu has no grievance with he xuan; he sees only necessity. but panting brings he xuan to life by shi wudu’s hand. 
The man’s hand hovers in the air, and though cast in shadow, it sees uncertainty play out on his face. The companion calls from the doorway, “Oi, Shui-xiong, are we done here?” The first man gazes at the urn for a moment longer, and then turns away. Nods curtly. “We’re done.”
this is the name that animates he xuan; it is shi wudu’s ambivalent last visit, in my view, that catalyzes the whole thing. his fear that it is, in fact, not done, that sets in motion the events that bring about his demise. 
i’m going to tell you a ghost story. 水鬼 are a type of ghost. they live in rivers and streams and they are the remnants of people who died by drowning. be careful on the water: if they pull a living person in, they can finally be reincarnated. isn’t that beautiful? revenge brings you peace. i’m sure it’s that simple. 
these are the kinds of ghosts he xuan eats: “No one had to teach him how to do it. When the first time came, an instinctual part of him knew how to proceed.” but the more he eats and he eats the more he turns into a constellation of hunger. 
A hairline fracture within him widens, opening up that black chasm where the things he swallows are made room for. It spreads out to the border of him, turning him inside-out, until nothing remains except that lustful emptiness. Perhaps nothing more than that nothingness ever existed; in those feverish moments, his humanity feels like nothing so much as a wistful dream of better days that never were.
is it cannibalism for he xuan to eat a shuigui? a human? another god? or is it simply doing as was done unto him? 
lu xun writes in diary of a madman: 
the eater of human flesh is my elder brother! i am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh! i myself will be eaten by others, but none the less i am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh!
but so too did he write: 
wanting to eat men, at the same time afraid of being eaten themselves, they all look at each other with the deepest suspicion. . . . how comfortable life would be for them if they could rid themselves of such obsessions and go to work, walk, eat and sleep at ease. they have only this one step to take. yet fathers and sons, husbands and wives, brothers, friends, teachers and students, sworn enemies and even strangers, have all joined in this conspiracy, discouraging and preventing each other from taking this step.
lu xun is, of course, critiquing tradition—the “madman” sees cannibalism all around him, even in the classics he was taught. the cannibal has this in common with the ghost — they are the allegedly primitive ways of knowing that outlived the logics of capitalist modernity. the law, the state, the family, all of it bursting with this repressed violence. freud writes: “From the idea of ‘homelike,’ ‘belonging to the house,’ the further idea is developed of something withdrawn from the eyes of strangers, something concealed, secret.”
marx was no stranger to ghosts. he was of course intimate with the specter of communism, but even more than that, he writes: “the tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living.” the bodies we have eaten return to us. and derrida contended with this problem, describing the ways in which, quoting hamlet, “the time is out of joint,” or rather, history is disordered. the past is made present, ghosts caught forever in-between by injustices and disruptions, necessitating a new way to describe something that is and is not actually present. fredric jameson describes hauntology as derrida’s “mocking” answer to the question of if “tangible certainty and solidity corresponds to ontology... how to describe what literally undermines it and shakes our belief?”
whatever. big shock. what IF law and order were violent. i think they made a show about that. i am trying to move here, from the individual undead to the collective undead. what if it is not merely us that are undead in the world of unliving, but the world which has in fact already ended? 
before he xuan dies, (in this fic) he xuan is raped. i want to read this eschatologically: 
He’s not sure he’s ever been less of a person than this; despite all of the indignity and toil that came before, he was at least always working towards something. Like a feral dog, his purpose has become bare survival. He needs to survive long enough to serve the end of his time, and then someone will pay. 
okay before i go any further i want to give into my semi-medicated anxiety disorder. in fear of misreadings: i am not saying that any of this applies to all survivors of rape. i am making a claim about how he xuan sees and conducts himself, as a malevolent undead avatar of revenge. 
anyway: panting is a story about living past the end of the world. it follows an undead protagonist living past the end of her normal life, her life, her world, and who indeed lives beyond the limits of the original story, veering even into epilogue. this sexual violence heralds the apocalypse, and razes what-has-been to the ground. let us consider he xuan’s initial new form as a ghost: “It can’t touch anything, but neither can it be touched. It is, and it is not.” 
rape and death are a de-gendering process for he xuan. what is left afterward is the idea that mourning can be constitutive of gender. 
he xuan clings to masculinity as obligation: “It wasn’t enough for my parents to die on my behalf? I should do away with their son, too?” but bloodletter also makes new possibilities explicit as well. 
He Xuan’s true body is a weathered vessel for the memory of people he is still trying to do right by, in his way. As much as it might presently seem otherwise. He must fashion new flesh for the shameful pleasures of the dark.
and those new feminine bodies? 
The body itself is an assemblage of women she has seen and been. The form that He Xuan took on with Hua Cheng is too ghastly for polite company, so as Ming Yi she concedes to look more like a goddess.
it is not so simple as masculinity = death and femininity = possibility, by the way. it’s more complicated than that. NOT to personally equate femininity with reproductive capacity, but it’s worth talking about how ming yi’s implicit equivocation of the two through her new undead capabilities has a gender kaleidoscopic effect. 
after all, the earth that’s nature’s mother is her tomb; what is her burying grave, that is her womb. or whatever. it’s a truism at this point. is it feminine to be dead? anyway, he xuan echoes that shakespeare line: 
He Xuan has been inside mines before, in her role as the false Earth Master, and she always dislikes them, despite the comforting quality of their thick darkness. The bottom of the sea is just as black, but while underwater, He Xuan may move in endless directions. Here, she is pressed in on on all sides, and can’t help but think of the true Ming Yi, imprisoned in Ghost City.
womb and tomb, indeed. he xuan builds herself a womb/tomb to return to: 
He Xuan thinks of the manor, encompassing them on all sides. Still, solemn, cavernous. A place where the living have never trod, and any who might come to enter its depths are hers to claim.
central to the fic is the idea of circlusion, or the antonym of penetration. to encompass, to surround, to squeeze, to engulf, to circlude. my god the fisting scene. or consider this quote: 
For her own part, He Xuan dreams of Shi Qingxuan, devoured. If Shi Qingxuan were another dead thing, like herself, the temptation would be too great to resist, and then at least He Xuan could contain her: suspended in eternal digestion and assimilated into the slipstream of selves that He Xuan may drag her fingers through as she pleases, and which never disturb her otherwise.
anyway, this succession of wombs/tombs provides new form for he xuan’s gender and indeed catharsis: 
The thought that a man could look at her and want to shove something in her cunt makes her want to laugh: go ahead, go and try it; plumb those depths, where only death awaits you.
consider the cunt that gives death, not life, but is itself life. anyway. look, to sum all this up, the point i am trying to make is that grief is something that can be so trans to me. she is standing in the wreckage of her old life. and you don’t move on, you move around the shape of the loss, until you are warped and whole containing the seed/husk of yourself. 
remember poor antigone? what if instead of being buried, she was reborn? what if she ate and she ate her way free, until she was no longer human, but more than human, and the world ended around her, but she kept unliving until there was nothing left but GORGEOUS T4T SEX?????? and also there was a really good huaxuan fwb subplot that i didn’t even talk about because i got caught up in the fever of he xuan dramatics??? that’s what panting like a dog at the edge of your bed is about. in my opinion. you should read it. 
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laurellerual · 8 months
Text
Mini rant:
Sometimes you want to read some old Gendrya fanfiction, and sometimes you find yourself in an endless pit of stories written at the end of season 8. There's an absurd amount, all the same, written by casual fans to vent on GoT's ending. The standard plot is: 
Gendry became the perfect lord in two weeks, commoners love him, highborns love him, everyone wants to marry him. He has magically become the most charming and famous person in all the kingdoms, Jon is his super.best.friend.forever and Sansa has adopted him into the family. Arya returns home and suddenly everyone hates her and demeans her, and treats her like a naughty child who must: A) happily accept that Jon will package her up and send her off to lord Gendry to marry against her will. Or B) Go to lord Gendry begging and humiliating herself until he takes her back. She must learn her place cause she is super dangerous but also just a girl, so every time she tries to rebel Jon and/or Gendry pin her down easly and bring her to Sansa for a scold. I swear sometimes they jiggle happly at how weak she is...
On nights like this I remember why I hate the GoT fandom... Anyway, sorry, I needed to vent too.
If you would like to recommend something good to read, I would be grateful. And if you want to spit out some frustration, you can do it here, this is a mean post. 🤷‍♂️
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tojisbbygworl · 1 year
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Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader pt. 2
Summary: Two anarchists meet at a concert and decide that one night just isn't enough...but one night is all they have
Words: 5,697
Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Mutual Pining, SMUT, Oral (f receiving), Degradation, Marijuana, High Sex, Pussy Whipped, Slight Accent Kink, Slight Angst, Yandere if you squint, Reader and Hobie are 21+, Canon Divergence (Doesn't follow ATSV events/Hobie's universe is present day instead of 1978), Mentions of protesting and Cop City in Atlanta, I tried my best with the British slang
author's note: Here's part 2! This one is muuuchhh longer so you can really skip the part before the page break if you're just here for the smut. It's mostly just her (your) backstory.
Part 1 Epilogue
AO3 Version
My AO3
Masterlist
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"Shit, it's brick out here."
"You're telling me." The difference in temperature from the sweltering venue to the city almost made Hobie want to go back inside and fuck her in the bathroom instead. But Y/N did say that she had a blunt at home and she seemed very eager to smoke it. Or fuck him. Either one was good.
He took a moment to admire her. He was right about her Demonias. They were long with lot's of large buckles and he loved that he still towered over her even though they were platforms. Now that they were out of the dark building, he could see the various tattoos that littered her arm and thigh. Fuck him, he was going to have fun with her.
She told him that she didn’t live far and they could walk there. That was fine with him, he didn’t want to get on a cramped train anyway. He did wish that he could just swing them there, but then he wouldn’t see the way her ass moves while she walks.
He would be lying if he said she didn’t intrigue him. From his knowledge, Atlanta, Georgia was considered the Deep South of America. It had to have been hundreds of miles away. And this area doesn’t seem like a place someone who was swimming in money would be living in. Not that it was terrible, more so humble. Like where he lived.
“So, tell me,” he calls out to her. She was walking a little ways ahead of him, courtesy of Hobie wanting to ogle her. She turned around when he spoke. “How does an Atlanta babe find herself at a Rico Nasty concert in Brooklyn?”
She waits for him to catch up to her then starts walking by his side. “Huh, it’s a…long story.”
“I don’t mind.” He answers honestly. Since they’ve left the concert, Hobie has felt a strange pull towards her that exceeded his feeling of lust. He wondered if she felt the same.
She went quiet and opted to look thoughtfully towards the ground. Hobie began to backtrack. “Or, I could shut up and let you sit on my face instead. Whichever one you want.”
She squealed and hit his chest making him laugh. It wasn’t really a joke, but Hobie’s glad to see that he didn’t make her uncomfortable. “Nah, your good,” she reassured him. “I can do both.”
“Oh?” Hobie raised his eyebrows and gave her his full undivided attention. She takes in a deep breath, let’s it out, and begins to tell him her story.
“Well, you seem like someone who can appreciate a rebel.”
“Yeah?” Hobie bemused. What would this girl be rebelling against? “So, what your like a runaway? Parents, maybe?”
She looked away. Ah, he read her like a book. Then she dropped a bomb on him. “Eh, kind of. More so the Atlanta Police Department.”
He froze. She giggled to herself pretending to not notice and turn around when she was some feet away. She knew he wasn’t expecting that. No one does. She could count on her hand how many people up here she’s told and he was one of them. She trusted him, and she doesn’t know why. She hoped he felt the same.
Hobie couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When he realized how far she was, he ran to catch up. “You're on the run from the Atlanta PD?” She couldn’t contain herself enough and she let out a snort and nodded her head. Hobie shakes his. “No. I don’t believe it. You’re having a laugh.”
“I’m deadass.” She answers still laughing. Hobie drops his head in utter disbelief.
“Well what in bloody hell did you do?” The both of you start walking again.
“...You might not know but, a couple years ago there was a huge uproar of protesting here. In the US, I mean.”
Hobie did not know. He assumes something terrible must have happened, and he’s sure that something like that would have reached London. Maybe it didn’t happen on Earth - 138.
He gingerly shook his head. “I was a part of them. I would organize with some close friends and hand out water and snacks while we were there.” She explained.
“My parents weren’t too happy about that. I had just graduated and I wasn’t going to college. I had a job at a tattoo parlor so…they thought I was a failure.” Hobie listened intently to every word she said. “They would say I just love to bring trouble and always used me going out as an example.”
“They were afraid an officer would come to the door next. And then one day shit went left and we were getting sprayed with tear gas. My stupid ass picked up a can and threw that shit. I guess it hit one of them in the face, I don’t know. I couldn’t see shit.” She giggles and he laughs with her.
“I was pinned down and put in a holding cell for about a week.” She continues.
“Shit.” Hobie knew a few people who that’s happened to. Every story shares the same thing, it’s fucking terrible.
She nods. “Yeahhhh…then my parents kicked me out.”
“Shit,” he exclaims. She continues to nod. “So is that how you got here?” She shakes her head. Hobie gasps. “There’s more?” Nod. He gasps again making her laugh at him. “Tell me.”
“Okay, Okay,” She waits to calm down a bit. “I was just staying with friends after that. Then, maybe some months ago, there was this project announced for the city.” Hobie frowns noticing how much more dejected she had become. “They were going to cut down a forest to create a ‘training ground’ for emergency services.”
