#i cannot believe how late i am to this party | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theoldsports · 10 months

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married.

Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words

alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3

Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.

As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.

[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.

And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.

“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.

[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.

“No problem.”

[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.

After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”

“Dry cleaner’s.”

Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.

[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.

“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”

“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.

The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”

“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”

“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?

[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.

She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.

Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.

After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.

The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.

Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.

“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.

Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.

[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”

“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.

[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.

“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”

[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.

It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”

Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.

“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.

“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.

“Yes.”

“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.

“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”

“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.

“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”

Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.

They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”

“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”

“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.

When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”

—

The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.

“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”

“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”

“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”

“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.

Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”

“If I must.” [Y/N] said.

With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.

Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.

After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.

Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.

[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.

“Junkie is such a strong word…”

“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.

“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.

Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.

Fuck.

Her parents.

[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.

“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.

Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”

“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.

[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.

“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“

[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.

Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.

“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.

“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.

“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.

“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.

“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”

[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”

“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”

“Absolutely and unendingly.”

“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”

“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.

“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.

“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.

“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.

A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.

“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.

Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.

“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.

The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”

“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”

Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.

“And?”

“No reason, just making conversation.”

Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.

“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”

This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”

“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjob.”

“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.

“What?”

In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.

“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.

“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”

“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“

“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”

“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”

“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”

[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.

“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.

“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”

He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.

“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.

[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.

[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.

“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.

More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”

[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.

Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.

“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“How many men have had you behind my back?”

It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.

[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.

That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.

“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“

Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.

Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.

“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“

“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.

Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.

Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.

Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.

[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”

“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.

[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.

Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.

“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”

“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”

“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

PART II HERE

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt

sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #hunger games #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow

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me-writes-prompts · 1 year

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-:“I’m regretting marrying you right now…” Married couple bickering prompts:-

(This is gold. I love it. ALSO ALSO TAG MEEEEE)

By @me-writes-prompts

"That was a lie back there, you do not win every time we play uno! I do!" "Oh yeah, what about the time you got drunk and messed up your cards thinking they were mine? Tch."

Fighting over who gets to use the shower first, instead of just showering together(dumbasses)

"No, I'm cooking today. The last time you tried making chicken, you burned the whole house down." "Okay, that is way too dramatic. I only set the fire alarm on for an hour or so, I did not burn down the whole house!" "It's the same thing." "I swear-"

Bickering over who gets to choose the movie for friday movie nights

Getting extremely irritated when they keep making them try on different outfits for their anniversary

^^"Look, this is the last one I'm trying. And, it's pretty good. See?" "Hmmm...it is quite good, but I want something more good looking on you." *groans loudly* "I am going to murder you if you don't choose the next outfit."

*over the phone* "Okay, see you. Don't be late, love you." "What do you mean by 'don't be late', I am never late. You're the one, in fact, who always has to get ready at the last minute." "Oh yeah? What about when we went to [name]'s birthday party? We were 10 minutes late! 10 minutes! They had already cut the ca-" *the other one hangs up*(lmaoooo)

*while teaching them how to sew* "Be careful not to hurt yourself, the needle's sharp." "I know, gosh, stop being such a mom." "I-"

Arguing over their chore list(buying the groceries, cleaning the bathroom/bedroom, taking out trash, etc)

^^"Huh? You forgot to take the trash out because you were too busy playing your video game? I cannot believe you." "I...well, why didn't you do it? I mean, you were free anyways." "Nah-uh, it's on your chore list, I'm not going to do your duties."

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heavyhitterheaux · 7 months

Text

Got Me Thinking

Part 2: Late Nights and Spousal Confessions

Synopsis: Not wanting the night to end, Jack quickly asks to spend more time with you. Little did the two of you know that it would end up being a therapy session about your marriages to other people.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Read Part 1 First

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack continued to look at you in disbelief before the biggest smile broke out on his face as he quickly embraced you.

Your arms immediately went around his neck as you felt him pick you up so your feet were hovering above the ground as he hugged you tighter.

“Are you really here right now?” He asked as he whispered in your ear and you simply nodded before responding to him.

“I am and you can thank your little brother for that.”

“And to answer your question, yes. I did miss you, more than you know.”

“Well if I would have known that you two would be this excited to see each other, I would have done it sooner.” Clay mumbled and the two of you couldn't help but laugh. Jack placed you back on your feet before his left hand went to cup your face as his right started to play with the ends of your hair. Something that he used to do when the two of you were younger so it was obvious that old habits die hard.

“And that's who he let get away? Look at how they're looking at each other! Jack hasn't acknowledged anyone else since he's seen her. He doesn't even look at his own wife like that.” Ace said to Clay who simply nodded in agreement.

“That's who he should have been with and stayed with from the beginning.”

“Agreed.”

The party consisted of Jack and Urban making their rounds and mingling with all of their guests, but one thing that didn't happen was you leaving Jack's side. You had been basically glued to him for the entire night and you could tell that your presence was giving him a sense of comfort. Just like before when the two of you were together.

When it got close to about 2 in the morning, people were starting to wind down and leave and since Clay brought you, he quickly asked when you would be ready to leave, but Jack jumped in before you could say anything.

“I'll take her home, don't worry about it. We have a lot to catch up on.” He said while turning to you and smiling.

“I figured, but I thought I would ask anyway.” Clay said while smiling at the sight in front of him. He didn't even know the last time that he saw his older brother so happy and he was hoping that it would stay that way and the two of you would end up together like everyone wanted.

No one had really mentioned or brought up the fact that Jack's wife, better known as Kelsey, hadn't even shown up to her own husband's birthday party but it was clear that Jack did not care one bit. His attention and focus had been on you the entire time and you were low key happy that you didn't have to compete for it with someone else.

The two of you were now settled into Jack’s Jeep and he simply looked over at you and smiled.

“I literally just cannot believe you’re here right now.”

“I actually wasn’t going to come, but Clay convinced me.” You said being completely honest as he began to drive.

“What? Why?”

“I didn’t think that you would have wanted to see me.”

“What the? It’s not like we ended on a bad note. Besides, I literally always ask your mom about you anytime that I see her. That just happens to be a lot since you know our moms have been inseparable since we began dating and haven’t let up since.”

“Very true. Any time I talk to her and ask her what she’s doing she says she’s with Maggie.”

“I don’t want to take you home just yet, if that’s okay.” Jack said, looking straight ahead as he was coming to a red light.

“Hmm, we can go to Waffle House, they’re still open.”

Once the two of you reached Waffle House and got settled into a booth in the back, you knew that Jack was bound to ask you about being married and you were just waiting for it. You both scanned the menu in a comfortable silence before he spoke up.

“So……”

“So…..” You said back to him as both of you let out laughs.

“Tell me everything. What’s been going on with you?”

“Well, I did end up going to nursing school and did that for a little while before I decided to go back and get my CRNA.”

“Damn, I knew my girl was smart. I remember you telling me that you wanted to do that. That’s anesthesia right?” Your heart instantly fluttered when you heard him call you his girl.

“It is, I didn’t think that you would remember.”

“I remember everything about my first love. Including how she didn’t think my full name was Jackman and decided to call me Jackson instead and it stuck.”

You immediately busted out laughing remembering the conversation that the two of you had with you both going back and forth debating on what Jack’s real name was. And you legit asked Maggie to see his birth certificate which she laughed about.

“And to this day, you are the only person allowed to do that.”

“But I love Jackman better. It makes you unique.” You replied as you looked back down at the menu and was deciding on what you wanted to drink.

“What else has happened? You live in Cali now, right?”

“Yeah, I live in Calabasas and have been there for about six years. I like it…. At times.”

Just then the two of you were interrupted by your waiter who you looked up to see was Ms.Isabella. She was the manager and worked here for as long as you two could remember.

“Well isn’t it my favorite nurse and my favorite rapper?!”

“Ms. Isabella, respectfully, don’t you only know like five of my songs? How am I your favorite rapper?” Jack asked joking with her, but all she did was laugh and roll her eyes at him.

“I’ve been to enough concerts to know more than five songs. Anyway, you two aren’t married yet?” She asked and both of you looked like deer caught in headlights, but you quickly recovered.

“Ms. Isabella we’re both married, but not to each other.” You asked and all she did was try to hide the obvious smirk that was about to be displayed on her face. She had definitely been talking to your mother and knew what she was doing.

“Oh, what a shame. Anyway, all I know is that I remember the two of you always being in here when you were younger and being inseparable. Especially when both of you would be drunk and trying to sober up before you went home. A secret that I shall keep from both of your mother’s forever. Anyway, what are we drinking? Orange juice?”

“That’s fine.” Jack quickly said as she nodded her head to walk towards the counter.

When she walked away, it was slightly awkward and you knew for a fact that he was about to ask you now.

“So, how long have you been married?” He asked while looking down and drumming his fingers on the table.

“This year will be three years.” You quietly answered and Jack nodded his head. One of the first things he noticed was your wedding ring when he had first laid eyes on you and seeing it in person made his heart drop. He knew that you were, but was wishing deep down that it wasn’t true.

“What’s his name?”

“Xavier.”