“What the fuck…?” Hobie was appalled.
“You can imagine how that sounds to civilians, right? A mock city for law enforcement to play cops and fucking robbers.” She spits out. “I was part of the groups of people who stayed in the forest to prevent construction.”
Just like before, he stopped again. This time, in complete and utter admiration. She smiled at him. “That’s…amazing.”
“Thank you.” She nods her head back to the path so they can continue walking. Hobie stands just a little bit closer to her now.
“So...did shit go left again?” He asked only half joking. She grimaced.
“It was bad. There were a lot of gunshots, and screaming. And fireworks.”
“Fireworks?”
“Fireworks.”
He stared at her expectantly. “And what did you do with them?”
She looks around cutely while smiling. Hobie knows that whatever she did, she didn’t regret it for a second. “Maybe I lit up and threw it at one’s foot. And then it lit the leaves on fire.”
He can’t hold back the laugh that kept from his throat. “Ha!” He clapped his hands and looked at her. “What happened after that?”
“I think he recognized me from the protests or maybe I’m just a hot topic, because the way that man came at me and mowed me down.” Hobie jerked his head back.
“What?”
“Boy, yes. That man tried to beat me with his baton.” The story just kept getting wilder and wilder.
“How did you get out of that?”
“I stole his taser and shot it at his chest.”
“No, your taking the piss,” he shouted excitedly. “No you didn’t.”
“Hold on now because he was still holding me so I got shocked too.” Hobie cackled at her. “It worked though. He let me go and I ran away with some of the others. Only a few people stayed behind. I went back home and woke up to my face on the news the next day.”
The the emotional rollercoaster that Hobie was one was something for the books. He had never felt such quick changes in such little time. He was shocked, then sad, then impressed, then elated, then sad again. What is this girl’s life?
“Man I had to get the fuck out of there. My friend took me up to Maryland where her family lived. Then they brought me here. I got a lil’ ugly ass apartment and a new tattoo job. Made a couple friends, and now I’m here. With you.”
That last part wasn’t expected for either of them. It just came out. But it felt nice.
The two of them looked at each other and basked in their presence. She could feel the pride and admiration for her coming off of him in ways. She could see it in his eyes just as brown as hers. Good. He wanted her to.
A car pulled up from down the street. The both of them were released from their trance and looked. They recognized those kinds of headlights anywhere.
Hobie fought the urge to try and hide before the cop car got to them, as he didn’t want to scare her. There was no reason for her to run from NYPD, right?
Wrong. She grabbed his hand and slipped into the alleyway.
Hobie just let her pull him along. She clearly knows what she’s doing. After coming out on the other side of the street, she begins to keep her eyes alert. She lets go of his hand and continues walking. She just won’t stop giving him reasons to want her, huh?
“And what was that about?” He teases. She smirks at him.
“I didn’t come to New York to be a good girl.” And it was as simple as that.
She walks a few more feet then turns wondering why he’s not saying anything. But when she meets his eyes her heart start beating in anticipation. He was staring her down hard. His smirk was small and his eyelids were low. She couldn’t think of anything to say.
Hobie uses her surprise to his advantage. He walks up to her and pulls her into a tiny space between two buildings. It wasn’t much of an alley, but it did enough to shield their bodies from the street light; it only shining his wicks as he towers over her body and presses her against the wall. He nudges her chin up, winks at her, then meets her lips. Her hands rest on his shoulders as his arms trap her in. He resists putting his tongue in her mouth, as she still had her makeup on and this sweet but desperate kiss would turn sloppy.
He’s the one who has to pull away, her eyes were still closed when he did. “How much longer do I have to wait before I can have you?”
She catches her breath and tells him, “We’re only a couple minutes away, Hobie.”
Hobie leans down again and kisses her neck. She shudders and moves her hands to the back of his. Hobie gives her soft smooches, one lick, and a bite. Then, one more kiss, before he finally pulls away. He tugs her back onto the street and nods his head down the path. She starts to pick up the pace.
~
Her building wasn’t too shabby. At least the walls looked freshly painted. The inside of her apartment looked very cozy. She had rugs wherever it made sense to put them and low beam orange-yellow lights. She was walking ahead of him and turned around to speak. “Get comfortable on the couch. I’ll be right back.” Then she disappears down a hallway.
Hobie pulls off his boots and places them against the wall. Then he takes off his jacket and a few extra accessories that were a bit uncomfortable now that he had no adrenaline. He walks into her living room and plops himself onto the comfy, leather couch. Faux, he hoped.
He rests his arms and hangs his head backwards over it, eyes closed. Before Y/N disappeared down the hallway, she had flicked a little device on the wall. It must have been the heater since Hobie had just heard something blowing air in the walls. He lifts his head up and takes in his surroundings.
It was a bit small, but perfect for one woman living alone. There were unlit candles on almost every surface, and a beats pill sitting in the side of the room. His favorite sight, by far, was a fat bong sitter right on the coffee table. He chuckled to himself. She could probably live here with a significant other.
It was times like this that he wishes he was normal. He wishes he could wake up to a beautiful face, smoke something, leave home to work, dismantle corporations, or just spend time with his friends, then come back home to that same face, light some candles, and enjoy the rest of his night in her arms. He doesn’t understand why he’s thinking of her when he imagines this, but he invites it.
She comes back with a burner and a small Bic lighter. She uses the burner to light the various candles and Hobie admires her. She still had her clothes on except her shoes which he was happy about. He really wanted to see her tits in those fishnets. Her makeup was off. Her skin was glowing. Her Bantu knots were still in her head. He wondered if she would let him help her take them out, but he’s sure she just wants to fuck and get it over with.
He stops watching her to think about it for a second. When they’re done smoking and having sex Hobie would leave. Not just leave, go back to his own dimension. The thought that he couldn’t keep tabs on her, maybe follow her Instagram or even get her number hadn’t even crossed him. He didn’t like it.
His face must have seemed troubled, because she stopped and looked at him in concern. “You good?” She asks getting his attention.
“Hm? I’m fine, love.” She nods and reaches into her pocket and throws a condom onto the table, then behind her ear to take the blunt out. Then she sits next to him on the couch.
“Want some music?” She asks. Hobie nods. “I’m all punk’d out. Can I play RnB instead?”
“Please do. I feel like chilling right now.”
The pill begins to play soft drums and a bass before Erykah Badu starts singing. He liked music from Miles’s universe, regardless of the genre.
It’s like an unspoken agreement that they would be hanging out for a while. She lights it up, takes a couple puffs, then hands it over to him. He does the same. He takes longer drags producing a much larger cloud then breathes it all in. She looks at him incredulously.
“Ay? Problem, love?”
Her eyes narrow. “You think you’re so cool?”
He takes another drag. “I am.”
She grabs it from him and does a French inhale. Hobie couldn’t stop looking at her. He reaches his hands behind her back and pull her even closer to him. Her legs rested on his. She hands it to him.
“I told you everything about me. What about you? Did you travel to America just to see Rico?”
Hobie shook his head, trying to rack his brain for a proper explanation. “I travel around a lot. Had a pen pal who lived here and I came to see him. He told me about the concert so I went with him. Not as interesting as your journey.” He takes a drag. “Although I’ve had my fair share of trouble with cops.”
“Is that why we click so well?”
He smirked at her. “Yeah.” Another drag. “But, as banging as you are, you’re not on my level.”
Raising her eyebrow she sits up. “And why the hell not?” She jokes.
“Haven’t killed a cop yet.”
It was her turn to be shocked. She gave him the same fascinated look he had. “You’ve killed a cop?”
“Check the laces, innit?”
She stretches her head over the couch to look at his shoes and sure enough, his laces are blue. Speechless and filled with admiration, she freezes. Her neck is exposed, and Hobie doesn’t stop himself from licking it then giving it a smooch. She gasps and shudders. Slowly she smiles as she sits back down and stares at him.
“Does that excite you?” Hobie asks. She nods. He shifts, his pants beginning to get uncomfortable. He puts the blunt down on the side table, grabs her and pulls her into his lap. Her center collides with his crotch and they both groan. Hobie picks up the blunt, puffs on it to light it up again, then hands it to her. “Hit it nice and slowly. And lift your head up.”
She does as he asks. Hobie pulls her neck down to his mouth and his begins to bite and suck on it. She whines and takes the blunt out of her mouth, not being able to focus on it. Hobie hums in desperation when she starts grinding on him.
“You’re a proper sket, aren’t you?” He whispers. He’s sure she has no clue what he means, so he brings her face down to look at him. “Just a big fucking slut.”
She bit her lip and nodded. Hobie smirked, takes the blunt and drags, then kisses her. The smoke escapes their conjoined mouths as they explore them with their tongues. She starts to suck on his, making him hold her tighter to his body. Hobie makes a sound of pleasure in his throat that ripples through his chest. He pulls his face away from hers and they pant while staring at each other.
“Take this shit off.” He lays her down onto the couch and stands up to pull his shirt and jeans off. She takes off her shorts and fishnet bottoms at the same time. Before she could take off her top, Hobie holds her thigh and squeezes it. “Only take off the shirt.”
She nods and pulls the crop top off. Her tits fall in unison constrained by the fishnets. Hobie could moan at the sight of them. He was right about how good they would look. He doesn’t waste anytime in getting between her open legs and grabbing them. He lets his thumb flick her nipples, enjoying the feeling of fabric and skin. Her small moans go straight to his member, and he decides to take his underwear off completely. She braces herself.
He is long and curved. She knew he would ruin her when she got him home, but she underestimated how nice his dick looked.
“Don’t get scared. I’ll take good care of you.” He tells her.
“Yeah you better,” she tells him. She begins looking around. “Hey, where is it?”
“This?” He pulls out the blunt from seemingly nowhere then the lighter lighting it up once more. He hands it to her then leans over and takes a nipple into his mouth. Her moan was lethal, and Hobie loses his resolve. He was going to tease her, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure shooting through his body as he licks her nipple through the small diamond hole. She begins humping the air.
“You’re desperate to be played with aren’t you, love?”
“Uh-Huh” she says breathy. Her eyes are red and lidded. Hobie gets an idea.
“Hand that over,” he takes a couple more puffs giving her a kiss afterwards. She reaches out for it and he smirks at her. He holds it away from her, rubbing her thighs. She lets out an exclamation.
“Excuse you. That’s my weed.”
“What’s yours is mine.”
“Um, what’s mine is mine.”
Hobie trails his finger to her wet center, playing with her thong before pushing it to the side. He puts his thumb on her clit and she flinches. “Oh…”
“Yeah. Stop talking all that shit.” He begins to rub his thumb around it, his finger getting wet with each pass over. She’s whimpering and jerking her hips into his hand. “You like that?” All she can do is nod.
Hobie slows down and switches fingers. He smokes while inserting his middle finger into her. As it sinks further and further, she lets out a satisfied moan. He pumps it in and out of her pussy, a squelching sound filing the air.
He leans down and puts his tongue on her clit not letting up on fingering her too. She lets out a loud moan. Hobie puts the blunt on the floor, obsessed with the way her pussy gushes in his mouth. She starts to hump his face. Hobie watches her hand begin to reach out to him, then he grabs it and puts it on his head, wrapping her fingers around his wicks. He moans when she begins to pull him further into her pussy. He pulls his drenched finger out grabs her thighs and grips them tightly. He shakes his head back and forth, sucking and spreading her juices across her vagina.
“Ooo, I’m gonna cum.”
When he hears that he lifts his head and wipes his mouth. She whines but he shushes her by taking the blunt, holding it to her mouth, and she takes a drag from it. She is completely relaxed as she breathes it out, her eyelids lidded and eyes fluttering into the back of her head. He thought it was the sexiest thing you had done that night.
“Fuck, you’re peng.” Shit, he has got to start learning American slang. “That was sexy. I want to see you do it with my dick inside you.”
He takes the condom and rolls it on his dick, groaning under his breath from how it feels. He aligns himself with her hips.
“Ooo,” she lets out. “But wait, you don’t want some head?”
Hobie shakes his head and jerks himself. “I want you now, beautiful.” He keeps the blunt in his mouth and slaps his dick on her pussy. Her juices splash onto their thighs. Hobie grunts.
Keeping his head down, he looks at her face. Her eye lids are still low, but he can see her beautiful brown cornea staring at him full of lust and want. With the blunt in his mouth, he talks out the side of his mouth. “Beg for it,” he says.
Her eyelids widen, but the promiscuous look on her face doesn’t change. “What, baby?”
“Mm,” he says pleased by the pet name. He takes it out of his mouth and smiles at her. “Beg me to fuck you like a whore, love.”
She scrunches her shoulders up and tries to close her thighs, but she smiles and bites her lip. She liked the degradation and embarrassment of it all. Hobie liked it too. He pulls her thighs apart again. Placing his dick on top of her pussy, he waits for her to follow his instruction. “Come on, I know you can, pretty girl. You want this dick don’t you?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Call me baby again.”
“Please fuck me, baby.”
Hobie pumps his dick even more. He places the tip right at her hole, becoming evermore impatient. “Fuck, now say my name.”
“Hobie…mmm…” he slowly sinks himself into her.
“Fuck, say it again.”
“Hobie…” They sigh together when he’s fully sheathed inside of her. Her walls are already clamping around him. She’s so wet, and ready for his dick. Hobie keeps himself inside her and lights the blunt again reveling in her desperation. He takes his precious time to smoke some more while she begins to whine and grind herself onto him.
“Hobie, please fuck me.”
“Wait.” She whimpers for him, tears begin to form in her eyes from the depravity.
“Hobie…”
“If you keep saying my name like that I might stay inside you like this.”
“No, please don’t. I need it so badly.”
He inhaled a ghost. “Yeah?” He slowly unsheathes himself then slams back into her. She yelps.
“Yes, daddy,”
Hobie whistles. “Oh, I didn’t know you had that in the vault. You wanna keep calling me that, Atlanta babe?"
“Start fucking me and I’ll call you whatever you want.”
Hobie chuckles. “You got a mouth, don’t you?” He holds the blunt to her mouth again, grabs her hips, then starts fucking her. "I like baby a little more." She blew out the smoke the same way, it coming out in puffs from Hobie’s humping.
“Shit, love. You’re amazing.” He takes the blunt away and places it on the side table. Hobie grabs both sides of her hips and begins to fuck her harder. Their moans fill the apartment. Hobie stares at her beautiful breasts bouncing in her fishnets. Hobie’s too tall to lean down and suck on them, so he grabs one instead and squeezes it. She looks into his eyes and grabs his face. She smiles at him. Hobie’s eyes fill with curiosity.
“You can smack them if you want.”
Hobie slows down in disbelief. Then he smiles and starts fucking her harder. Hobie takes his hand and smacks one, as she requested. She moaned with a permanent beam on her face. Hobie is completely and totally enamored. He stops fucking her and pulls himself out.
“Come sit on me.”
“Okay, baby”
Hobie sits upright on the couch. She climbs on top of him and grabs his dick, loving the little grunt he let out She inserts him back inside her. They moan together while she sinks down onto his curved length. She pauses when he’s fully inside, his dick hitting places she didn’t even know could feel so good.
She grabs his face and pulls it up to meet hers. They stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever. Hobie lost himself in hers. He couldn’t move or speak or think. All of his emotions were portrayed in the way he looked at her. He wanted her, badly. In this moment she became everything to him. Then she started to rock.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered embarrassingly. The sounds that left his love’s mouth were lilted and pleasured. It didn’t take long for her to go faster. “Just like that, babe.”
Hobie’s breaths are loud and raunchy, while she lets out small pleasured hums. He takes his hands and rubs up her torso. Hobie wraps his arms around her waist and embraces her tightly. His head rests in her neck as he shifts down the couch the begins lifting his hips up into her. She doesn’t sound so quiet anymore.
“Oh…Y/N…” he whines.
Something inside of Hobie broke and he felt completely vulnerable. If she were to ask him anything, he would answer truthfully. He wanted to tell her everything. About the spider society, him being a spider man, the multiverse and everything within it. He wonders if she would accept it. Hell, he felt as though he could, she reacted better than he imagine she would when he told her he’s killed a cop.
For some reason, he felt like he could trust her. He thinks if he did tell her the whole truth, she wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. How would she react if he opened a portal right then and there and brought her to his own apartment in his own universe? Would she be okay with it? Would she even come in the first place?
He liked the idea of keeping her with him. He liked the thought of seeing her all the time without the risks of inter dimensional travel. Just coming back home, after the most tiring and troublesome day of working for Miguel, and seeing her beautiful body and even more gorgeous face.
Mm, he really liked it.
“Ngh…fuck, Y/N,” he whines into her ear, holding on to her body for dear life.
“Hobie, I’m gonna cum,”
He smacked her ass then pulled her face towards his. "Call me baby."
"Baby, I'm gonna cum." He bites down on her shoulder and begins to really pound into her forcing quick breaths from her lungs.
When the both of them come undone, they stare into each others eyes, not saying a word. She slowly grinds into him, and it overstimulates the both of them.
“Fuck, doll,” he whimpers looking between their stomachs. He was completely seated inside of her, and made him want to go for a second round. It normally would take him a minute to get himself back up, but with the way she was yearning for him with her eyes, it won’t take him long before he flips her around and takes her from behind.
As the both of them were coming down, Hobie began to feel an overarching sense of anxiety. This wasn’t Spidey-sense as there wasn’t any feeling of danger. No. Hobie was feeling…grief.
Grief from what? Why is it that he didn’t want to stop humping into her? Making her whisper curses into his ear? Was it because if he did, that would mean what they were having was over? If he pulls out of her, he’ll put on his clothes, find an alley, and travel back to Earth-138. Hobie can’t see or contact her. He would be gone forever.
Did she feel the same? Is that why she refuses to let go of him? Why she sounds like she’s on the verge of tears as she continues to milk his dick?
He could use some rest. He wanted nothing more than to finish smoking and fall asleep. But, when he thought of his bong at home it felt…wrong. As if there was a question and that wasn’t the right answer.
Why is he instead thinking about finishing what they were smoking then falling asleep on her bed? He needed to get a fucking grip. So he knocked out of his stupor. It felt like a bucket of cold water splashed over him and he came back to reality
She felt the shift. The thought they both shared that it was time to stop. Their time together has come to an end. The toll of a bell rings through her chest, and she fights the tears as she climbs off of him, kissing him sweetly before she goes.
Hobie sits there and looks at her standing up. He enjoyed that kiss. He wanted another one. He needed another one. He swallows his spit and asks her, “How was it?”
She smiles at him shyly. She was just the prettiest thing he had laid eyes on. “Amazing, Hobie.”
He smiled in content and relief. “I live to please,” he joked. It was otherworldly for him.
She giggled and walks by him, but before she could go, Hobie grabs her arm and pulls her down towards him. He captures her lips in a blissful kiss, then lets her go so she can walk to her room for a minute. Hobie isn’t sure what she’s doing, but while she’s gone, he lets his mind run. Tonight, he had found a perfect woman. She was beautiful and disruptive, not performative in anyway. All the qualities of a superhero in one civilian body. If anyone deserved the spider bite, it was her.
This…can’t be the last time he sees her. And why does it have to be? No one cares about the casual travel rule; everyone visits each other’s worlds all the time for whatever reason. The only thing was doing it sparsely so Miguel doesn’t catch on. Hobie could pop in here and there, right?…but would she want that?
How could it even work? He has no way of contacting her, so she’ll never know when to expect him. Is she just supposed to wait for the one day he can finally show up?
This was frustrating. Hobie always breaks the rules. He does what’s not supposed to be done, but he can’t figure out how this relationship would ever work. He can’t bring her with him, lest her particles stretch, bend, and spread across space and time, and he can’t stay here. His people need their spider man.
Damn, he wants to keep her so bad. She is perfect. Even if he could get to America back home, he would never be able to find her. The story is different in every universe. Hell, she probably wasn’t even in America.
She comes back into the living room adorned with pjs to see Hobie standing with his clothes back on. The condom had long been thrown away. Some of his belts and accessories were off as well as his jacket, but he looked as though he was ready to go. She felt…broken. And she didn’t know why.
This wasn’t her first one night stand, but she doesn’t think she’s ever clicked with someone like this before. Definitely not a stranger. Definitely not a fine stranger like him. He was perfect to her, in every sense of the word.
And she to him. Certainly, this was his Gwen Stacy. “You goin’?” She whispered. She cleared her throat and held up the roach. “Thought you would want to finish this.”
Hobie could feel that she was just as desperate to get him to stay as he was inclined to. He looked into her longing eyes with some of his own feelings, and considered a possibility. If Miles can have his Gwen from a different universe, why can’t he have the same? It worked for Miles.
And he knows the answer. It’s because she’s a regular person. Hobie is Spider Punk. He doesn’t belong here, and she doesn’t belong with him. But it wouldn’t hurt to dream of getting what he wanted.
He clears his throat. “I, um…” he couldn’t find the words he wanted to convey. How does he say, “I’m a spider man from a different universe and we will never see each other again.” without scaring her from how clinically insane it sounded?
Luckily, she speaks for him. “I’m saying…you can stay the night.” She finishes confidently. “If you wanted.”
He did. He did want to. He wanted to stay with her so bad. But he shouldn’t. He’s spent way too much time here, and he has no idea what would alert Miguel…he should go. He should go. He really should go.
Hobie…
Go.
“I would love too.”
Her beautiful smile makes its appearance and the doubts that Hobie had melted away. He drops his things and start to take off his shoes. When he walks towards her, he notices how badly she’s struggling to contain her excitement and he knows he made the right choice.
“…Just for the night,” She says, giving him the roach.
“Yeah.” He takes it from her and grabs her hand to walk down the hall into her room. “Just for the night.”
He’s gone before the sun is up the next morning.
ending a/n: I hope y’all liked this. I love writing angst so much y’all don’t even understand I had to put some in here. And yes, he takes her hair down for her.
I am cursed with writing way too much and I apologize for all that reading. I hope you still enjoyed it. It was very fun to write and it’s probably one my most favorite things I’ve ever written. I love Hobie so much, maybe I’ll write for him again idk chile. Maybe I’ll write these two again in an unrelated fic. Or maybe I’ll continue this and y’all can get y’all’s happy ending. Maybe. I don’t rly write those lmao.
Part 1 Epilogue
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Taglist: @otaku-degenarate
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cheynovak · 7 months
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Happy ever after?  
Sequel to: Another, other Cinderella story.
Soldier Boy x Reader (Y/N)  
Warnings: Angst, Smut, 18+, Alcohol, Soft dominance, ...   
Side note: English isn’t my first language.   
Words:  7286
*Does not follow The Boys storyline!* 
If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.
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Y/N is the rebellious daughter of a famous actor in the 1960. Her dad wants to keep her out of the public eye, since he cheated on his wife with her mother. All she wants to do is leave, have fun and start a life of her own. On one of her father’s parties, she meets Soldier Boy, who despite his reputation falls for the young girl. She is mesmerised by him, but how long can he hold the little rebel from discovering the world?  
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Y/N woke up from the sunlight on her face. She turned around to feel her bed already empty and cold. Which unfortunately wasn’t a surprise anymore, he hasn’t been home for weeks.  Ben got more and more tasks, missions and projects since Vought knew about them.  
And even though he did manage to give her a nice condo, she did miss the action and fun she used to have in her old life. The last couple of months became clear he wanted her for himself, a nice woman to come home to. But deep down she knew that isn’t who she really is.  
Her dreams were to travel the world, see beautiful nature, cities that come to life at night, enjoy different cultures. She hoped Ben would be the same, but his red, white and blue blood thought there was nothing better than the USA. Why would one want to travel to let’s say Europe.  
But for now, she was content. 
Y/N got up and did her daily morning routine, she threw on one of Ben’s old shirts, she loved the fact it smelled like him, tobacco, vanilla and some other spices. She walked in the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee, while loading the washing machine, she would take a quick shower. Ready to start the day fresh.  
She lifted his shirt over her head and looked in the mirror, noticing a pretty big bruise on her hip. Y/N’s finger mover over the spot when realising Ben got a little too excited the last night they had spent, before him leaving. Maybe time to remind Ben again she is not a supe. Although the night itself she didn’t mind his roughness.  
While the hot water was streaming over her slightly sore body, her mind started to drift away to all the placed she once read about. Hoping that one day Ben would agree to come along with her. But for now, it stays with daydreaming.  
After breakfast Y/N went into town, trying to get her mind off of the fact that Ben was gone for a while to shoot a documentary on his life. And she was, once again, left to herself to enjoy life. Unconsciously she walked towards the travel agency.  
She stopped in front of the store, looked through the window. Asia, Europe, Africa, ... before she knew it, she stepped inside. It took almost an entire afternoon, the shop assistant was very friendly and helped her pick out 3 trips worth seeing.  
With books and information under her arm she walked back to the condo when she heard a familiar voice. “Y/N?” She turned around seeing the twins, Anna and Sara, she once befriended in school. “Oh my...Hi! How are you guys?” She hugged them.  
Y/N invited the girls over to her apartment for a cup of coffee. It had been almost 9 months since graduation. “Wow, girl you really did good for yourself.” Sara said looking around in the pretty big place. “It’s all from Ben, to be honest.” Y/N said while emptying her bags on the counter.  
“You really went through with that didn’t you?” Anna asked curiously. “We both thought it was just another one of your casual hook ups.” Y/N blushed hearing that. Answering, “Turns out he has something worth sticking around for.” -” Clearly.” They both said at the same time.  
The afternoon coffee turned into late night wines and take out Chinese food. Y/N never really thought often about her old life, but this lovely evening made her homesick, thinking about the fun times she was around her friends.  
Anna, Sara and Y/N agreed to see each other in the morning for breakfast and a shopping day. Just to relive their high school Saturdays. Y/N waved the girls goodbye at the door, smiling when she walked back inside.  
Y/N looked back at the mess they left on the table. “Right.” she let out with a satisfied sigh, she turned on the radio before cleaning and placing the last food scraps in the fridge. The music made her hum.  
She closed the fridge, jumping up when she noticed Ben leaning on the cabinets in the kitchen. “Yeez, Ben, you scared me.” She smiled as he walked towards her without saying a word. Her back pushed against the fridge. 
His hand went through her hair, while he looked in her eyes. “Hi.” Y/N whispered, drowning in his beautiful green eyes. His lips turn into a small smirk. “Hi.” he answered with the same tone before his lips claimed hers.  
Ben’s hands roamed over her body, it wasn’t new to her, him coming home and needing some sort of relieve before being able to have a ‘normal’ conversation. Y/N managed to break free for a second to breath. His mouth found its way to her neck. Sucking and kissing her skin.  
“I would really like to clean the rest of the table before going to bed.”  