“Does… he treat you well?”

You hesitated on answering that simply because you knew the type of person that Jack was. Even though he wasn’t one to care for confrontation, when it came to you he didn’t care. He would probably have no problem hoping on a plane and going to Cali in order to beat his ass for what he had done to you.

“That’s…. A loaded question. Umm…”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to pry and you only have to tell me what you feel comfortable with me knowing. But the look on your face is telling when I asked about him.”

“It’s just complicated.”

“Marriage can be difficult sometimes, but it shouldn’t be complicated if the two people involved work together.”

“I… I married a wonderful person who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, but about ten months ago his true colors started to show and I don’t think that I can stomach being married to a person like that much longer.”

“Did he put his hands on you? Because….” Jack asked with his voice slightly raising and you immediately shook your head no and placed your hand on top of his in order to get him to calm down.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise. It’s nowhere near that.”

“Then, what is it?”

“He’s been cheating on me for a year and got another woman pregnant.”

Jack’s mouth was now hanging wide open as he looked at you dumbfounded.

“And does he know that you know this?”

You just shook your head no and sighed.

“I… you know that you deserve better than that.”

“I know, I’m just trying to stack my money to be able to get a divorce and get away from him. I already opened up a bank account that he has no idea about.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Jack quietly said as he saw your eyes watering. Bottom line was you still loved Xavier despite what he had done to you and you absolutely hated yourself for it.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, just a little while longer. Now onto you, tell me all that there is to know about Kelsey. I thought I was going to meet her tonight. How’s married life treating you?” Even though you had heard from multiple people about how Jack was miserable in his marriage, you needed to hear it come straight from him.

“Hmm, not a lot to tell.”

“What in the world is that supposed to mean?”

When Jack was once again quiet, you could still read him like an open book despite how many years had passed.

“You regret it.” You quietly said and he just looked at you.

“How can you know exactly what I’m thinking without me having to say anything and you’re in tune with my feelings when my wife can’t even do that?”

“I can read you like a book, Jackman. I’ve always been able to. You can be completely silent like just now and I…. why do you regret it?”

“I’ve recently found out some things about her that I didn’t know before and it makes me think that I truly don’t know her at all and I rushed into this.”

Ms. Isabella interrupted the two of you as she sat both of your drinks down and was waiting for the two of you to order.

“I'll take the all star breakfast.”

“Me too.” You quietly said as you handed her your menu and she simply shot both of you a smile before walking away.

“So, Clay telling me that you were miserable in your marriage wasn't a lie?”

“I… I know he's just trying to look out for me but it's not a lie. I definitely care about her to a certain extent and don't want anything bad to happen to her but….”

“Then do what you have to do in order for you to have a peace of mind.”

“I want to give it time seeing as it hasn't even been a year yet and the fact that the amount of people that would be telling me ‘I told you so’ would be endless.”

“Don't worry about them. As long as you're happy, that's the important part.”

“True.”

“Besides, I’m here for you and will support you with whatever you decide.”

“I appreciate that. Now that I got you back I'm definitely not letting you go again.”

It was around seven in the morning when the two of you finally pulled in front of your parent's house and you weren't afraid to admit that you were sad that the night was coming to an end.

When the two of you had left Waffle House, you both decided to watch the sunrise for old times sake since that was something that the two of you would do often when you two were together.

You were excited that he was now back in your life and was hoping that it would be for the long haul.

“I hope you had an amazing birthday.” You said as the two of you were now standing outside of his Jeep.

“I did because I got the best birthday gift that I could have ever asked for, like Clay said. I appreciate you for coming and I'm happy that I got to see you. It's been way too long.”

“It has.”

“How long are you staying?”

“About another week.”

Jack simply nodded as he grabbed your hand and started rubbing small circles on the back of it.

“Block out some time for me?”

“For you? Always. You never have to ask.” You answered as you smiled up at him which he quickly returned before bringing you into a hug.

“I missed you so much and that is probably all you're going to hear me say over the next week.”

“I don't mind because I missed you too.” You responded as the two of you finally pulled away.

“Go and get some sleep and I’ll call you later.” Jack said as he reached down to kiss your forehead and then your cheek which was dangerously close to your mouth, but you brushed it off and thought nothing of it.

“Okay.”

“Since we now have an audience.”

You looked behind you to see your brother looking out of the window on the second floor as your sister and your parents were looking out of the window that was in the living room and you immediately groaned as Jack laughed. Your mom looked to be on the phone and you knew for a fact that she was talking to Maggie and giving her a play by play.

“I'm probably hitting the studio later. You want to come?”

“Hmm, I think I can clear my schedule for you.”

“Then it's a date.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow concept

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umadosedepascal · 7 months

Text

W I N N E R | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | PART VIII

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: You couldn’t attend SAG awards but Pedro meets you late in the night to celebrate.

wc: 2.9k

rating/warnings: [a little drunk] [one spit][take a shower together][ride on thigh][Pedro begging in Spanish][little fluffy][Smut][unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f]

a/n: This was kind of a request. Enjoy whoever asked us for it! And sorry if there’s any mistakes on our English.Pedro was freaking HOT that night MY GOSH!Consider commenting and reblogging if you like it!

Its been a busy beginning of the year, Pedro has a lot of work going on and you as well.

You can barely see each other but when there's an opportunity to meet you just jump on it by him invinting you or just to be there at the same event.

When he won the People's Choice Award you just had to call him congratulating for the winning, and while you were talking he told you he was going to fly back to LA for SAG awards and really wanted to see you before come back to Canada.

That news made your day, and you had a good feeling that he was going for good.

Unfortunatelly you couldnt attend the award not even the after party for other reasons but you kept texting insanely each other during the event.

Pedro P: Hey honey, I'm already here. drinking some Casamigos with awesome people, wish you were here...

You: It's ok babe, have fun tonite! I bet you going to win and we can celebrate later..

Pedro P: Not sure, my dear. Kieran is taking them all 🥲 can't wait to see you later tonite.

You are laying on your couch with pajamas watching the award and his category comes up with an surprisingly announcement. Pedro wins, you start screaming on your apartment like your team scored on final championship.

DAMN, you are so proud of him and turn up the volume just to hear his speech loud and clear. Well, wasn't one of the best ones but you swirl your glass of wine bitting your bottom lip while he is saying he is a bit drunk and tear up with him as he mention how important this is for himself.

You realize is time to get ready to meet him, you let the TV on while going to take a shower and hear he's back live with Tan on backstage interview. It looked like more shenanigans than possible. The moment you hear him saying he would make out with Kieran and this is his revenge you automatically raise your phone for a sassiest nude pic and send him..

You: So, you want to make out with me or him? 🤣

You know he is buzzed and feeling the moment and know his not going to reply so soon but still piss and laughing at the same time.

After a couple hours you get a message

Pedro P: Mine or yours?

You: Inside me

Pedro P: This is what I wanted to. I will be there in 20.

You: Come to me Don Juan

Pedro P: haha 🤣

It's 1:30 am and you debating with your sleep just to keep yourself awake and see that Chilean Don Juan appear in front of your door. To keep it up you still drinking and looking at the app because he always share his location with you. Not to bother, you just wait with patience and see its moving faster. Means that he is coming towards your place. Your heart starts to accelerate and definitely you cannot wait to see him holding that heavy award on his hands..

You live in a quiet neighbour in West Hollywood, nothing happens like the crazyness on the other side. You sit in front of your door wearing a comfy robe when his car approaches the street.

"MAMA I WON!" He screams while getting off the car

You are like "SSSSH Pedro! It's 2 in the morning..😂"

Pedro holds you leading you back to your house and closing the door behind him.

"I'm so proud of you, even you saying those things on live TV, you were so funny, light and emotional. Can you believe I cried when you got on that stage saying anything but everything?"

"Yeah I, I, I was drunk babe..haha"

He leaves his award carefully by the door on the floor and when he comes back up to you his hands are already on your thighs sliding up giving you shivers and taking off your robe for good. Pedro holds the back of your neck while licking on it tracing a pat to your right ear saying "I win twice tonite huh..”

He grabs your hand and make you feel his hardon throught his pants, you let out a soft moan and rub your hands harshly on him, your mouths meet each other in a sloppy wet kiss. You can feel the taste of tequila and his tongue is tender and he is gentle on you.

You keep on your toes and whisper in his ear "are you sure this is all for me? Isn't it for Kieran or the other thousand people you wee flirting P?"

Pedro looks at you, those brown eyes getting darker, he raises an eyebrow and moves away from you, your heart beating faster when you see that man going to the middle of your living room.

Pedro stops and looks at you,

"Do you really think my cock is hard like that because of anyone other than you and this tight pussy?"

Each word Pedro was saying, he was opening a button on his shirt, so slowly that you felt your legs soften with every inch of skin that was emerging in front of you.

"Eyes on my dear, tell me, do you know how hard I got when I saw that pic you’ve sent me? How did I have to disguise it by holding my award?"