” Who said I want to go to bed.” His voice sounded muffed against her neck. “The kitchen is good enough for me.” His hands moved from her thighs back to her cheek, demanding her head to look at him, so he could kiss her again.  
“B-Ben, I’m serious... give... me... 2 seconds.” she managed to say in between his hungry kisses. He let go of her lips with a deep and annoyed sigh. “Fine, hurry.” He answered grumpy. “I don’t want the room to smell in the morning.” She explained herself while Ben leaned back watching her.  
Secretly he loved that she played the role of housewife. Might even say it turns him on. His eye fell on the books that were lying on the corner of the kitchen cabinet. His curiosity took over, “What are you reading?” He asked while looking through the books. 
“Er, some travel research, just inspiration.” His eyes shot up from the counter to her. “Travel? You’re still thinking about leaving?” - “Well, not leaving.” She said rinsing the rag. “More like explore.” Y/N could feel his look, his disapproval, afraid to look up.  
A little hum was all he responded before she felt the warmth of his body radiating against her back. She felt his big hand caressing her hair, almost petting her. “Maybe you need a reminder.” His hand covered her neck right underneath her chin, pulling her head back.  
“Now, are you done?” His husky voice whispered against her ear. She nodded slow, part of her hated his dominant side, hated the fact that it turned her on as much as it did. Months ago, she would never, ever give up control. But with Ben, it was different.  
He turned her around before lifting her on his shoulder like a ragdoll, caring her to the bedroom. “I thought you didn’t want to go to the bedroom.” She answered a little sassy.  Ben’s hand landed flat on her ass. Making her gasp shortly. “Auw!” She sneered.  
He dropped her on the bed, hard enough to see the matrass bounce her back, ones. “You really need to learn how to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut.” His voice sounded deep and firm. “I thought you like me loud.” She said while pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh.  
She would have sworn his lip twitched at that comeback. But his dominant side came back fast. “Strip.” He said while looking down on her. Y/N did as she was told, throwing her clothes on the other side of the bed until she was bare.  
“Come here.” Ben said still fully dressed in his suit. She crawled towards him, the second her face was within reach he pulled her up by the back of her head. Making her kneel in front of him, his thumb moved over her partly separated lips.  
Y/N felt his finger pushing between her lips making her automatically wrap her lips around it and suck softly. Ben’s lips curled into a smirk, “That’s it baby girl. That is all I want that mouth of yours to do.” He said while pulling his finger out of her mouth.  
He looked down to his belt, giving her a silent order before he took off the bulletproof vest he wore over his shirt. Y/N undid his gun belt, unzipper his pants. She’s mouthwatering only by the thought of him. She never liked giving head, but the way Ben praised her made up for it.  
Ben was already hard for her, he lazily strokes himself a few times. “Open that dirty mouth.” once again she obeyed without a question. Her hands moved up his thighs, on their way to the base, so she could help herself a little.  
“Na-ah, hands on your lap, doll.” he said while he held her head. Y/N could feel his large hands guide her over his warm length, tasting the precum on her tongue. She looked at him while her eyes started to fill with tears. Each time Ben pulled her in she felt him further in her mouth.  
She focussed on taking him without gagging. “That’s it, good girl.” His praises made her moan around his cock. “You like it don’t you, sucking my dick.” She noticed a crack in Ben’s voice, she knew he was enjoying her moans. So, good girl as she is, she moaned again when Ben hit the back of her throat.   
And again... and again. Making Ben growl underneath his breath. His hips unable to stay still, he really wanted to fuck her mouth, but knew he would hurt her if he did. So, a little to his disappointment he needed to hold back.  
By the time he pulled out of her mouth the tears were streaming down her cheeks, her mascara ran out just a little under her eyes. “On your back. Hands above your head.” while she placed herself on the bed, she noticed him taking of the last pieces of clothing.  
He hovered above her, “now tell me baby, who do you belong to?” He asked sweet yet demanding, while his fingers moved in between their bodies, spreading her wetness with his fingers. Her head snapped back, gasping for air. “Hm? Who owns this tight pussy?” He repeated his question.  
“Y-you... Oh... Ben.” She felt the sharp sting of him pushing his dick all the way inside her. Her hands snapped to his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer. But before she could do so, Ben had his grip on her wrists above her. “I said hands above your head!” he commanded again.  
Ben’s thrusts were hard, sharp, normally he waits for her to adjust, but today he was needy. She felt the grip on her arm tighten when she fucked her so hard it was on the brim between pleasure and pain. “B-Ben... Slow..” He interrupted her by kissing her, forcing his tongue in her mouth.  
This movement made him slow down just a second, until he abrupt stopped. “What’s wrong doll, can’t take me anymore? Didn’t I fuck you enough lately?” His voice sounded sarcastic. “Need me to stop?” He asked while pulling out, making her whine at the sudden emptiness.  
“No, no Ben. Please.” She pleaded. “Please what?” He smirked. “Please, please fuck me... Please don’t stop!” She begged him, her hips moving underneath him trying to find friction. Before he pushed back into her, he let go of her wrists but pressed his hand down on her throat.  
Making her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Look at you, such a needy slut.” He pounded hard, holding his face next to hers “You’re not leaving me. You’re not going anywhere.” He breathed heavy. “All you’re going to do is fuck me. Whenever, wherever I want.”  
Y/N felt his thrusts getting uneven, the rhythm of his hips slowed down. One last thrust, one last growl, and Ben came inside her. His hold on her neck loosed and for the first time she realised how strong it was.  
Ben rolled of her, breathing heavy. He pulled her close to him, caressed her back. After a few unspoken seconds she opened her mouth, “I’ll be right back.” but the second she placed her feet on the floor trying to walk to the bathroom, she felt lightheaded. Ben noticed, jumping out of bed holding her.  
“Hey, hey, calm down, get back in bed. I’ll get a washcloth. Take it easy sweetheart.” All of the sudden all of the dominants in his voice changed to worry. Ben walked out holding two wash cloths. “Here.” He said, placing a wet cold one on her neck. She looked confused until she realised it felt amazing against her soar skin.  
“I keep forgetting you’re only human.” He said while taking care of her. “Is that an apology?” her voice sounded hoarse. She knew it was his way of saying he cared for her and that he was sorry. Or at least she hoped.  
He crawled back in bed. “Just, be more careful next time, ok?”  She whispered against his shoulder. Ben kept looking at the ceiling. “Or we could find another way.” Y/N didn’t understand him. He noticed her confused look.  
“Vought suggested to turn you into a supe, and honestly, I wouldn't mind.” She opened her mouth, “Hell no!” She answered harsh. “Hold your horses sweetheart, I told them you wouldn’t want that.” - “Why would you even want me to be one. Compound V is poison, it kills people.” 
“No, it doesn’t, that’s a gossip created by anti-believers.” - “Ben, I can’t believe this, a-are you serious?” -” Jesus Y/N, just...Stop lay down, relax.” - “No! No, I need to know Ben. Why would you want that? I’m a not good enough?”  
“It would be nicer not to hold back every time I touch you, yes.” She heard the hint of annoyance in his voice. “You’re a fucking porcelain doll in my hands. Like walking on fucking eggshells around you. I constantly need to think of it in the back of my head, quiet the turn off when you’re fucking someone.”  
Y/N held back every insult she wanted to throw at him. Instead, she turned her back to him and covered her sore body with the blankets. Feeling her eyes tear, not wanting him to see how deep those words hurt her. “Then why don't you find someone who is fucking perfect for you.” she whispered under her breath.  
The next morning, to her surprise she noticed Ben still sleeping, laying on his stomach, hugging the pillow. Due to their fight last night, he didn’t have the time to tell her they finished shooting early being able to be home for a few days. 
The doorbell rang Y/N put on a robe, before answering the door. Ben lifted his head, looking over his shoulder wondering who was here at this time. Y/N completely forgot the twins were here for breakfast and a day out. 
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” They yelled, hugging her, while holding balloons and a basket filled with croissants and sweets.  “You remembered.” Y/N seemingly surprised. “To be honest I'm not prepared yet.” She felt her cheeks blushing.  
“Don’t worry we’ll help you with the table.” The women fell immediately in their old habit of laughing and joking. Ben heard Y/N’s laugh in the other room, it gave him a warm feeling. But also, he felt a little guilty he didn’t got her anything for her birthday. He never even asked her when it was.  
After a short while Ben walked out the bedroom, wearing a sweatpants and shirt. He looked at the women around the table before he poured himself a coffee with wiskey. “You want something to eat?” Y/N asked. “Hm, yeah.” he grumped.  
She walked over to his grumpy ass in the kitchen. “Why didn’t you ever tell me your birthday?” He whispered a little irritated, she bends over to grab him a plate. “You never asked me.” She placed the plate next to him on the counter.  
“Plus...” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I had no idea you would be here today.” Ben didn’t hug her back, he noticed the light bruise on her neck. He just moved her robe slightly and kissed her sore neck before making sure it was covered again with robe.  
He turned around, to fill the empty plate, leaving for the open kitchen again. Not in the mood to join the girls.   
Y/N’s friends noticed the tension between them, “Everything ok?” - “Yeah, it’s nothing... Hey I’m going to get ready.” - “Where are you going?” They heard Ben from the kitchen while he crushed a few tablets on the counter. “We made plans to go shopping.” - “Have fun.” He said while snoring a line.  
Ben hated the fact that she went out, leaving him alone, but deep down he knows he can’t tie her up wanting her to wait for him like a lap dog. He saw the books again. She wants to leave me, she will leave me. Was all he thought.  
Y/N got home by 9pm a little tipsy, she saw Ben watching a tv show, his brows still frowning. “Honey I'm home.” She joked while dropping her purse on the table. Ben looked up at her, clearly not liking the state of her. “Took you long enough.”  
“Sorry mom.” She started to giggle at her own response. “Are you drunk?” Y/N could hear Ben’s disapproval. His tone surprised her. “Yess-sir” Y/N placed her hands on her hips after saluting him. “Had no idea I had to justify my action to you. Especially when you’re the picture of class.”  
Ben’s brows lifted. ”Come again?” -” You swear like a sailor, drink like a fish and take drugs like a, a, a fucking rockstar. Pretty embarrassing meeting my friends like that.” 
Y/N didn’t stop there. “You have no manners, whatsoever. You think you’re a gentleman while you are NEVER gentle with me. Ever thought about the fact that I actual love you?” Ben, surprised by her confession, walked slowly towards her.  
She continued her preach “...And that being loved, making love would be so much more satisfying mentally, maybe if you thought about anyone else except yourself for once, you would have noticed I'm rotting in this golden cage for you... YOU, BEN!”  
She made her way to the bedroom, leaving Ben standing in the living room. “Oh, and next time when you hear it’s someone’s birthday, you wish them a fucking HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” She yelled before smashing the door close. Her words lingered in his head. She loves me...  
Ben knew he felt different about her, different than any other person he’s ever been with, but he never thought of the idea this might be love. After a second that felt like an eternity, he opened the bedroom door only to hear the water running in the bathroom.  
Y/N heard Ben moving around in the bedroom next door, her tears blended with the water streaming down her face. She couldn’t believe she said all that to him, hoping it wouldn’t backlash. Because no matter how much she wanted to leave this place, she wants him more.  
She took all the courage she had to face him again. Ben was already sitting in bed, watching her walking over to her side, crawling under the covers. He still thought about the fact she, even though she was angry, admitted she loved him.  
He wanted to tell her he felt the same, or at least say something. But he had no idea how to.  “Goodnight.” was all she said giving him a soft peck on his cheek, before turning off her light.  
Y/N felt Ben moving behind her sinking down in bed, to her surprise he wraps his arms around her. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” he whispered in her ear before giving her a small kiss on her shoulder. She turned around facing him, nose to nose under the covers. “Thank you.”  
“And... I am...” Why was it so difficult to say he was sorry. “It’s ok. I know.” she said. Her hand moved to his cheek, feeling the light stubble growing under his skin. The air shifted, Y/N felt warmth rushing through her veins when Ben’s lips caressed hers.  
Their kiss deepened but she noticed a difference in his touch. Softer, more loving. “Ben... I’m exhausted.” She sighs while breaking the kiss. “I know.” He pulled her close to him. “Try to get some sleep, doll.” His large hands caressed the back of her head. “Sweet dreams.” He mumbled against her head. 
That night was the first time in a long time Y/N slept good, really good. Her face was hugged by Ben’s chin and chest. His steady heartbeat made her feel at ease, the circles Ben’s fingers drawn on her back felt soft and loving. Unfortunately, she got woken by the sound of the phone on the nightstand.  
Y/N felt Ben’s body move right before he answered the phone, letting go of her. Ben answered with an irritated sleepy voice. “Hm? Yeah, ... now? Can’t this wait? Hm, ok.” - “Duty calls?” She asked when he turned back to her. “Yes.” She lifted herself a little so she could kiss his grumpy lips. 
Ben held the doorknob in his hand, without looking to her, he asked: “I know there is a lot we still need to talk about, just... just promise me you wait with... making decisions until we had a decent conversation?” For the first time she saw a nervous Ben. he couldn’t even look at her.  
“I’ll be here when you come back.” She reinsured him. Ben nodded before leaving for Vought.  
---  
A few days had passed. A man had called her today, saying he was an assistant at Vought, clamming Ben wanted her to come to Vought. This was unusual request, but she was hoping he wanted to talk about all that had happened over the past few days.  
Y/N was led into a small waiting room, sitting next to the security guard she met months ago. He greeted her at the door claiming to bring her to Ben. The blond receptionist kept giving her judgy looks. Y/N heard her phone ringing, she stopped typing only to answer it, when she hung up the phone, she told Y/N she could enter the room now. Still being followed by the big fella.  
Once inside she noticed Ben wasn’t there, the uncertain feeling in her gut became fear. “Why am I summoned here? Who are you?” her voice almost broke trying hard not to let her fear out. “Ah, miss. Y/L/N/, good to finally meet you. Please sit.”  
"You can call me the legend, Senior Vice President of Hero Management here at Vought. You may have heard of me.” - “I’m sorry can’t say I have.” She said while taking the chair opposite his. 
“We asked you to come here to discuss an urgent matter. We are aware of your relationship with Soldier Boy. And he made it very clear he doesn’t want to break things off with you. And even though we are thrilled there is a woman out there who can, tame, our best soldier, we still want to make sure he knows his duty. “ 
“I don’t see the problem. As far as I know he has been up and ready every time you called.” - “Well miss Y/L/N you are not around when he is doing his job. On his last job, a documentary he left, leaving us with a lot of debt to a lot of people.”  
“Because I quote: “He didn’t need this fucking job, and he sure as hell don’t need a team, he can spend his time with someone better.” That did sound like Ben. “Now we, at Vought, believe a crew would lighten the workload and encourage young supes. You know send a bright message to the world.” the man gave his sales pitch.  
” Let me guess, you want me to convince him?” Y/N interrupted his story. “Well, actually miss Y/N, can I call you Y/N?” She nodded once. “We want you to be part of it, guide Ben in being a leader, show the young girls out there a woman can accomplish the same things a man can. After all you are quite the rebel back in the day I heard.”  
Y/N frowned, “Oh Soldier boy couldn’t stop talking about the young girl turning her back to her family to run away with him. Almost a fairytale we want to tell.” Y/N’s suspicions grew bigger, shifting in her chair.  
“But then again...” He stood up walking over to her. His hand moved away her hair. “ We don’t want the world to see that our beloved hero leaves bruises on pretty little girls.”  His hand moved over the sore spot on her neck. Making Y/N push his hand away.  
The bodyguard took a step forward, but the legend waved him away. “I don’t care about your popularity.” Y/N said. “But you do care about him, and he does care about his status. So here is the proposition, we give you the power, make you a superhero, and you get your life out in public with Ben.”  
“No.” Y/N could see the old man’s brows frown. “Sorry?” - “Are you deaf, I said no.” Y/N got up, but the large man blocked her. “I really wanted to do things different sweetheart.” She heard the older man say before she felt a pinch in her neck.  
The next thing Y/N knew she woke up under rubble, her throat was dry from the dust around her. She would have sworn she heard Ben’s voice. She tried to call for him but was unable to get a sound out of her. A beam of light shined on her face. “WE GOT ONE.” She heard a man yell.  
Bricks and other rubble got lifted of her, piece by piece. Her legs still trapped under a metal beam. “We need assistance here, she is trapped.” The man called out. Y/N vision was troubled. “Y/N? Oh god Y/N!” This time she was sure, she heard Ben’s voice.  
Ben lifted the beam of her legs before he kneeled down next to her. “I got you sweetheart, hang on.” He carried her in his arms, her weak body close against his. “MOVE!” she heard him shout at the people in front of him. He brought her over to the ambulance. “Soldier boy, there are still other people trapped in the store.” 
He looked at the police officer in charge, “looks like there is enough help from the fire department and the police. I’m going to the hospital with her.” he closed the door of the ambulance with Y/N in it. The entire ride he held her hand, worried, trying to understand why she was in the travel agency again. She did promise him not to make decisions before they could talk.  
Once in the hospital it became clear Y/N needed blood and quickly and even then, it wasn’t sure she would make it. Ben was angry and upset. He yelled at the doctors they needed to do more when he felt the legends hand on his shoulder. “There might be a way to help her heal up faster.” - “No, no she won’t...” he thought for a second. “She would never agree to turn her into a supe.”  
“Who said anything on turning her my boy. She needs blood, give her yours.” Ben looked at the doctor. “Could that work?” - “It might. We never tested it.” Ben looked through the window at Y/N laying in the hospital bed with a weak heartbeat on the monitor. I can’t lose her. He thought. “Ok”  
Little did he know, Vought had run tests with Ben’s blood. Turned out that injecting someone with enough blood would change them. Ben had enough compound V in his system that his blood made it possible to create or change the cells inside another person. Only if their body was shutting down, his blood would react like a surviving mechanism.  
-- 
Y/N woke up from a discussion in the hall, without opening her eyes she knew it was Ben. “You told me she is healthy, then why the fuck isn’t she wake yet!?” Slowly she opened her eyes, getting used to the light in the room. The fog before her eyes cleared, but soon she felt the pounding headache making her growl under her breath. 
She looked around the room noticing Ben was talking to the doctor in the hall, she saw that the door was closed. Weird I thought he was standing next to me. Y/N thought. “Ben?” she softly spoke. She saw him turning his head looking at her through the window before storming inside. “Hey doll. How are you feeling?”  
Y/N thought about that for a second.” Part from the headache, fine. What happened?” - “A terrorist blew up midtown, you were.... shopping. I found you amongst the victims.” Y/N couldn’t recall this happening, couldn’t even remember she went shopping in the first place.  
“How many...” Her voice broke. “Everyone made it. You lost a lot of blood, we had to eh, give you a blood transfusion.” She saw the terror in Ben’s eyes. “What’s wrong?” - “You almost didn’t make it. And eh, we decided to try something... new. We, eh, gave you, my blood.”  
“What?” - “We gave you, my blood.” he repeated. Y/N blinked her eyes a few times, trying to understand. The doctor walked in checking her vitals one last time. “So, what side effects does that give?” Both men looked at each other. “I presume there will be side effects.”  
“We don’t know yet, but there is a possibility you will have his powers or maybe even copy some of his personality traits, just for a while until your blood fought off his cells.” The doc said. “Is that why I have a headache?” - “That’s my best guess. You may leave the hospital now, but I would like to see you for a check-up later this week.”  
The entire ride home Y/N didn’t say a word, the thought of having his blood, compound V, rush through her veins made her stomach turn. But she also knew he did it to safe her. Once inside their safe space in the apartment she turned towards Ben, wrapped her arms around his ribs and just hugged him. He answered by rubbing his hand on her back.  
“Y/N?” - “Hm?” - “Why were you at the travel agency?” - “I don’t know, I don’t even remember going shopping.” she looked at him. Y/N saw the fear in his eyes. “I just... thought, we would talk when I got back.” He pulled her arms off him. “But it seems you already made your decision without me.”  She shook her head, “No.”  
“How can you say that when you don’t even remember a thing.” His voice turned cold. “Because I remember our fight, how miserable I felt, thinking I want to be with you, Ben.” She could see he wasn’t convinced yet. “Ben, let’s talk now. Let’s fix this, this tension between us.” - “There wouldn’t be tension if you just knew your place!”  
“My place? Where the fuck would that be!” She matched his tone. “You know what, fuck this, no! Fuck you. Since the first day we met you claimed me like some fucking price. I’m no fucking object you can buy. I’m not a toy you can play with when you’re bored! I’m done. I’m so, SO DONE!” Y/N smashed her fist against the kitchen counter breaking the marble countertop. 
Ben grabbed her hand to check if she was fine. “Let go of me.” she pulled her hand out of his grip. “I’m still mad at you.” He looked him dead in the eye before she walked to the bedroom packing a bag. “What are you doing?” He stood in the door. “Maybe you need a little time alone. I know I do.” 
“Time alone?” - “Yeah, alone, like not being used to me waiting around for you, not being able to visit your puppet, you know the one you think about only when your fucking boner talks to you.” Y/N was ruthless, the things she said to him, she never even dared to say out loud afraid he would walk out on her. But now she felt strong enough to walk out on him.  
“I just saved your life.” - “You changed me into the last thing I wanted in this life.” - “We had no idea. This will all end sooner or later.” - “What if it doesn’t? I can’t even look at you anymore Ben. So fucking selfish.”  
Ben grabbed her arm. “If you leave know, you don’t need to come back.” He said in despair, his body screamed anger, his eyes trying to show dominance but glanced at hers in fear. Y/N nodded slow, letting his words sink in. “Good luck finding another fuck toy.”  
--  
Years passed; Y/N travelled the world like she wanted to. But never really being able to forget about Ben. She sends him a post card from every land she visited, not even knowing if he would receive them, or even still had the condo. But she needed to tell him about her days.  
Once she heard the news that Soldier boy and Crimson Countess started dating, she stopped sending cards. She hated herself for not getting home earlier, she always planned on getting home, talk to him, convinced him she still loved him. But she was afraid, afraid he would turn his back to her.  
Y/N needed the travel not just for the memories, but for her mental health. During her time alone she noticed more and more powers compatible with Ben’s. She had a hard time trying to figure out how to live with it, how to accept it. She used the time to find a cure, but never found one. So when she had to deal with the fact, she would be forever a superhero, she hated herself.  
-- 
Now many years later, Butcher had found her, via intel coming from the legend himself. “You want to win him over by bringing him the head of Countess on a silver plate? Boy you need much more than that.” He shook his head. “I suggest you find the reason he made his relationship with the young redhead public. Y/N.”  
The entire It couple gimmick began when Ben had the brilliant idea of making Y/N jealous. He had no idea where she was so reaching her was difficult, by the time he got her cards she was probably halfway around the world again. So, he agreed, after a few years, to leading a superhero team. Making Crimson countess his girl.  
When Y/N broke all contact, he started to appreciate crimson more and more. Desperately trying to forget Y/N.  
“Can I help you?” Y/N said to the men waiting at her door, in her New York apartment. “Maybe luv, we are looking for miss Y/N Y/L/N.” - “You found her.” she answered very calm, leading them inside. Hughie was surprised, thinking they were searching for a woman in her 80s. Not a young girl looking not even a day older as him.  
Butcher explained her how they found Ben. How he was the one to blow up mid-town. Y/N sat at the table looking over to Hughie, French and MM while Butcher kept giving his pitch. “So, you are telling me not only that Ben is still alive, but that he has a new superpower, radiation or something?”  
“Precisely luv.” She British fella grinned while leaning back in his chair. Y/N nodded slow. “And you want me to ‘control’ Ben, for... you?” - “Well to ease him. Making sure he won’t blow up again.” Hughie corrected trying to flash her a smile but to nervous.  
“Get the fuck out of my apartment.” She said looking Butcher straight in the eye. Who clearly didn’t expect her answer. “Out, before I kick you out.” She got up and opened the door for the men. ”Oh and a word of advice. No one, and I mean no one, can guide Ben. He does what he wants, when he wants and well, how he wants. So, good luck.” Y/N said before closing the door in their faces. 
But Butcher had made her curious, a part of her wanted to see Ben again, she always had known, the story of him being dead was fake.  She felt he was still alive, was it her undying love for him or the fact that his cells made her to who she is now a days. But she knew one day he would be back from the dead.  
So, Y/N decided to follow the men, seeing where Ben stayed. No intentions to meet him, but when she saw him, her heart stopped. She sat in her car watching Ben opening the small motel door, wearing a baseball shirt and sweatpants. But his physique was nearly untouched, she saw he was slightly skinnier, what to expect after 40 years of torture and sleep in Russia.  
Before she knew it, she stood in front of the door, letting out a deep sigh. “Please don’t be angry.” she whispered under her breath.  
--  
Ben held his hand up, making Butcher and Hughie shut up. “Did you...” he broke off the sentence he wanted to say walking towards the door.  
-- 
Right when Y/N wanted to knock on the door, it opened. Her eyes locked with his in an instant. “Hi.” she said breathing heavy. For a second that felt like a lifetime she stared at his beautiful eyes, roamed his face, noticing those freckles she loved. Feeling the desire to kiss his full lips. Needing to taste them once more.  
Ben kept looking at her like he saw a ghost. When he didn’t move aside or say anything, she started to regret coming here. “T-this was a mistake, I’m sorry to bother you.” But those words seemed to wake him up. Right when she wanted to turn away, he grabbed her tight, pulling her in his arms.  
She felt his chin and nose on her head, while one of his hands rested on her back the other one caressed her hair. “I thought I would never see you again.” He blurred out. “I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.” He slightly loosened his grip on her, only to look at her again.  
“You cut your hair.” He noticed the once luscious locks were trimmed to a long bob, making her hair wavy now. “Well, you grew a beard.” Her hand instinctively moved to his chin. Accidently moving her thumb against his lips.  
That small touch started the fire withing them. Ben immediately held the back of her neck, pulling her up to kiss her. Passioned but controlled, when they let go of each other, their eyes where once again locked. Butcher and Hughie left the room. “We shall give you two time to talk.” The Brit said when walking passed them.  
“Fuck I missed you, Doll.��� She could hear the heat in his voice. “How much?” she flirter, Ben’s lips curled in a smirk. “I’ll show you.” he whispered before finding her lips again. All their sorrow, doubts and fears flew out the window.  
Ben placed her down on the bed underneath him. His hands moved over her body, already stripped her from her clothing. His large hands cupped her breast, kneading softly before pulled her bra straps down.  
His lips sucked at her already harden nipples. Making her moan his name in a prayer. “You haven’t aged a day. Still so fucking beautiful.” He breathed out when his hand moves in between them, finding her wet core. His fingers glided through her fold, coating before slipping two fingers inside her.  
“Hm.. Still so tight.” He moaned in her ear while her back arched. When Ben wanted to move down she pulled him back up by the back of his head. “Ben... I don’t want to wait.” - “Tell me what you want doll.”  