The last button is undone and Pedro takes his clothes off quickly now just on his undies. He sits in the sofa, legs open, he pops out a cigarette, you face him petrified, the way Pedro takes your living room, how this room seems ten times smaller and warmer with him there.

Pedro lights up the cigarette and drags it slowly, his head falling on the back of the sofa.

"Come here mama" he pats his left thigh twice. The view of him with the cigarette hanging on his lips, shirtless, the slightly reddish skin, the curls on his forehead, and those eyes that look like a burning brown sea drives you crazy.

You sigh, approach and ride on his left thigh.

You take the cigarette out of his mouth, take a drag and land on the ashtray.

While making sudden movements on his thigh you hold his jaw squeezing his cheeks and say "so, it means we have a winner here..." putting two fingers in his mouth, he sucks them and say softly.. "go down, I want to see how wet you are for me" you obey with a peck on his lips.

Sliding down your left hand through his hot chest giving a quick pass through the bulge over his boxers. the feeling is very hot and pleasurable..moving the fabric away from your panties you dip one finger only and move back into his mouth.

He opens his mouth slowly giving permission for you to pass on his lips and that was enough for him to hold the edges of your panties and strip down making you get up quickly and get rid of it.

Sitting back again on his thigh and making more abrupt movements and wetting him completely, a feeling of drowning, a smell of sex and expensive perfume with the taste of tequila coming from that mouth.

Pedro guides your hand to his cock and asks with some difficulty to caress him the way he likes it.

You drag your nails through the contour of his cock, the wet fabric of pre cum shows how Pedro is looking forward to you. You stroke his thighs, going up and down slowly, feeling how his skin chills, how his stomach contracts when your fingers get close to his cock.

You take back the cigarette and drag looking at him, your head falling to the side, watching how he seems lost and anxious.

“You look so beautiful kneeling to me," Pedro says taking the cigarette off your fingers.

Biting your lip you hold the sides of his undies, Pedro raises his hips helping you, the fabric going down his legs, you throw it to the floor.

Pedro holds his throbbing cock with his right hand, uncut, thick and veiny with a swolen red head looking like a huge strawberry, he makes movements up and down.

"Déjame sentir esa boca mama. Please" he says with half close eyes and husky voice.

You approach and hold his cock over his hand, squeezing and feeling how he pulsates. You lick the wet tip of pre cum, looking into his eyes you slowly suck only the tip, Pedro takes his hand off the cock and holds the armchair stroking it, cursing softly while you lick and teases him with your tongue.

"You're so hot, I've been wishing to suck you all night" before Pedro can answer you put his cock in your mouth, feeling the tip hit your throat, you feel him pulsating on your tongue, the bittersweet taste of the pre cum invading your throat. Pedro runs his hand in your hair, moving in circles encouraging you to swallow more, you choke but don't take him out of your mouth.

"Shit! I love it when you do that. Don't stop!"

You look into his eyes, Pedro wiping the tear that accumulates in the corner of your eyes. You take him out of your mouth just to jack him off while sucking his balls, Pedro throws his head back and moans loudly, no caring if anyone will hear him.

"Gosh! You're going to kill me"

You go up with your tongue licking his length, until you reach the tip you swallow it again feeling Pedro grabbing your hair tightly, guiding how he wants to fuck your mouth.

"Por favor…”

You feel that Pedro is about to cum in your mouth, with a pop you let it go and ask looking up at him "will there be a second round, babe?"

With his eyes closed and his mouth half open he nods a yes and you grab him again passing his tongue with more intensity on the frenum. He lets out a dense moan slightly squeezing the sides of your temple and arches his hip releasing jets of hot cum in your mouth. Pedro's moans get louder as you swallow his hot juice by sliding your nails on his thighs making him having goosebumps.

You get up and sit again on him facing front, caressing his graysh beard and kissing his neck and corner of mouth. He mouths a lazy smile biting his lower lip and says "I want more, I don't want it to end like this today without me satisfying you..."

Pedro looks at you from the corner of his eye, pointing to your bedroom.

“..taste you Ma’am..."

Lifting you up on his lap, you interlace your legs on his hip and he goes towards your bed throwing you into it and opening your legs with his knees.

He starts kissing your knees looking up at you, going down to your thighs alternating between each one licking and giving light nibbles, sometimes some bites that will leave you marks making you complain with pleasure "stop, Pedro"

"Stop?"

"No, no, keep going.." giggling.

This time Pedro went straight to the pot licking the sides of your folders, holding your hips pulling you to him so you can reach his curly hair, already messy and sweaty.

He fucks you with his tongue, grunting while smearing himself from you, you feel your pussy pinching with his beard constantly scrubbing against your skin. he alternates between licking, and sucking on your clit leaving on the edge.

"Cum to me babe, you're so delicious... I missed you"

You feel your pussy contract, squeezing, your stomach on fire, a hot numbness taking over your body. Pedro moans against your pussy while sucking on it, begging you to cum for him.

"Cum in my mouth cum in my whole face, babe"

Pedro spits onto your pussy, a long line of saliva while his eyes do not detach from yours. He fucks you with his tongue, his pretty aquiline nose poking your sensitive clit.

"Pedro! Sn't it!" You shout his name, cumming on his tongue, his hands squeezing you, snakeing your body, leaving scratches.

"Every day more delicious" Pedro crawls on top of you, finding your lips he kisses you, you feel his hard cock again against your thigh.

Pedro moves away kneeling on the edge of the bed, you don't even have time to assimilate before you feel him pull you by the ankles, causing your legs to curl around his waist.

Pedro holds his cock hard cock with his right hand and rubs the tip against your swollen clit, you moan when he slide the tip in your pussy.

"So fucking tight..ah”

He takes off and stimulate you again, and so he does one, two, three times teasing you.

"Please papi, fuck me…"

Pedro growls looking at you, he holds his cock by the base and push into you. You two moaning together, that little pain mixed with pleasure taking over your body, Pedro seems like a sex God, a fallen angel looking at your pussy while

fucking you deep, his lips half-open, the side vein of his neck pulsating, drops of sweat accumulating on his forehead...

Pedro grabs your waist, sitting on the bed and rolling you on top of him. He holds your ass making you rub on it, the feeling of his cock so deep in your pussy.

You lean on him, sinking your mouth into his sweaty neck while he already without forces slaps you in the cheeks holding firmly making you move up and down. with a low grun he lifts you slightly and fucks you even harder. the sound of skin to skin and his moans mix while he pumps you in order to reach his climax but you give in first leaving his cock wetter and slippery, making it escape more than once from inside you but he quickly guides his hard cock again inside until he grabs you tight on your waist and cums hot inside you saying cursed things. You quickly shut him up kissing him roughly.

The kiss turns sloppy, and decreases as your lungs fight for air.

Pedro kisses your jaw, his tongue passing through your neck, leaving a bite on your right shoulder. He lies on the bed, still with his dick inside you, he smiles as if he were high. You watch him, his eyes closed, the satisfied smile on his lips, the curls of his hair now completely wet with sweat.

You bend over and kiss his collarbone, raising your tongue to his neck, feeling the salty of his skin. Unique.

"Are you trying a third round?" He says opening only one eye and looking at you. You laugh coming out of him, immediately missing the feeling of his cock inside you.

"Come, take a shower with me"

The bath is relaxing, the warm water falling on you, Pedro kisses you while you pass the soap through his body, it is sensual and calm.

You tell him to turn around, passing the soap behind his back, leaving a kiss on the back of his newly operated shoulder, he laughs and turns to you, kissing your lips calmly, taking advantage of every inch of your mouth. It's so relaxing that you feel your muscles give way every time he hugs you next to his body.

While you talk and get dry, Pedro tells you about how he doesn't remember anything of the speech, that he was so nervous and happy that he just said what came to his mind, and blames himself for not having thanked more people.

"You made a beautiful speech, Pedro, I’m serious"

He smiles and holds your hand.

"Can I ask for something? Can you wear my shirt? From the minute Julie gave it to me, I imagined how beautiful you would look wearing it. Hah”

You smile at his request, nodding your head giving a quick kiss on his lips, you send him to bed and run to the living room. You just see chaos, clothes thrown on the floor, ashtray, glass of drink and TV on. You find the shirt on the couch, you put it on not wearing anything underneath, leaving the same amount of buttons open that he left during that night.

The moment you head to the room, he brought the trophy to the bedside table and catches your attention, you take it, looking at his name engraved, smiling, happy for him.

"Papi I’m a winner!" You mimic him when he told you in the early evening, raising the heavy trophy.

You walk slowly to the side of the bed, leaving the trophy on the bedside table. Pedro climbs his right hand down the back of your thigh, gently squeezing your ass, looking at you while his left hand plays with one of the buttons on the shirt.

"Jesus, you look so sexy! Much better than I imagined. Come here" Pedro whispers looking at you.

You know exactly what that look means. The night will really have no end.