She pulled his shirt over his head before using her strength to turn them around. Pulling his pants down to his knees and straddled him. “I need you...” she pumped his hard, thick cock with her small hands. “Inside me, now.”  
“Are you sure?” His cocky grin appeared. “Fuck... yes.” she answered while she sank down on his cock. Letting her head fall back. Ben’s hands moved up over her breasts and neck. Her body instinctively started to grind against his. 
The moans and praised sounded out of porn movie. But for them this felt like heaven. Ben lifted himself, kneaded her ass cheeks while guiding her. While her hands found their way to the back of his head and shoulders. Feeling his slightly longer hair through her fingers. Tugging while her lips concurred his.  
Ben felt her tightening around his shaft, knowing she was close, he turned her on her back. Hovering over her while his hips found a little faster but, oh so good pace. He knew from that moment he wouldn’t be able to hold back when she came, and he didn’t care, he needed to hear her moan his name in ecstasy.  
“Oh Ben...” She moaned while her back arched, her legs tightened around his hip. “Let go sweetheart, I got you.” Where the last words she heard before blanking into a breath taking, leg shaking orgasm. She was so out of this world, that by the time she came down, she noticed Ben had his at the same time as her.  
Ben laid down next to her. She looked at him, “what?” he asked out of breath. “You were, softer than I remember.” She noticed. ”Well...” his hand moved over his face to his hair. “A very special girl once told me to be more... gentle. Something about making love would be so much more satisfying.” 
Y/N bit her lip. “And I promised myself, if she ever gave me a change, I would show her how a man makes love to his woman.” he added. Y/N felt tears of joy in eyes. His woman... She crawled back on top of him, kissing him once more.  
“Thank you.” She smiled.  
She noticed a question lingering on his lips. “What’s wrong?” His eyes found hers again. “Stay here, at least tonight.” Ben said, realising his words weren’t a question. So, he added “Please?” after a second.  
Y/N’s lips curled into a smile once more. “Why should I?” she teased, knowing it would drive him crazy. Expecting him to say something along the line of “I’ll make it worth your while, or I'm not done fucking you.”  
But no, he thought about it for a second and said:  
“Because I love you.”  
‐-------
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Rebel Yell -D.R.W
Author's Note: I am so happy to finally be able to put this out, this story took me ages but I am so very proud of it. Am I projecting here? Maybe. But hey, I too am living for the single life.
Synopsis: A shitty party gets turned around after a playful game of spin the bottle.
Word Count: 8.5k (you asked for it!)
Warnings: 18+ MINORS NEED NOT INTERACT. Alcohol, mild violence, foul language, rough sex, choking, spanking, slight domination, oral, fingering, raw doggin’ (wrap it before you tap the hottest guy at the party.) Smut but make it Danny with eyeliner. 
Pairing: Tattoo!Danny x Female Reader
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Have you ever even been to a party where you had a genuinely good time? One without awkward conversations with people you hardly know, one that matches the high expectations for a night that only happens in movies, or one where you have a few drinks and don't feel like vomiting all over the friend's car that drives you home? Well, this is worse than any party you've been to so far. Mainly because you're fucking ex and his friends are here. 
You pound the rest of your drink from the plastic red solo cup of Malibu and coke, who fucking made that anyway? It'll have to do until you can get a baker's dozen of shots poured for you to even think about being in the same room as him. The music is loud and obnoxious and the tile of the kitchen is sticking to the bottom of your Docs, but, at least you're in the clear. Looking around for a familiar face you find one of your girl friends you came here with, Summer. She's walking with your other friend who looks like she's had way too much to drink and is making a b-line to the bathroom. You do not envy them in the least, you would go and help but the anxiety building inside of your chest needs to be dampened with more liquor. 
Pouring yourself a more than hefty amount of tequila in your cup, you slam the whole double (most likely double and a half) shot down. You cringe and squeeze your eyes closed as you take a breath. You groan as the alcohol burns down your throat when you meet eyes with a guy across the room, some very tall drink of water with long dark curly hair, you saw him earlier in the backyard puffing on a joint with some long haired hippie wannabe looking friend with a stoner laugh to match.
You hold his gaze a moment in the crowded room, you think you saw smudged eyeliner on him earlier and had to keep yourself from nearly falling instantly head over heels for the bad boy in the black leather jacket and Church of Rock N Roll muscle tank. The combat boots and ripped black jeans with the chain hanging off his belt wasn't helping your cause either. He sends a small nod your way along with a subtle yet confident smirk that lights you on fire. You can't help but smile back, you can feel your heart race in your chest as you look away, keeping your cool as best as you can. You've been told before that people can read your mind based on the faces you make, subtlety not being your best quality. 
At least you have positive qualities, unlike your ex, Ryan. You had been dating for about two years, your longest relationship to date and your first real boyfriend. It started out great, he was super sweet and funny, gentle and interesting. But he got distant, so distant in fact that he would almost never reply to your messages or calls until it was too late and you started seeing each other less and less. It wasn't until you were out with friends to dinner one night when you saw him there with another girl. Long story short, they had been talking for a while and hooked up a few times, poor girl had no idea you even existed. So yeah, the lying dick head was here and grinding on every girl in sight. 
Being single again after so long has been feeling so foreign to you, almost like you were doing something you shouldn't, forgetting you have no loyalties to anyone anymore. So fuck it. Tonight, you were gonna have fun and flirt your ass off. Why shouldn't you?! It's been almost seven months since your messy breakup with Ryan, might as well have some fucking fun for the first time in a while. And hey, if you end up having some stupid one night stand, who cares? You're owed at least one good orgasm that's not by your own hand. 
The music is thumping through the house and you've had enough to really feel the music and let your body talk for you. You make your way over to the makeshift dance floor and sway to beat. Closing your eyes and just allowing yourself to let go of the anxieties you were holding on to. You meet eyes again with that curly haired guy again through the crowded floor, damn he's good looking. He takes a sip of his drink, eyes not tearing away from you as you sway your hips up against some girl behind you. She laughs and begins dancing with you, she spins you around and you get lost in the song, your eyes only flitting away to the guy leaning up against the wall who keeps meeting your eyes, his conversation with the three other guys he's with be damned. 
The crowd moves to the kitchen as someone brings up the idea of playing spin the bottle. It seems like the whole party has decided to gather in the kitchen, to play or just spectate around the round dining room table. You stand at the table and your stomach drops into your shoes when your ex is almost directly across from you. You move to leave when the hot guy you've been eyeing all night stands right beside you. 
"Hey." The tall drink of water says accompanied with a smile that makes you mirror his expression. "Hi." You reply almost shyly, he's quite intimidating to be honest, maybe it's the bone structure or his clothes but something about his warm brown eyes that makes you feel safe to talk to. "Big fan of spin the bottle?" He asks. "I've never played." You answer, fiddling with your rings, your eyes take in his appearance now that he's right in front of you, his smudged eyeliner making your heart skip a beat, fuck he's hot. 
"The rules aren't very difficult, I'm sure you'll be a natural at it." He teases, a smile pulling at your lips as he gets a chuckle out of you. "Well, if anything, I think it's a great way to make friends." You counter flirtatiously that makes the man smirk. "I'm Danny, by the way." He says introducing himself, finally giving a name to the gorgeous face, you extend your own introduction when all of a sudden a voice rings out, "Alright, fuckers listen up!" A guy begins to shout, holding up an empty beer bottle. "I don't care if you're gay, straight or anything in between! A spin is a spin! So either play or don't." The guy finishes before spinning the bottle, starting the game. You exchange a look to Danny who keeps his ground, ready to play, come what may.
The bottle spins several times with no real wild kisses exchanged. You're nervous for when it will land on you. The empty Dos Equis bottle is spun and the girl on the other side of you gets a kiss, prompting your turn to spin. You take a deep breath before and your bottle is spinning rapidly, you're practically sweating as the bottle begins to slow, coming to a stop on the long haired stoner guy Danny was talking to earlier. He's cute, tall, tan, with a sweet disposition, why not? The crowd around the table "oohs" as the stoner walks over to you. 
He gives you a small but gentle kiss, his hand on your cheek, he tastes like tequila and weed, he smells like cologne and his lips are a little dry, probably cottonmouth. The kiss doesn't last long but the excitement from the kiss makes you buzz with confidence. The guy gives you a wink before walking silently back to his side of the table. You take your place back next to Danny, he whispers in your ear, "I see you've met Sam." He jokes, "Well Sam's a pretty decent kisser." You smile back, Danny gives you a chuckle before he looks back at the game unraveling ahead. 
The bottle spins and spins for a few turns, you and Danny quip back and forth, passing the time and flirting a bit as the game rolls on. Danny even gets landed on by a friend of his, some shorter long haired guy who joined him by the wall near the living room dance floor. It's short but kinda cute to see two guys kiss without making a big deal about it, but instead joking about, "Who hasn't kissed their friends before?!" The friend laughs before going back to his spot, saying something in a very drunk and very fake accent. 
The bottle takes a few more spins, you watch uncomfortably as your ex kisses some red headed girl for a little too long and gets a little too handsy, only egging on the crowd. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and standing awkwardly. Danny gives you a look, tearing his eyes away from the scene ahead. "Will these two just get a room already?" He whispers to you. You can't help but show an uneasy expression, Danny must sense your discomfort because he asks you very gently, "Hey, you okay?" You nod quickly in silence, offering no reply. You look over at him, almost ashamed, "That's my ex." You say with a bitter taste left on your tongue. "Oh. Well he seems like a real stand up guy." Danny comments with a sneer, watching as Ryan practically sticks his entire tongue in the girl's mouth. It's like a train wreck, it's awful but you can't look away. A red solo cup is held in front of your face, "Here. You need it more than I do." He hands you the rest of his drink. From the smell of it, coke and fireball, which you happily sink the rest down, you sigh with a slight cringe as the drink slides down your throat. Danny brings his hand to your back comfortingly, "Good girl." He praises. That phrase shouldn't affect you the way it does but holy hell do you feel like a whole new woman. The pair finally disconnects and the game continues on. 
Your friend Summer appears behind you tapping your shoulder. "Oh there you are! Danny! This is my friend Summer!" You can already hear the semi drunkenness in your voice as you're introducing her to Danny. He smiles charmingly, "Hi, it's good to meet you." He introduces himself, "Oh, hi." She smiles, but you notice she's got her purse and your other drunk friend in tow. 
"We're leaving, Mari is a mess and I'm tired. Are you coming?" She asks, her keys jingling in her hand. They are your ride, but your night just got interesting. Fucking carpooling. You look back at the table and roll your eyes as you come to the realization that the party for you is probably over. "I mean, um, I guess-" "If you want, I can take you?" Danny interrupts, "If you don't wanna go, I can drive you later if you like?" His offer hangs in the air for a moment as you look at your friend, speaking practically telepathically with the other if that all sounds okay to the other. "Yeah. That would be great actually. Only if you don't mind, I don't wanna put you out-" "It's really no big deal." Danny assures you with a smile. Your friend shrugs, "Alright then. Just text me when you get home, okay?" Summer smiles at you knowingly. You widen your eyes at her turning your head so Danny doesn't see your obvious smile as she walks away. 
"You really don't have to do all that for me, I can take an uber or something later." "It's really no bother. Besides, I'd hate for you to miss out on having a good time. I think you deserve it, especially since that asshole gets to, I think it's only fair that you do too." Danny smirks as he motions to Ryan. You smile, your heart thumping in your chest with excitement at the idea of Danny driving you home. 
The game continues on and the guy next to Danny gets a kiss from some girl and it's Danny's turn to spin. You make accidental eye contact with your ex who just chugged the rest of his drink while his buddies laugh about something. It makes you practically freeze in an almost anxious fear until you hear the spinning glass begin to slow on the wooden table. The last rotations make its way around until the end of the bottle is pointed at you. 
You take a moment to even realize it's pointing at you, you look up at Danny, he wears a face of 'I'm down if you are.' A small smile pulls at your lips, this was exactly what you were hoping for when you joined the game. You step forward shyly, Danny brings a hand gently to your chin, "Let's give 'em a show, huh?" He rasps against your lips, only quiet enough for you to hear. You nod before bringing your own hands to his chest, letting him take you to his lips. His lips slot gently against your own, you move in time with his lips. His hands venture down to your waist, pulling you close to his body, he's so tall it makes you feel like swooning here in his arms. The crowd hoops and hollers loudly as you let him slip his tongue in your mouth, your nails come to his back, clawing into the back of his leather jacket. He smirks against your lips, his hands wander down toward your ass, but stays respectfully on your lower back. You bite his bottom lip, grinning as you meet his eyes again, they're darker than before and you want nothing more than to keep kissing him. 
You almost completely tuned out the woo’s of the party goers around you until now. You smirk at Danny, knowing damn well you put on a good show, and knowing even more that he's a great fucking kisser. 
"Fuckin' slut." A scoff sounds across the room. You turn your head fast to the voice the comment came from. Ryan rolls his eyes as he toys with his empty red cup. Before you can say a word, Danny stands up straight, "What the fuck did you just say?" He asks, his voice is deep, completely sincere in his question and it commands the room in a way that makes Ryan look in his direction. He scoffs again, the crowd hums with whispered excitement, "Just funny is all, a little desperate I think." Ryan says. "It's just part of the game, dude." Danny laughs. “Danny, really, it’s fine.” You say quietly, you gain his attention and he looks upset. “No, I think he’s a fuckin’ asshole.” Danny says to Ryan and the rest of the party. Ryan steps closer, his gaggle of idiot friends behind him making their way through to the side of the table by you and Danny. Sam comes up silently behind you and Danny, getting ready to jump in if the situation calls for it. 
“I just think maybe she and I broke up too soon, especially because she was never that freaky with me.” Ryan smirks at you, his friends laugh at his statement. Danny bows out his chest and looks down at Ryan who is only a few inches from meeting Danny’s eyeline. “Maybe you should learn to shut your mouth before it really gets you in trouble.” Danny threatens, his jaw is clenched as he stares Ryan down. “I’m not talking to you anymore, I’m talking to her.” Ryan says as he tries to walk past Danny and toward you, you take a step back, Sam places a hand on your shoulder to help guide you away from your ex while Danny puts an arm out, keeping you out of Ryan's reach. “I have nothing left to say to you.” You say, anger and anxiety adding a tremble to your voice. “We don’t have to talk, baby, what I have in mind doesn't require much talking.” He quips, your stomach churning at his words. “That’s enough.” Danny says firmly, putting a hand on Ryan’s chest, keeping him in his place. 
“Get your fuckin’ hands off of me.” Ryan shouts as he pushes Danny but he hardly even moves. “Then leave her alone.” Danny’s voice is deep and threateningly quieter as he steps even closer to Ryan. He smirks over Danny’s shoulder to you, "Oh come on sweetheart, just one last kiss, huh?" Ryan shouts at you. Danny shoves Ryan backward, he falls back into his friends. Ryan’s face twists into a furious scowl as he lunges towards Danny with his fist, but he’s too fast. Danny dodges the hit and swings, punching Ryan right in the nose. It spews blood as Ryan falls flat on his back onto the sticky kitchen floor, his hand comes to his face and his friends are too frozen in shock to do or say anything. A harang of people gasping and shouting and cheering echoes through the kitchen and it feels like time stands still until Ryan shouts, “You broke my nose?! You broke my goddamn nose!” 
“Then get the fuck outta here before I break your fucking legs!” Danny bellows at Ryan, his stance is intimidating and large as he leans over Ryan. Scrambling to his feet, Ryan stumbles as he gets up and to his buddies and begins heading for the front door. “Have fun with my left overs, asshole!” Ryan shouts over his shoulder. “You son of a bitch!” Danny shouts as he lunges forward, making a run for Ryan but Sam’s long arms grab a hold of his friend’s large frame first before he can even make it out of the kitchen, allowing Ryan and his posse of douchebags to run out the door. 
“Hey man, chill out okay. Just let it go.” Sam says, calming Danny down before letting go of him. Danny turns to look at you, his intense glare of anger in his eyes softening as they settle on you before him. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft as his hands hold your arms gently, bending a bit to speak to you. 
You blink rapidly as you try not to let the tears in your eyes fall. “Yeah, I’m uh, I just need some air.” Your voice cracks before you turn and walk out the back door to the backyard, letting the cool breeze of the night wind calm the heat of your embarrassed face. You look up and stare at the crescent moon in the sky, taking in a deep, yet shaky, breath and you can’t help but feel absolutely mortified by the scene that just transpired. 
Fuck Ryan. 
Fuck parties. 
Fuck this. 
“Hey.” A voice says gently, almost nervously behind you. You turn to find Danny coming out towards you. You turn back around and quickly wipe your eyes as you keep your arms crossed and your eyes trained up at the sky, dark clouds moving over the night sky and through the light of the moon. "I'm really sorry about all of that." Danny's voice is soft as he comes to your side. The thumping music from the party inside only makes you feel like curling up into a ball, never to be seen again. "It's fine. He's uh, yeah, he's not nice." Your voice is like a whisper, trying not to let it break as you hold back the tears that threaten to pull you down with them. "No, no he's not. I'm sorry." Danny apologizes again. "No I should be sorry, I feel like that was all my fault in there." You say, shaking your head. Danny's hand comes to your back, prompting you to look at him, "None of that was your fault-" "I should've just left when Summer said so. I knew he was here, him and his fucking friends. I hate that you got dragged into any of that. You don’t even fucking know me!" You say with a bewildered laugh as a tear rolls down your cheek. Your words hang in the cool autumn air for a moment before Danny speaks. "I think I know you enough to know that you're a really great kisser." He says with a smile, knowing that would make you forget about the whole Ryan thing, if only for just a second. You chuckle as you dry your eyes, "Oh my God, how could I forget." You smile at him, you can see his features perk up as you finally meet his eyes. "Besides, Ryan just seems like the kind of guy who deserves a punch in the face." He smirks pridefully as he thinks back to replay the look of shock on Ryan's face when he hit the floor. 
"It was kinda cathartic to watch the hottest guy at the party deck my ex in the nose." You smile playfully, turning to take in all of Danny's gorgeous face. He smiles charmingly, "Well, I'm just glad I got to kiss the hottest girl at the party." He muses before giving you a look that only makes you want to kiss him again, and again and again. You move to step forward but let your eyes wander to the house, a handful of prying eyes from the fight in the kitchen looking intently at you and Danny's conversation, only reminding you of how you wish you could be somewhere more private. 
"If the offer still stands, do you mind taking me home? I think I've had about enough of this party." You ask, crossing your arms to warm yourself from the evening breeze that seems to blow right through you. A smile pulls at Danny's lips, "Yeah I think I'm ready to go too, I'd say we made quite the impression though." He jokes before turning to leave, you walk along with him and head to his car. 
Your hands run up and down your arms, trying to preserve whatever heat you can keep from escaping your thin long sleeve shirt. Before you even really notice, Danny pulls his large leather jacket off and places it over your own shoulders. "There." He simply says. You smile to yourself before turning to him as you both walk, the whole thing feels like it swallows you up, the sleeves so long your hands aren't even poking through. "Fits you better than me." He jests with an endearingly sweet look, his smile is contagious and you can feel your cold cheeks warming from the blush on your face. You bury your burning face into the collar of his coat, relishing in the mix of musk and cologne of the well loved jacket. 
The ride to your place isn't too long, the conversation is easy and soon you're pulling up to your apartment. The silence in the car is heavy as you think of what to say next. "So-" "Do you wanna come inside?" You beat Danny to the punch, interrupting him. He meets your eyes with a look of subtle surprise, "I'd love to." He says, his voice low and soft in the confines of the car in a way that makes the butterflies in your chest explode. 
You show Danny up to your apartment, you close the door and take off his jacket, "Thanks for letting me wear your coat." You say before handing it to him, "What kind of man would I be if I let you freeze to death in the cold?" He jokes before taking it from you, hanging it on your coat rack as you both take off your shoes. You laugh before walking off to the living room, sitting on the couch, Danny follows suit and sits beside you. You both smile fondly and comfortably at each other, unsure of what step comes next. A familiar anxious feeling in your stomach begins to stir, one that could be described as really overactive butterflies when in such close and intimate proximity with a hot guy alone with you in your apartment. 
You cut through the silence with a scoff. "For the record, I just wanna say, you're a much better kisser than Ryan." You smirk, Danny chuckles, "I'm sure Ryan lacked in several departments." He smiles to himself, crossing his arms in pride. You stare up at the ceiling and huff a sigh. "Ugh, you have no idea." You wish you could say you had been in more of a slut era than you really were since your breakup, but honestly, it's been dry as hell. "That bad?" He cringes, bracing himself. "He was fine, just, I don't know, kinda… boring?" You reply, shrugging as you try and gently explain how your sex life for the last two years was less than satisfying.
"How bad was it?" Danny asks, you search the ceiling for a moment, Danny stirs next to you, sitting up straight, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry-" "No no it's fine! He just, uh, he just wasn't very um, creative?" You explain vaguely. Danny chuckles, "Creative?" He repeats with a smile, "Just that it was very vanilla I guess? He never really wanted to try anything new or different." "Sounds like he was pretty selfish." Danny extrapolates. "Oh absolutely. If it didn't end with him cumming first, he wasn't super interested." You explain irritatedly. 
"He's an asshole." Danny snarks, you just chuckle a knowing laugh. "Most times I had to use my vibrator later when I got home." You cringe with a chuckle as you recount the many nights you spent with a toy between your legs. "What would you think of?" Danny asks softly, "Oh." You pause a moment in anxiety at the idea of having to speak your innermost fantasies to this gorgeous man before you. 
Here.
Alone.
On your couch. 
You could feel the blush creeping in on your cheeks. "I uh, I liked to think about… ya know, getting tossed around, someone being rough with me." You confess, unable to meet Danny's eyes as you mess with the rings on your fingers. "Mmm, I see now. He was too soft? Too boring?" Danny speaks with a smirk that lights you on fire. "Y-Yeah, I uh, I'd bring up the idea but, he never really did anything new, maybe he thought it was weird?" You shift in your seat, ready to hear the judgment in Danny's voice. To hear the same put off tone like Ryan had. Instead, he places his hand on your knee, you turn to finally look at him. 
"I don't think it's weird at all. I like being rough." Danny smiles, you can feel the wave of relief washing over you. "Yeah?" You ask. "Mhm, to take control, to have a pretty little thing under me, letting me touch her all over, kiss her wherever, grab her however I want. Hear how good she feels." His voice feels like silk as he speaks, warming you all over. You can't think of a single thing that isn't a kin to 'fuck me', so you stay silent. You look over Danny's lips, he smirks at you as he moves closer. 
"Tell me what you've been dreaming of, angel, because I know I am a much better listener than that prick ever was." Danny grins, you can't help the hitch in your throat at the nickname. "Lots of things." You whisper. Danny smiles, his hand runs up your knee to your thigh, his large hand radiates warmth through your jeans to your skin beneath, fuck his hands are big. 
He leans in close, his cologne flooding your senses, his breath fanning gently over your lips as he brings his other hand to your chin, his eyes holding yours. "Did he never pull you onto his lap? Spank you over his knee? Squeeze his hand around your throat a little?" Danny asks, his finger under your chin holds you gently, your face is flushed as he tilts his head awaiting your answer. "Never." You whisper, your eyes practically begging his lips to yours, instead he runs his hand against your cheek, his thumb softly moves along your cheekbone. "Would you like that? If I did?" Danny asks softly, a rasp in his words sends a delicious chill down your neck. You nod embarrassingly quickly but it makes Danny chuckle at your eagerness. "Words, angel." He smiles. 
"Yes, I'd like that very much." You say, a slight shake in your voice, you almost don't even sound like yourself, you're so desperate. "Good. Because I think you deserve a good fuck." Danny pulls you in, a soft kiss at first, softer than the one at the party but it doesn't stay sweet. 
Your hands come to his face, to his hair, wanting to touch him where you've been dying to. Your kiss becomes more desperate, his tongue enters your mouth, your hands tug at his hair, he groans at the pull, smirking as he breaks the kiss, “Oh angel, that’s my job.” He teases before kissing you again, his hands on the small of your back brings you closer to him, bringing you on to his lap, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth making you moan. He pulls away, allowing you to grind down to feel his already hardening cock in his pants, you whimper out a pathetic sound at just the feeling of him near you. 
“You sure?” Danny asks, breaking the bad boy persona a moment as he reads your face, “Take me to my bedroom.” You sigh as you roll your hips against his. Danny sighs at the feeling of your movements before he huffs a small laugh, “Where is your bedroom?” He asks, you laugh, “Down the hall to the left.” You smile. With no hesitation, Danny stands from the couch, you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to your room, his hands holding you close to him as he makes his way down the hall. 
Your room is warmly lit, a gentle glow from your fairy lights and salt lamp you left on, Danny sets you down on your bed before looking around the room, “Cute.” He simply states, making you roll your eyes. 
You go to take your top off, “Wait.” Danny interrupts, you stop your hands, dropping the material of your sweater. “Come here.” He says, you smile in response as you make your way over to him, clambering off the bed and standing in front of him. Danny brings his hands to the hem of your sweater, pulling the material over your head and off to be discarded to the floor. “Pretty girl.” He smiles, a rasp to his voice makes you blush as you stand before him in your bra. He undoes the button of your jeans, pulling them down your legs until you stand before him in just your underwear. 
You stand before him, his eyes scanning your half naked figure, he gives you a ‘come hither’ motion with his finger, you walk up to him, your doe eyes looking up at him as his hands come to rest warmly on your sides. “So pretty.” He whispers, his voice bringing goosebumps to your skin. His hand trails down to your panties, his fingers running over the already dampened material. You sigh at the touch, “Mmm, already so wet for me. Aren’t you such a good girl?” Danny praises, his lips right against your ear as he speaks, your heart nearly jumps out of your rib cage at his words. “Just for you.” You breathe, Danny smiles, kissing your neck.
He pulls away, his hands come to his own shirt, pulling his church of rock ‘n roll tank top off, tossing it alongside your own discarded clothes. You watch astounded at the beauty of his body, the dark ink of the tattoos you never saw are revealed as he peels the tight black jeans from his body, leaving him clad only in a tight pair of black briefs, the outline of his dick takes your breath away. 
Danny pulls you to him in a gentle kiss, he pulls away after a moment, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bed. He sits on the edge of the bed, he pulls you on to his leg, you sigh at the contact. “Wanna watch you ride my thigh, show me how bad you want it.” He says, his hands on your hips, pulling you down onto his muscular thigh, making you whine. 