———————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x f!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedrohub #joel miller #dieter bravo #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel

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kissitbttr · 5 months

Note

OOOH! I really wanna know what happened to frat!miguel when meeting reader’s parents? It must’ve been skeptical but wholesome in a way 😞

‘miguel, you’re sweating like crazy’ you point out with a raised eyebrow, watching how a few strands of his hair clinging onto his forehead,

he wide eyes, hand coming up to wipe the sweats off his skin ‘am i? shit, fuck. now i have to change into a new shirt’

rolling your eyes, you shake your head at him, ‘yeah no, you already changed into four different shirts, miggy. and we’re going to be late! what is with you anyway? they’re just my parents, no need to get nervous’

he fans his face with both of his hands as he takes one last look in the mirror. ‘you mean my soon to be in-laws?’ he asks and for a second there you think he’s joking but he’s actually serious,

you ignore the flutter in your chest and decide to smile instead, ‘you’ll be fine, baby’ a kiss planted on his cheek. ‘no need to worry, they’re going to love you’

and they do. took a while for your father warming up to him unlike your mom who already adores the hell out of him. but they sure hit it off rather quickly after that.

‘you’ve ever been in jail?’ your dad asks in a serious tone, glaring at miguel,

your boyfriend gulps. ‘no sir’

‘done drugs?’

‘no sir’

‘engaged to any sexual intercourse party?’

‘daddy!’ ‘sweetheart!’ both you and your mother exclaims at the same time with a gasp

and miguel is sweating like crazy, ‘never in a million years sir’

your dad hums. ‘my daughter is the most precious thing i have ever had. my greatest blessing. you hurt her, i’ll make sure no one will ever see you alive again, understood?’

‘i have no intentions on hurting your daughter, sir. i plan on being with her for the rest of my life’ miguel reassures with confidence, making your mother awe at the sight and for your heart to bloom,

for a while, your dad only stare at him before giving another firm nod. ‘good. so—‘ a hand suddenly clasps around miguel’s shoulder causing him to jump a little. ‘football huh? who are you rooting for?’

‘…giants, sir’ miguel responds in a quiet voice hoping that it’s the right answer,

he sees the skeptical look on your dad’s face, thinking that he might have lost his shot at winning your parents.

but then a smile breaks over your dad’s face, chuckling lightly,

‘atta boy’

—

‘i cannot believe that your dad is inviting me to go play ball! holy fucking shit! this is the best day ever!’ miguel whispers yell while the two of you sit in the living room as your parents are preparing dinner,

a chuckle escape your mouth, watching how cute your pretty boy gets when he’s all excited and blushy. it’s like that one time when you took him to see animatronics dinosaurs in florida and watched his inner child appeared.

a kiss planted onto his cheek, seeing his smile only grows more. ‘see? didn’t i tell you that it was going to be okay?’

he grins so hard that his cheeks are hurting, feeling extremely happy about how tonight is going that he knows for sure nothing could ever ruin this

#frat!miguel

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wonwooslibrary · 9 months

Text

svt as boyfriends ♡ joshua edition

member: joshua x reader genre: established relationship, bullet points word count: 738 summary: joshua's boyfriend things ;) warnings: mentions of food and i think that's it! let me know if i missed anything! author's note: y'all i am almost two whole days late with this oh god it keeps getting worse. i am...very tired haha i've been working a lot to build up some money while i'm not in school so yeah. i lowkey forgot about joshua/taehyung day until i opened twitter and saw people talking abt shua and i was like WAIT THAT IS TODAY anyway moral of the story i'm tired and need a break but here is the joshua fic we've all been waiting for! ily all and enjoy <3

He lowkey gives the vibes of like. The foreign exchange student bf with a relationship with a deadline

He’s the silly bf!!!

He’s also one of the members I see the least as a boyfriend so this is going to be interesting to write…

Quality Time

Mans is a fan of everything fr !!! He absolutely loves spending time with you and your shared group of friends

Loves doing silly little activities with you like making bracelets and painting

He might just be the artsy bf we all want

Joshua loves to go to different places with you like thrift stores, arcades, cafes, literally anything as long as he is with you <3

Loves the feeling of mixing his friend groups - the day you meet his friends aka his brothers he will be imploding with love for everyone

Is the “i get bored easily” bf so y’all gotta be doing like ten different things at once

Will totally ask you to dance or just close your eyes and be with him when a slow song comes on at a party / get together / playing music at home

Words of Affirmation

You totally call him Joshy or Shua and he loves every minute of it bc he thinks it’s cute

“Darling, would you like to get coffee with me tomorrow morning?” SCREECHING

Believes the relationship revolves around pet names (ie. baby, sweetie, darling) he's adorable

Is always proud of you and encouraging!!!

Likes to leave little notes for you around the house. Maybe by your favorite drink in the fridge that reads, “I got these for you. stay hydrated, love”

At the beginning of the relationship he was so formal with you, that it took him saying “I love you” for the first time to relax for five seconds LOL

Physical Touch

Joshua loves handholding ‼️

This man always wants to have some sort of contact with you, whether that be holding hands, linking fingers or rubbing your back

Loves having you sit on his lap or lay your legs across his

His go-to move when you are in public is linking your pinkies together (how cute :3)

Leans on you when he laughs because he cannot sit still

I feel like Joshua would like. move his fingers on your leg in the way of playing piano keys but with guitar if that makes sense? Like where the frets are? Idk

Is also the type to be scared of touching you in front of others until you explicitly tell him that it's okay

Acts of Service

Loves doing the chores for you

“Hey, baby, I'm gonna fill my water bottle. Do you need me to fill yours?”

Or even a, “hey i borrowed your car, but i filled the tank before bringing it back” we love a man who can afford to fill a vehicle’s tank at this point in time

Likes to bring you lunch once or twice a week --- he’ll make it himself and pack it in a cute little bag and everything

Helps you in little ways like folding the laundry or helping you pick out outfits on those days that you struggle to do anything

Is always there for you when literally anything happens. You need someone to help fix your car? He’s on the phone finding a shop. You can’t reach a high shelf or your back hurts too much to bend down to get something from a low cupboard? He’s right there ready to help

Gift Giving

I touched on this a tiny bit earlier but !! handmade jewelry omg he would make matching bracelets for y’all or even a necklace or earrings for you if bracelets interfere with your job

Always buys little trinkets that remind him of you or your relationship

“Hey I found this little glass rose decoration and it reminded me of the time i got you flowers when i asked you out the first time”

HE WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE CUTE SHY SMILE WHEN HE GIVES YOU SOMETHING TOO as if you’ll ever tell him that you dislike something he got for you

He would also love if you gave him gifts too like, “hey joshy I got this little container that can help you keep your beads organized” and he’s melt into a puddle of goo onto your living room floor

Also gets something for you (usually your favorite snack or drink) when you’re especially sad or stressed out - like a super gift instead of his regular daily gifts or something

Idk just know he’s really sweet and enjoys crafting

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ashwhowrites · 2 years

Text

Bratty Eddie's ex

Half of it is proofread. I'll do it later

Angst to smut to fluff

"Okay so remember we need to leave once I say because I have that important meeting tomorrow morning then we have to meet the realtor for the house, you cannot be late, got it?"

"Okay" Eddie said smiling, watching as she zipped up his jacket and pecked his lips

"alright let's go"

The couple raced out of their small trailer and out to their car. Heading to the party they were invited to.

It didn't take long for Eddie to get tipsy, dancing in the middle of the living room. Not quite sure where his girlfriend was at the moment.

"Eddie Munson?" Eddie's ears perked up when he heard his name, turning around. Eyes bulging out of his head as he saw his ex from years ago

"holy shit! Jess" He laughed, throwing his arms around her and she hugged him. Jess was his ex from before he met Y/N. The last woman he was ever his old self with. Back when he was dominant, controlling and mean.

"wow! I can't believe I ran into you. How have you been?" She asked over the music

"so good! I have a girlfriend and we are looking at a house tomorrow together! How are you?" He explained happily. He was excited about his future with Y/N. Living in a new home together, making a house their own.

"that's amazing. Good for you. I'm doing well" she smiled, a hand landing on his arm as she congratulated him.

"Eddie hey! Are you ready to go?" Y/N came out of nowhere. Eyes glaring at the girls hand on Eddie's arm.

"I'm actually catching up with an old friend right now. Can we stay a tad bit longer?" He asked, puppy eyes asking her softly

"actually ex-girlfriend" Jess said with a smirk, she didn't enjoy the way Eddie's new girlfriend was drop dead gorgeous.

"oh ex girlfriend? That's....great. I wish we could but it's already late. Maybe another time" Y/N said sharply. Throwing Eddie a look, it was time to leave now. But his eyes looked so soft and pleading.

"five minutes" she snapped, walking off to the car.

"Is she always controlling like that? The Eddie I knew didn't ever take demands from a girl. That would totally take a jab at his manhood" Jess laughed. Eddie felt himself growing uncomfortable. He knew his girlfriend was pissed but he also felt like Jess was right. He was a man and he was in charge of himself. Y/N did tend to control him a lot, but he knew she only did because he liked it. But did a part of him miss being the one in charge? Being the one who told how it was and forced women to comply with his demands?

"I'll be right back" he said to Jess. Downing the rest of his drink as he walked out to the car. The alcohol in his system was definitely a factor for the dumbest decision he was about to make

"are you ready?" She asked, unlocking the car

"I want to stay" he said. Standing his ground

"Eddie, we can't. It's already midnight and I have to be up at 7 for my meeting and you need to be ready by 8:30" she explained. She already had this conversation with him before they even left.

"I don't care. I want to stay. I don't need your permission. I can take care of myself and make my own decisions. I am capable of doing shit without you. I'm letting you know that I'm staying" he said as strongly as he could. Crossing his arms as he looked down at her

"Knock it off. Get in the car Eddie" she snapped. She was slowly losing her temper. She didn't have time for his attitude.

"Y/N, I said I am staying. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Jess can bring me home" he growled back. His eyes squinting at her

For once in their relationship Eddie saw something in her change. Watching as her body deflated and her eyes cracking. Was she....was she upset? Her anger faded, he could see her eyes getting wet. Was she going to cry? Fuck, she doesn't cry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"consider me told, have fun then Edward" she said, voice cracking as she got in the car, not looking back as she drove home

Edward? She never calls him Edward. He felt his throat close up. He made her upset. He's never once made her upset. Mad? Definitely. Annoyed? All the time. But actually upset and hurting her feelings? He's never done that.

"don't fucking cry" she whispered to herself. Slamming the car door as she walked into the trailer.

He's never once called her by her first name since they first started dating. But hearing him call her by her first name while his ex-girlfriend sat in the party waiting for him to come back hurt her way more than she would have liked to admit. A fling from the past shows up and suddenly she's just Y/N? She usually never gets upset about these things. She knew Eddie loved her and the trust they had was unbreakable. She didn't care that he wanted to stay, it was the fact he demanded it all because Jess was there. Her Eddie loved being submissive and not making his own decisions. He liked to be taken care of, he didn't have it as a child and she was trying to pick up the pieces. He was dominant before her, she knew that. She had a feeling Jess reminded him back to when he was in charge of everything. Did he miss it? Did he actually not enjoy having her as his mommy anymore? Was she actually controlling and demanding? She just tried to look out for him but maybe she's doing it in the wrong way?

A new feeling of insecurity was filling her as she changed into her pajamas. She pulled away the blankets, getting her side ready as she moved to Eddie's side. Preparing to prep his side for bed but stopped. He wanted to take care of himself? Fine. She fixed his side neatly, crawling to her side and cuddling under the covers. Making sure her back was to his side. She didn't want the reminder that he wasn't home.

Eddie was definitely even more drunk when Jess dropped him off. Hanging his head as he saw the trailer coming up

"I think I made her sad" he admitted, a pout on his lips as he unbuckled his seatbelt

"who cares? You are Eddie Munson. You loved making girls cry remember?" She laughed

"that's not me anymore. She....she changed me for the better. I love her and I hurt her feelings" he was disappointed in himself.

"look Eddie, you are a grown up. You don't need mommy to tell you when to go to bed and have a curfew" she mocked. But Eddie hated the way it made him feel. She wasn't "mommy" because she controlled everything. She was "mommy" because she loved him unconditionally. She loved him through his abuse, trauma, temper tantrums, and everything else that made him so fucked up. And he basically told her he didn't need her.

"you don't get it" he said sadly, even more disappointed in himself for staying with an ex when he knew he should have gone home. He could be in her arms, sleeping and dreaming of her. Not sitting in his ex's car as she talked down on his relationship.

He removed himself from her car, walking into the silent house. Not a single light on, that was weird. She always left the kitchen light on for him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Quietly removing his shoes. His eyes catching the clock on the microwave

2:30

Shit, he thought to himself. He slowly walked into the bedroom, another dark and silent room. He switched on the lamp, seeing her sleeping body cuddled into the blankets. Her back facing him. He noticed his side of the bed was spotless, not pulled, waiting for his arrival. His sad eyes looked from her to the bed and back to her, was he even welcomed to sleep here? He changed into new boxers and pulled the sheets, crawling beside her. Hesitantly moving himself closer. Touching her shoulder as he traced his palm down her arm and around her waist.

"mommy?" He squeaked out softly. A tiny bit of hope that she was awake.

He sighed to himself as he got no answer. Kissing her shoulder softly as he closed his eyes.

Y/N woke up to her alarm blaring. Smashing it off, pissed that she couldn't sleep off her attitude. She looked over and saw Eddie snoring beside her. His adorable face shoved in his pillow, and his hand inches away from where her body was. She tore her eyes away and got herself ready for work.

Not bothering to wake him up and went out the door.

Eddie groaned as he felt his head start to pound. Rolling over to search for his girlfriends body. Frowning when he didn't feel her. He rubbed his eyes as he blinked to the now bright room. Her side of the bed was made, her pajamas folded on her pillow. He sat up and looked around the room. Feeling the need to throw up, he raced to their bathroom. Puking out everything in his body from the night before.

"BABY?" he screamed, holding his hair back as he puked harder. She always helped him when he was hungover. Tying his hair back as she rubbed his back. Puking made him panic. And she somehow always knew how to calm him down.

He sniffled as he heard no response. Reminding himself he was okay. Flushing the toilet and moving to the sink to brush his teeth. He spit out his toothpaste and took out medicine from the cabinet. Sticking his mouth under the faucet to swallow the pills.

He held his head as he moved into the kitchen, his eyes looking at the clock

9:00

"SHIT" he panicked, running into the bedroom. Throwing on any clean clothes he could find. He was late, she was going to kill him.

He raced to his car, throwing it in drive as he sped to the house. His head was still pounding as he got out of the car. Racing into the house

"so the bedroom and bathroom are connected right?"

He sighed in relief hearing her voice. He coughed as he walked up to them.

"I'm so sorry I'm late" he apologized to the realtor, but mostly he meant it for her. He hated that she refused to look at him. His hand slowly moved to grasp hers. Flinching as she crossed her arms the second she felt his hand. He swallowed another lump in his throat. Following behind silently as she talked with the realtor, touring the small house.

He followed behind her as they drove back to their trailer. Quickly getting out as she walked to the front door

"can we talk?" He asked, walking in behind her

"about what?" She said nonchalantly. Sitting on the couch as she turned on the tv

"last night?"

"nothing to talk about Eddie. You wanted to stay and I wanted to leave. That's that" she said, a bitter smile

"are you...mad?" He asked, sitting next to her

"nope" her eyes glued to the tv

He sighed and turned it off, but her eyes never moved to him

"are you sad?"

"I don't get sad" she snapped, arms crossing over her chest

"did I hurt your feelings?" He tried again

"no Eddie. I don't give a shit okay? Drop it" she growled, walking to their bedroom and slamming the door.

She wasn't used to her chest hurting when she looked at him. She didn't know why it seemed to hurt so fucking bad. She thought he enjoyed their dynamic, that he liked how she was so different compared to his past relationships. But maybe they've been doing too long. And he didn't like it anymore.

Eddie stared at the door. Heart pounding. He hasn't been in this position before. He has never seen her so stuck in her own head. Usually he's the one upset and she makes it better with soft touches and a gentle kiss. But he can't even touch her without her flinching away. He honestly didn't think there was anything in the world that could break her down. And he never thought he'd be the one thing.

He knocked worriedly on the door

"I'm getting scared. Please talk to me. I just don't know what to do" he pouted, refusing to stop knocking until she opened the damn door

"figure it out Eddie. Apparently you know what's best for you and can make your own decisions" he flinched at her harsh tone.

Eddie thought long and hard of a plan. Whenever she was mad at him, she'd punish him and they'd be fine. Maybe he needed to beg for a punishment. Help her get the anger out of her system

Around dinner she came out. Cooking silently as she stared at the water boiling

"Eddie, can you grab the sauce from the cabinet?" She asked, her eyes not moving away from the pot

"your legs work" he smirked. Waiting patiently to see how she would react. His smirk fell the second she sighed, moving quietly to the cabinet and grabbing the sauce.

"Eddie can you clean your dish please?" She asked, her eyes looking down at the dirty plate she was scrubbing

"make me" he snapped. Praying she'd turn around with the familiar fire in her eyes.

But just like earlier, she sighed to herself and grabbed his plate off the table, throwing it in the sink as she cleaned it, no words.

"can..can you help me?" He asked shyly, looking up at her as he fixed the broken tile in their bathroom

"thought you could do shit without me" she snapped

Walking past him and back into the bedroom

Yep, he definitely fucked up

Just like the night before he found his side of the bed untouched

He watched as she got undressed. Staring at her naked skin as she threw on her pajamas.

Maybe he just needed to ask?

"mommy, can...can we....have sex?" He squeaked out, nervously biting his lip as he watched her lay down. Stripping his own self down to his boxers

"you can take care of yourself remember" turning her back to him again as she closed her eyes.