You roll your hips down against him, a moan rolls out of your throat as you grind down, you place your hands on his shoulders as you move, his hands come down to your ass, dull nails digging into the softness of your muscle. “That feel good, angel?” Danny asks teasingly, you offer a hum as you chase the feeling building up in your lower stomach, “Tell me baby, tell me how you feel.” He smirks, his grip tightening and pulling you to rock against him harder and faster, “Ah, fuck, so good.” You whine. “Yeah?” Danny asks, his hand coming down hard on your ass, you yelp out in shock, the stinging a delicious blend of pain and a euphoric sensation that only makes you wetter. “How good?” He asks, looking at the way your eyes have widened and the way your mouth hangs open, his hands gripping tightly, “So fucking good, oh god.” You cry out.
Danny brings his hand behind your back, unclipping your bra and pulling you closer to him, his lips latching around one of your nipples. You moan as you rock back and forth on his thigh, his teeth grazing your nipple, his other hand gripping the small of your back, encouraging you to move. The wetness in your panties and the friction on your clit against Danny's muscular thigh, feels like nothing you've ever felt before. He pulls away from your chest, his hands pull you to him as he flips you onto the bed and lies you on your back, manhandling you and laying between your legs. He kisses you hard before sitting back on his heels, a shining wet spot on his thigh tattoo catches your eye, making you blush. “You need it bad, huh, baby?” He teases, grinning at the wetness on his thigh. 
"God yes." You sigh. He looks so dreamy under the lights like this, like an angel with his curly hair catching the warm lighting from the salt lamp. The golden hue makes his skin look so soft and warm and you cannot wait to feel him. "Then let me give it to you." He smirks, his hands come down to your panties, he gives you one last look for permission that you immediately grant him before pulling them down.
You can’t stop the instinct of closing your legs out of shyness as Danny tosses your panties to the side, Danny laughs a moment at your coyness. “Oh, baby, don't act shy now. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl, show me what a good girl you are.” Danny’s voice makes you sigh, no one has ever talked this way to you before, you keep your eyes on him as you slowly open your legs. Danny’s eyes travel down to your glistening core and subtly palms himself over his briefs, only making you wetter at the sight. “Fuck angel, you are dripping.” His voice laced in seduction as his hands come to your thighs, spreading you wider. 
“So fucking gorgeous, all laid out for me. I want a taste.” His proposition makes your eyes widen. “Fuck yes please. I haven’t…” Your voice trails off making Danny look at you with an air of confusion, “Haven’t what?” Danny’s voice in that perfect mocking tone that makes your brain hazy. You can’t help but blush and look away before answering him. 
“I um, I’ve never really cum from… oral before.” You confess. Danny almost looks pained by your statement. “Never?” he asks as his hands softly wander up and down your thighs. “My ex didn’t do that much.” You say nervously, Danny brings his hand closer to your core making your breath hitch, he leans in close to you, his face inches away from your own, eyes boring into yours. “With a pussy as perfect as yours, I don’t see how he wasn’t between your legs all hours of the day.” Danny whispers as his hand slowly glides down to your center, you sigh as his fingers bring your wetness up and around your clit, making you moan. Danny smiles as he watches your expression change as his fingers roll slow wide circles over your clit, your mouth hanging open. 
“Let me take care of you, pretty girl.” He says softly before kissing your neck, down your chest, your stomach, kissing his way down all the while his fingers play with your clit. Danny lays down on the bed, he watches as his fingers make a mess of you. “If it ever becomes too much, just say Metallica, that’s the safeword.” He explains, you simply nod. “No angel, I need to hear it. Be a good girl and repeat it so I know you understand.” “M-Metallica, yes, I-I understand.” You stammer out, “Good girl.” Danny grins before kissing your inner thigh, heading closer until he removes his hand from your clit. You take a deep shaky breath as Danny’s breath warms over your folds, his warm tongue licking languidly up to your clit. You sigh a moan as he takes his time, licking slowly along the sensitive bud, your hands clawing at the duvet beneath you. 
Danny’s mouth moves faster, lapping up at your soaking wet pussy. He moans against your core, making your back arch, “Fuck, Danny.” You moan, Danny brings his hands to wrap tightly at your thighs, gripping you to him, holding you in place as he eats your pussy. The delicious sounds of Danny’s mouth makes you whimper at the beautiful lewdness of it all. “So fucking sweet,” it was muffled but you just barely registered it from Danny, like it was never even meant for you to hear but you did and fuck that was hot. “Oh fuck, holy fuck.” You cry out, your eyes rolling back in your head as you clutch tighter at the balled up comforter beneath your writhing body.
Watching as Danny’s mouth works over you, the way his large hands hold you open for him and the way his nose nudges against your clit as he tongue fucks your weeping pussy has you moaning and your legs shaking uncontrollably. The prideful smirk you catch on Danny’s features makes your breathing more uneven than before, because he is so fucking good at this and the way you’re moaning is making him want you to cum even more. “Oh god Danny. Fuck, I’m gonna-oh fuck I’m cumming, oh fuck.” You moan out as Danny latches his lips around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves that has you clawing onto anything that can hold you as your orgasm takes root in you. Your hands come to Danny’s hair as your hips attempt to buck, but the firm grip he has on your thighs, move to your hips, pinning you down as his tongue fucks you hard and fast into the most intense orgasm of your life.
Danny’s name and a string of other expletives fill the air until you’re hit with a wave of pleasure so hard you can’t make a sound. Your body goes rigid, your grip in Danny’s curls is tight and rough, only making him groan against your core which feels like it's sparking like a live wire. Then something inside of you snaps and you can breathe again, uneven and labored breaths as you try to make sense of the bliss you just felt from this man you’ve only know for a matter of hours could make you feel like this, a million times better than a guy you were dating for two years could have ever dreamed.
His tongue slows to a stop as you come down from your climax, “H-Holy shit.” You huff out, you're in awe and just staring at your ceiling. If that’s what he can do with just his mouth, then you have to know what else he can do. 
You sit up and look at him with a look of insatiable lust. He smirks as he sits up and wipes the shine of wetness from his lips and chin with the back of his hand. “Oh angel, you look like you need more.” He teases as he sits up on his knees, the very prominent outline in his briefs pulls your attention away. “Please.” Is all you’re able to say. “I saw you sizing me up earlier, baby. I know you’re not as innocent as your boy toy thought you were.” Danny grins as he moves closer to you, his hand resting on the thigh of your spread legs. He moves to take his briefs off, you’re practically drooling as he pulls them off. His cock springs up and slaps against his stomach, “Fuck.” You whisper, a thought that wasn’t meant to come out. 
Danny moves closer to you, his fingers coming to your core, you almost jump from the enhanced sensation from between your legs. His fingers dip inside you a moment, you sigh out, your breath making Danny’s curls sway against his face from your proximity. “Show me what a good girl you are.” He whispers before pulling his fingers away and bringing them up to your lips. “Taste how sweet you are.” His voice sends chills across your body. Your eyes don’t leave his as you present your open mouth to him, sucking on his slender fingers. You hum against them, tasting your own arousal from his fingers. You open your mouth again, allowing him to pull away, but he doesn’t. 
His fingers rest on your tongue, “Such a good girl.” Danny whispers, he experimentally pushes his fingers back in your mouth, further back. You don’t dare break eye contact as he slowly runs his fingers in and out of your mouth. “Pretty little slut.” He smirks as you gag around his fingers, your eyes water, but you don’t retreat. “Suck.” He commands. You do as you're told and suck on his middle and index fingers, he sighs at the feeling. You release them with a ‘pop’, Danny smiles as he watches your face when he brings his fingers back down to your pussy, teasing your clit before pressing back inside of you.
You can’t help the moan that rolls out of your throat at the feeling of him filling you up. “Mmm, you are so tight.” Danny rasps, he moves closer to you, prompting you to lay back, his fingers slowly pushing in and out of you. He envelops you into a kiss as he makes work of you. You moan against his lips, grinding down on his fingers, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of him grazing your g-spot. “I know baby, I know.” He teases you as he continues finger fucking you, his pace speeding up a tad. His hardened cock lays against your thigh, you whimper as his fingers move faster. “You need it so bad, huh, baby?” Danny’s voice sends a chill over you, “Mhm.” You can’t even speak it feels so good, playing your body like he’s done it so many times before, so intune with you for absolutely no reason, it makes your head spin. 
“I wanna hear you say it.” He says, your eyes look at him, almost shyly. “Yeah, I wanna hear you say it. Hear that innocent little voice of yours ask for what you want me to do to you.” He smiles devilishly, the sound of your wetness all over his fingers fills the room, making you want him even more. You move to speak, but his fingers curl up inside of you making you moan, “Oh fuck,” You whisper to yourself, trying to get yourself under control. “I-I want you.” You say, Danny just chuckles, “Oh sweet girl, you’re gonna have to ask a lot prettier than that.” He teases, he adds his thumb to the mix, rolling over your clit as he finger fucks you. 
“Mmm, fuck. I-I want you to fuck me.” 
“Not even a please?” 
“P-Please, Danny. Please, I wanna feel it. N-Need to feel it, fuck me.”
Danny thinks for a minute to himself, a smug smirk on his face, “Yeah, that’ll do.” He grins before kissing you, his fingers pulling away as he puts himself between your open legs. You hum against his kiss as you feel his hardened cock resting against your warm core, begging for more. You buck your hips against him, hoping and praying he'd understand how much you need it. He smiles against your lips, "Oh yeah? That bad, huh?" He teases. You open your mouth to protest but whimper as he slowly taps the head of his cock against your needy clit. You look at him with eyes of dismay, shocked how your body reacts with a jump with every touch like this. "Like that, baby?" Danny speaks in a way that makes you practically buzz with excitement. "So much." You whisper. 
Slowly he presses inside of you, both of you moaning at the stretch. It feels like a wave flowing through you, from your scalp down to your toes. All you need in this moment is him. "Fuuuck." Danny's voice waivers as his eyes close, "So fucking wet for me." "Fuck baby, just for you." Your voice breathy and small sounding as you rake your nails down his back, making Danny sigh in your ear. His hand comes down to your thigh, pulling it over his hip, gripping so tight you pray it leaves bruises, wanting some sort of proof that this pleasure wasn't some fleeting dream. 
The angle is so deep and you can't help the way he's making you sound. Your nails gripping into his back and pulling him closer to you. It's all so fuckin perfect, you've never felt this good, so all consumed by desire and a euphoric pleasure that takes you under like the wave of tsunami. His breath cascades over your cheek and you can't help the way you wish you were the only oxygen in his lungs. "Fuck, Danny." You moan out as he speeds up his pace, the head of his cock grazing against your g-spot in a way that has your legs spread even wider for him. "So good angel, so fuckin good." He practically growls as he moves faster. 
A moan rips through you and you're clawing at the sheets beneath you, your hands detach from the linen and take root in Danny's curly hair. He groans at the pull, the way your nails scrape through his scalp. You're so close to the edge, the way he's pounding inside of you and the way the bedframe slams against the wall of your bedroom makes your eyes roll back in ecstasy. 
Your eyes slam open as the presence of a large hand presses against your throat just right. "Look at me baby. Want you to look at me when I make you cum." Danny's voice is so raspy and commanding you can't help but say, "Yes, sir." It must have sparked something in Danny because the way his eyes glint in the golden light of your bedroom leads you to believe you must have stumbled upon something. His pace quickens and his hand on your throat closes tighter, your eyes roll back and a devilish smile pulls at your lips as you completely surrender yourself to Danny. 
The building pressure inside of you has you moaning against Danny's strong hand surrounding your throat, making only a weak and broken whimper come awkwardly tumbling from your mouth. Danny releases his grip on your throat and instead holds your wrists down to the bed as he fucks you. "Let me hear it baby. Come on, angel. Be a good girl and cum for me." He whispers, his own voice shakes as he's barely holding on to his own climax. Your moans are so loud and Danny's name falls so easily from your lips, crying out for more and for him. He watches intently in your eyes, feeling the way your pussy flutters around him, and the way you can barely keep yourself from moaning as you cum hard around him.
Your climax makes Danny practically collapse against you, letting go of your wrists and opting instead to hold you close to him, both of his arms encircling your waist, hands grasping to your back. His nose presses against your neck as he groans, your name like silk on his lips as his hips stutter and slam back inside of you, cumming so deep. 
The two of you lay this way for a moment, both panting and searching for something to say, but you're both practically fucked so stupid you can't form any notable shit to say. Your pussy flutters around him, both of you moan exhausted at the intense shock waves that course through you and to him. Slowly and gently Danny pulls out of you, you whine at the loss of him and the way you can feel his cum leaking out of you so deliciously. "Uh where's your bathroom?" He blushes as if he weren't just choking you and fucking you senseless. "Uh, yeah, uh right down there." You chuckle as you point to the door that leads to your en suite bathroom. He returns with a clean washcloth and helps clean you up, a thing your ex never once cared to do for you. Your heart swells at his tenderness with you. He returns to your bed, motioning you to come closer. 
You waste no time as you rest your head on his chest, looking at the tattoos that intricately swirl in dark ink over his body. His warm hands hold you close, your leg over his, soft fingertips run over his ribs. "That was…" You trail off, blushing as the words evade you. "Yeah, that was everything." Danny smiles, hands gently caressing your back. 
"I've never felt that good before." You confess. "Never?" Danny asks surprised, you shake your head. "I could've guessed, you really weren't lying." Danny smirks. "Can we, um, do this whole thing again sometime?" You ask looking nervously up at his big brown eyes. His eyes light up innocently, "I don't think I could make this a one time thing if I tried." He smiles, his arms subtly hold you tighter. 
"Wanna stay the night?" 
"Baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way."
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