He couldn't handle another night with her being so mad at him. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her on her back. Throwing himself on her lap. Trapping her arms under him as he trapped her underneath him

"I'm sorry okay? I don't like this. I don't know what you are thinking or feeling. I'm sorry for everything, for talking back, for staying with Jess" to be fair, he wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for but he felt like Jess was the main reason

"that's not what I need an apology for" he hated how weak her voice sounded. It was always so strong and confident

"what do you need it for? I will gladly beg for forgiveness. Please let me make this better" he begged. He could feel his eyes getting wet as she looked up at him. That distant look in her eyes

"are you happy with me?" He swore he could hear insecurity in her voice

"of course I am" he said instantly, "why would you ask that?"

"you....you called me Y/N for the first time in like two years. You never call me that. I'm not stupid Eddie, I know that Jess said something to make you snap on me. And I just....I felt like it made you realize you didn't like how we were. That you missed being on top and in charge of everything.... that you don't care for me to be your mommy anymore.... I don't feel good enough anymore Eddie okay? You obviously don't need me anymore and my work of putting you together is done. Fixed you up perfectly for other girls apparently. Tell me you hate how we work and tell me sober that you don't need me anymore so I can move on. Now get off of me" she snapped once she felt her eyes getting wet.

She refused to cry over this. She was confident and independent. If Eddie didn't want her anymore that's fine. She'll be gone in a blink of an eye. She didn't need him....she simply just really fucking wanted him.

Eddie could feel his own heart breaking as her eyes filled with tears. How fast her hard exterior was falling apart. Her arms flying as she squirmed underneath him, trying desperately to shove his body off of her

"no don't move on please don't" he cried, not bothering to hide the fact he was bursting into tears over this

"I love you. I only love you. I was stupid and drunk. I don't like being that old Eddie anymore. I love worshipping you. I need you, and I will always fucking need you. I'm sorry for saying stupid shit I didn't mean. I don't like taking care of myself. I love how we work. I love the way you punish me and ruin me. Test my limits and make me beg. I love that you are my mommy and take the best care of me. I've never felt this much love from anyone ever. You fix me more every day, but I'm fixing myself for you. I don't want anyone else. I don't want to learn to love anyone else. Those girls....i mean fuck they aren't even close to being half of the women you are. They let me treat them like shit, but you have no problem putting me in my place. That's what I need. I love you and I can't let you go. Let me fix this please. Let me show you how much I love you mommy " he sobbed above her

Her arms going weak as she watched him cry and babble over her

"Eddie stop crying" she demanded. She couldn't handle his puppy eyes filling with tears when she's supposed to be pissed at him

"I'm sorry" he repeated over and over, lips kissing her neck as he desperately grinded his body against hers. Kissing the same spot over and over as he whispered apologies

"I'm your good boy and that's all I want to be" he admitted, forehead pressing against hers. Letting his tears fall off of his chin and on her chest

She smiled weakly, wiping his tears

"you promise?" She asked weakly

"I promise mommy" he said strongly. No hint of hesitation

"well mommy thinks you need to be reminded how good you have it" her lips curled in a growl

Eddie felt his cock grow harder as the familiar fire burned through her eyes. The sad and distant look gone as she gripped his jaw

"remind me who I belong to, please" he begged, grinding his hips harder against her

She smirked and flipped them over, leaning back on her legs as she sat up. His body laying underneath her

"who's slut are you?" She demanded, her hand moving down his chest and into his boxers

"yours mommy. I'm your slut" he whined. A big sigh of relief when she took his cock out of his boxers

He waited for the usual praise that left her mouth when she would see his cock when she first pulled it out. But she didn't say a word, gripping his cock in a tight grip. Smiling as Eddie's body squirmed

"ow fuck" he whined. Gripping the sheets as she gripped him even harder.

"shut up" she snapped, moving down his body

Spitting on his cock as she jerked his head

"mommy that's so good" he moaned

"I said shut up" she growled, removing her hand from his cock

"I'm sorry. Please" he begged, watching as she walked away

She rolled her eyes, digging through their sex box for his butt plug, her strap, and her biggest dildo

She walked back to the bed, throwing the toys next to his head. His brown eyes looking over at the toys. Then moving back to her as he heard clothing hit the floor

Her naked body sitting near the end of his body

"I mean it. Shut the fuck up and do not speak unless I ask you too" she said, slapping his cock harshly

He bit his lip as he moaned. Choking back his sounds

He nodded fast, eyes begging to be touched

She took the butt plug, staring into his eyes as she took the plug in her mouth, sucking on the toy

"you want this in your asshole baby?" She teased

"yes please mommy" he begged

She smirked as she shoved it in, not bothering to be gentle

He whimpered as he bit his hand. Loving the way his ass felt full from the plug.

"tell me, was Jess one of the girls you made beg for your pathetic cock?" She asked harshly

"yes mommy" he admitted

"you fucked her rough and hard?" Her mouth spitting on his cock again

"fuck...yes" he moaned when she began to jerk his head again

"did you make her scream and cry?"

"yes mommy" he whimpered

"I wonder what she would think if she saw you. A plug up your pathetic ass, tears in your eyes. " She mocked, her tongue licking up his cock. Sucking on just the tip

"I don't care what she thinks" he groaned. Hands itching to push on her head

"why's that?" She asked curiously, jerking his cock roughly as she stared down at him

"fuck...Jesus" he groaned. Words not making it out of his mouth as she roughly jerked him off

"I...I..oh God" he squirmed

"I'm not hearing any answers"

"because I don't care about her. Just you mommy" He stuttered out

"you cared about her enough to question yourself" she added, angry eyes staring into his wet ones. Jerking him off even harder. Her grip was so tight she could barely move fast

"I'm sorry" he whimpered, puppy eyes looking down as she destroyed his cock with no care in the world. God he loved watching her hand fuck him.

"you will be" she threatened. Her hand only focusing on jerking his tip, making sure he was sensitive from the start

"mommy I can't...you need...not the tip the whole time" he choked out, clenching his teeth as his tiny hips squirmed against the mattress

"excuse me? I don't listen to my brat's demands", for that jerking the tip even harder. Rubbing the skin as she ignored the rest of his length

His hand raced down his body, trying to stop her hand from moving

"you better take away that hand right now" she growled "mommy decides when she's done playing with your cock, be a good boy and fucking take it or I'll stop completely"

"no no! Just please" he babbled out, yanking his hand away fast

If she only focused on his sensitive tip he was seconds away from having to beg to cum.

"fuck my hand you whore"

He whimpered as he slowly moved his hips against her hand. Going at his own pace to slow down the orgasm that was so close to boiling over. Bucking his hips in the air as his cock slid easily in the grip of her hand

"fucking pathetic. I know you can go way faster than that" she ignored his cries, going back to jerking him the fastest she could

Eddie couldn't handle it. Hips squirmed against the bed so bad his whole body was cowering away from her. Hands searching for the headboard to grip, he had no control to what left his mouth at this point. Painfully whimpering as he felt his balls tightening

"you need TO STOP, SHIT" he warned

"don't you dare fucking cum. Sit still and take it" she growled. He was thrashing so hard her grip was getting loose as he flipped his body to its side, taking a sigh of relief when her grip was lost

But in seconds his hips were slammed down, trapped underneath her body. She yanked off the rest of his boxers. Throwing the item somewhere around the room

"you are really testing me today" , a slap down across his right cheek had his toes curling

A loud whimper left his lips

"you want mommy to continue?" Her voice was soft and gentle, a huge contrast to the slap across his face

"yes just please slow?" She looked down at his puppy eyes

Getting close to his face, practically breathing in his breath for oxygen

"you'll take it exactly how I give it" she yanked his mouth open

Spitting directly on his tongue

Without question he swallowed it. Humming as he tasted her spit down his throat

"you will not cum tonight, do you understand me?"

"mommy I can't hold it all night" he admitted. He's never been able to. The second he's either being fucked by her in his ass or if she's riding his cock, he always needs to burst and cry.

"I don't give a shit. You'll do it" she ignored his protests, her hand moving down to his butt plug, pushing it in and out. Her thighs still locking him in place. His asshole clenched around the plug. Sucking the toy back in.

One of his hands moved closer to her chest, preparing to grip her right boob when she smacked his hand

"don't fucking touch"

"MOMMY" he whined pathetically at that. He can't cum, he can't touch her, and he has to sit still. Three things Eddie was never good at

"yeah cry out. Make our neighbors hear how much of a brat you are" she mocked, yanking the plug fully out of his ass, throwing it to the side as she reached for the dildo

"I know how to shut you up. Suck mommy's cock for a little bit"

Once again yanking his mouth open, watching as he stuck out his tongue. She smiled and placed the dildos tip flat on his tongue. Watching as his lips closed around it. Sucking it softly as he moaned

"your bratty mouth loves being filled with cock doesn't it?"

He nodded the best he could. Moaning as she slipped the toy deeper in his mouth, watching as drool made its way down his chin. She leaned forward, licking up the mess he was creating.

She kept it at a steady pace. Thrusting the toy in and out of his mouth. Loving the pop of his lips when he released it. The gagging when she pushed just a tad bit too far. The choking when she held it, forcing him to deep throat it. He tried to put on the best show he could. Keeping her distracted enough to realize he technically wasn't being touched anywhere. Giving him more time to recover from his almost orgasm.

After she made him choke three more times, she yanked out the toy. A line of spit following behind.

She tossed the toy to the side, shoving her own tongue down his throat. Giving him no second to catch fresh air before his throat was filled with something else. He moaned instantly. Letting her devour his mouth anyway she wanted. His hands clenching the headboard hard, nails digging into the wood as he tried to keep his hands off of her.

She made the kiss loud and wet. Grinding her hips against his soft stomach. Eddie felt his stomach clenching, feeling her wetness soak his happy trail and belly button

"oh God" he moaned into her mouth as she began to hump his stomach faster

She pulled away and slapped his cheek again

Throwing her head back as her nails dug into his chest, rubbing herself against his stomach

She moaned his name over and over as her fingers tweaked his nipples. Pinching, pulling, and twisting. Loving the way his bottom half kicked and squirmed

She slowed down her hips as she grabbed her strap, smirking down at Eddie's puppy eyes

"put it on" she spat, throwing it on his chest as she got off of him. Looking down at his soaked line of curls leading down to his cock. She rubbed her wetness further in the small patch of hair, loving how it all matted together

"wait me?" He choked out

"yeah. I want to be fucked so you are going to fuck me, but I want a real cock" she growled

"my cock is better than this!" He defended, sitting up as he held the strap

"put it on" she demanded again, ignoring his argument

"if you want to be fucked then I'll fuck you" he snapped, grabbing her ankles as he moved her down the bed

Throwing the strap across the room as far as he could

Spitting on her cunt and rubbing it in

"you think you are good enough to fuck me?" She teased

"I know I'm good" he countered back, yanking her legs apart as he pushed himself inside of her

Moaning instantly as his cock was tightly held by her. He had to focus on her, he had something to prove

"mommy you are so wet" he whined, laying his body down on hers. Holding himself lightly by his arms next to her head. Snapping his hips fast against hers. Immediately feeling her get tight around him. The moments he actually got to fuck her always made his body shake

"fuck I can feel how hard you are" she whined, her hands thrown around his neck as she moved her hips up to match him

He was desperately pounding into her. Sounds of their skin smacking bounced off their bedroom walls. Moans and whines, from both, filled the space between their bodies.

One thing she knew Eddie hated was when she didn't praise him when he was in her

She refused to let him have this

Clamping her mouth shut as he fucked her. She couldn't deny it, this was the best he's ever fucked her. His hips were smacking into hers so hard. His hip bones practically stabbed her. His patch of dark brown pubes were brushing against her clit and it was driving her insane. The feeling of his balls smacking her ass had her hands yanking his hair.

"come on, I know you want to moan for me" he growled, he used his left hand to hold himself up, his right hand cupping her jaw, forcing her to look at him

Staring into her eyes as he slowed down his hips. Pounding harshly one thrust at a time. He could feel her tits jolting with each thrust but he refused to break the eye contact. He made sure to give each thrust all he had. Making them as hard as he could. Making sure to go as deep as he could. Smirking as her eyes began to roll into the back of her head. Her jaw opening as she let out soundless moans

"come on mommy. Moan for me" he tried again, drilling her harder into the mattress

When she refused to make a sound, he grew more frustrated, sticking two fingers into his mouth then rubbing her clit.

"fuck" she said quietly

It was quiet but he'd take it. Rubbing her clit faster, going back to fast and rough thrusts. Refusing to stop. Clenching his eyes, making sure this didn't backfire on him. He couldn't cum either.

"mommy, come on" he grunted, sinking his teeth in her neck

She held clumps of his hair as she panted beneath him

"mommy please. Say something" he whined, smashing his forehead against hers. "tell me I'm doing good. Please mommy. I'm doing good right?"

She could hear the insecurity laced in his voice. The pleading behind his whines. His eyes were full of determination, his cock was hitting spots she never knew she had. She could practically feel him in her stomach. At the end of the day the man she was hopelessly in love with was begging for some type of reassurance that she was feeling good, and that broke her down.

"I'm close baby. You are doing so good. So fucking good. Mommy is so close to cumming. You going to make me cum?" Her heart beamed as his face lit up

"yeah I'm gonna make mamma cum" he moaned

Smiling as he kissed her lips. Rubbing her clit as fast as he could

"That's it. My fucking good boy" she moaned, her hand moving to his back, holding his ass as she shivered underneath him.

"cum mommy. Cum for your good boy"

"EDDIE GOD" she screamed, panting as her orgasm washed over her. Soaking his cock in her cum as she clawed at his ass

Eyes closed as she threw her head back

Missing the way Eddie smiled down at her, a proud look in his eyes. Watching every detail of her face as she came. The way her eyes shut, her neck thrown back, her nails scratching his ass, her tits being shoved against his chest. The way her mouth opened and small pants of air came through.

He slowly fucked her through it, slipping out of her slowly, hissing as he was still rock hard

"and you didn't even cum. I'm so fucking proud of you" she praised, leaning up to kiss him hard

He whined into her lips. Elbows on either side of her head as he kissed her deeper. One hand still on his ass, the other one cupping his jaw as she leaned up, easily slipping her tongue and moving it against his. He could feel precum leaking, panting as he pulled away.

"I'll never love anyone as much as I love you" he whispered, kissing her nose softly

"dammit. Don't be so cute" she teased, shoving his shoulder

"tell me you love me" he begged, his puppy eyes back in work

"I love you baby" she said, tugging him down against her chest. Rubbing his back as he sighed into her

"did you mean it about no cumming tonight?" He asked nervously

"sure did brat" she teased, smacking his ass as her other hand played with his hair

"mommy" he whined desperately

"not happening" she laughed, tickling his soft skin

"go to sleep and maybe I'll help you out tomorrow" she proposed

He nodded into her chest, trying to ignore that his throbbing cock was inches away from her cunt. A cunt that was still dripping on him.

Digging his face into her neck. Pecking the skin softly

"I'm sorry again for making you feel not good enough"

"it's okay bud. We're okay now" she smiled, kissing his sweaty head

His hand searching for the one in his hair, lacing it with his as he pressed their hands into his face, kissing her hand repeatedly

Sometimes she needed reassurance more than him. And he would never pass up the chance to remind her he was in love with her.

Tags!

@simping-over-boys-with-trauma @capricornrisingsstuff @somnialol @buginnettesstuff @thegemaqua @skyline4446 @bunnyweasley23

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming

@eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy

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blackgirlwhowrites2k23 · 5 months

Text

A/N: Inconsistency is my middle name💀. But here’s this idea that came to my mind that I just HAD to write. Also sorry if the emojis look terrible, I wrote some of this on my phone, some on my iPad and then the rest on my computer so the format is kinda crazy.

Summary: You’re a well renowned actress and bachelorette that many have been trying to get at. Unfortunately, you never gave them the time of day. Until, someone comes along.

Possible Continuation: This may (emphasis on may because you know me💀) be a part of series I’m planning on doing. If not, I'll just come back and delete this paragraph and pretend nothing happened.

You have one message from...(Jamal Musiala)

Part 1:

Song:

Yourusername added to their feed

Liked by jordan_poole, judebellingham, keke, and 7,006,726 others

yourusername: Can’t believe how far I’ve come! Taking home not one, but three. Forever blessed💕 🙏🙏🙈

View all 21,346 comments

fan1 WOW. WOW. WOW.

fan2 W actress >>>>

zendaya Words cannot describe how proud I am of you 🥹❤️❤️❤️

↪️yourusername Love you loads🥹💕💕

fan1 Did I mention WOWWWW😍😍

fan3 Ok, but who’s doing it like Y/N. 3 Back to Back,!?!?! Literally making history🥳😍😍😩

fan4 Y’all peep all the athletes in her likes and comments. I wonder how many are in her dms👀🫣

↪️fan5 Shiiittt. Im in them too!!😭😭💯💯

↪️fan4 Me too🤦‍♂️

skaijackson YUP!! I know that’s right!!💁🏾‍♀️👸🎉🎉

❤️ liked by author

Jamalmusiala10, judebellingham, and 1,274 others started following you

----------------------------------------------

------------------------

yourusername added to their feed

Liked by judebellingham, jamalmusiala10, cocojones and 6,697,442 others

Yourusername: Party, afterparty, after party🥳🎉

Tyla: The prettiest!!!

↪️ yourusername: And that's what they prefer😝🤩

↪️ tyla: LMAOOO love that!💖💖💖

Judebellingham: 😍😍

↪️random1_Hey Jude??🤨...

random2: The way both Jude and Jamal started following her at about the same time.

↪️random3: Real ones know he's been lurking for a fat minute now!!

↪️random2: Guess I'm not a real one. Who?

↪️random3: Mr. Jude Victor Bellingham

↪️random4: And she's liked some of his pics, even though they don't follow eachother. Looks like Musiala already lost LOL

-----------------------

The weight of exhaustion presses down on you as you sink into the comfort of your bed. It's been a relentless week, filled with auditions, interviews, and movie filming sessions. The tranquility of your bedroom offers a brief respite from the chaos that typically surrounds your life.

But of course, that doesn't last forever.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You debate ignoring it, anyone texting at this time falls into one of two categories—people who are wayy too thirsty for their own good and miserable haters. For some reason tonight, perhaps out of boredom or a faint hope for something different, you decide to check.

You received one instagram notification from JamalMusiala10

The name doesn't immediately register with you since it's so late and your mind is still heavy with sleep, but you open the message anyway.

You groan inwardly, already regretting your decision to open the message. Jamal Musiala—the famous soccer player that plays for that German team? Bayern? You only recently got into football, so there was still much for you to learn but you're pretty sure that's who he is. You'll stalk his socials tomorrow.

For now, though, what could he possibly want from you? It's 2 in the morning. Again, he's either wayyyy too thirsty or maybe he's a possible hater?

How's it hanging?!?!?

This boy can NOT be serious.

You can't help but stifle a laugh at his attempt at casual banter. Is he a middle-aged white dad?

Wayy too thirsty it is! Never fails.

To be continued…..

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marvelousbuckley · 1 month

Text

Pardon my french!

BuckTommy Positivity Week 2024 - day one

I know i'm late to the party but @searching-for-the-moon gave me a great idea so here we are. You can learn more about this challenge through @bucktommypositivityweek's blog!

Prompt: what they love most about each other

You can read it on AO3 or down below. Every fic will be posted on AO3 as chapters of the same fic!

-----

“Okay, I’m impressed now. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Tommy looks at Evan who is wearing the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, a happy grin of his own gently warming up his face as they leave the gallery where they spent two hours learning pottery. In the bag Evan is carrying lays a strange attempt of a mug, base not quite flat and edges all wrong and messy. The mug is yellow, painted with care and patience. Which weren’t enough to ensure a great result. Against the mug, two bowls are wrapped in newspaper sheets. They are bright blue with white flowers, both perfect shapes, both delicately painted. Both the work of a Tommy who cannot stop smiling while his boyfriend continues to compliment him. It is endearing, the way Evan talks and talks and talk, always eager to let Tommy knows how much he’s impressed by anything new he learns about him.

“I swear Evan, it was the first time I did pottery.”

“Not the first time you painted though, so it’s almost like you cheated.” The blond can’t stop his smile from widening again, and his free hand quickly finds itself in Tommy’s one. They walk together like that for a while, heading to Evan’s loft just four blocks away from the gallery where the class was happening.

“It is so infuriating, you are always good at everything you try, how is that possible?” He continues, not paying attention to the world around him, and Tommy has to pull him fast by the hand before Evan bumps into a trash can. The movement coax Evan in Tommy’s direction, and soon enough the two men are against each other, chests touching and the older man’s arms around Evan’s waist, a gesture his body cannot stop doing when his boyfriend is close enough. It does nothing but push another bright smile on Evan’s face and Tommy must kiss him about it.

He knows his boyfriend clumsiness and unawareness of what surrounds him should bug him, but he can’t stop thinking it makes the other man even more adorable, if it is humanly possible. Evan is living in a world of his own, and for six months now he’s been okay with letting Tommy be a part of it.

Tommy loves him for that. He loves him for pretty much everything Evan does or says.

“I’m not good at everything!” He interjects, a laugh on his voice when they start walking again and Evan gives him a deadpan look, almost bumping into another human being.

“Shut up, I’m sure you can do crazy things. Like, I don’t know, French braid! Or macarons, which is so fucking hard to do right, by the way. Hell, I am sure you know how to speak French while we’re at it!"

Evan had started hyperfixating on everything French related since the opening of the Paris Olympics. “They had a dancing croissant; can you believe it? And the torchbearer? I’ve never seen somebody this hot, except you of course. If I hadn’t discovered my bisexuality with you, this person would have done the trick just fine.”

He then proceeded to explain to Tommy what the French torchbearer had been about, some reference to video games as well as opera. “Did you know Assassin’s Creed was French? And so are the Minions! And The Daft Punk! Even the helicopter was invented by the French!”

So, Evan talking about macarons and French braid isn’t that weird.

The thing is, Tommy’s answer is a surprise so unexpected that Evan’s jaw drop when his boyfriend respond. “Oh no, you don’t want me near long haired heads, and I’m not really good at macarons, I’m more of a waffle guy anyway. French though-”

Evan stops him before he can say anything else.

“Thomas Kinard, do not tell me you know how to speak French.”

Tommy’s amused face must be a good enough answer because Evan’s stops right here, in the middle of the sidewalk, starstruck. “Do you speak French?”

« Un petit peu, je ne me suis pas entrainé depuis longtemps. »

Evan does not know what it means, he doesn’t even know if Tommy said it right or if he just invented words to play with him. But it doesn't matter anyway, he’s too flabbergasted to care.

“What. The. Fuck.” He manages to say after way to long of a pause, proof that his brain just stopped working. It makes Tommy giggle, and the pilot brings his boyfriend hand to his lips and places a kiss on each one of his fingers.

“Tout va bien ?” He then asks, knowing full well what the words cause in Evan’s head.

Chaos, pure unexpected, hot as fuck chaos.

“What. Why. How. What. Fuck, how?” The younger man is clearly losing it and Tommy knows there is only one way to soothe his lover’s brain. So he takes a step forward, Evan’s free hand still in his, his other hand cupping Evan’s face, and proceed to kiss his boyfriend slowly, almost lazy, a hint of defiance in every one of his movements. Usually Evan melts on the touch, but this time he finds the strength to back-up, well, not before he moans in Tommy’s lips and kiss him back anyway.

“I’ll still need answers Kinard.”

“Let’s go home first, and then maybe I’ll give you some.” Tommy replies, a knowing smile on his face, pupils darkening with the promise of giving.

-----

“So, how?”

They both lay in Evan’s bed, sweaty and sore and happy. The bag with their dishes inside has been abandoned on the diner table, and their clothes have been thrown in every part of the loft without any care.

Tommy thinks about his answer for a moment, before he turns his head toward Evan, looking at him with a mix of tenderness and guilt. “I… I dated a guy. It was a long time ago, but the words stayed.” It is all he his able to say before he looks away, worried that Evan might get jealous, or sad, or something. Instead, Evan puts his hand on Tommy’s chest, playing with the hairy skin, and looks at him with fondness.

“You know, you don’t have to be ashamed of your past Tommy. I have exes too.” He says, trying to comfort the older man, a bright smile even in his voice. His tone is reassuring, and Tommy finally looks back at him with a sheepish glance.

“I know, it’s just… It has always been a thing with my other exes, you know? French is romantic, French is the language of love and, well, a lot of the men I dated weren’t happy that I had learned it for someone else you know?”

Evan nods, still admiring his boyfriend, caressing his perfect body.

“Is it why you hadn’t told me about it yet?” Tommy hums and Evan drops a kiss on his cheek, a touch so intimate the pilot still can’t quite believe he deserves it. “Well, I’m not jealous, and I’m not angry. I love that you give one hundred percent when you love someone, and that you are capable of learning a whole language just for them.” He smiles again, shifting his body so he’s almost completely on top of Tommy. “And it would be really stupid of me to be mad because you can speak French to me. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I love it! I love you Tommy, and every moment that made you you. The good and the bad.” Tommy smiles disappear when Evan come and kiss him, a deep, heated kiss. In his lips Tommy swears he can taste love. “But what I love most is that I’m getting used to all those little things I learn about you. I want to be used to everything about you for ever.”

“Sounds good to me.”

-----

translation:

- A little bit, i've not trained for a long time.

- Is everything okay?

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lady-quen · 9 days

Text

On Mael and the Dream - lore exploration

I've been hanging around the Grove and listening to NPC dialogue which got me thinking about sylvari and the Dream (though, to be honest, when am I not thinking about that lately..)

As a Soundless not by choice ever since his revival, Mael misses the connection quite a bit - thankfully Aurene fills some of that void with the Champion-Scion bond. Essentially, going from Dreamer to suddenly and traumatically severed, Mael feels like a part of his own ability to feel emotion was ripped away, and struggles with friendship, seeing that "missing piece" everywhere and as though none of his relationships can truly feel "right" anymore. He describes the visions he sees in his sleep as "being submerged in dark water with chain and weight at his feet" - knowing there are voices calling out to him but being unable to hear them.

Coupled with the loss of Trahearne, he feels like he might genuinely be unable to feel love again, and becomes extremely emotionally secluded behind his mask of snarky humor. The overwhelming absence of the Dream tricks him into thinking that relationships with other races cannot ever be as "deep and true" as those between sylvari, leading to quite the mental crisis as he learns to adjust to the abrupt change with the help of the party, the Soundless community, and Aurene.

He seeks out an audience with the Pale Tree as soon as his duties afford him the time, but is ultimately told he cannot be helped, since the Dream is a part of the magic domain of Mind and Mael's own innate magic was replaced along with his life force. The Mother herself was unable to see anything beyond the point of his death, and initially believed him tragically deceased.

Mael then confesses he no longer feels worthy of Caladbolg, especially now when he is closer to a lich than sylvari - some form of cruel joke considering Mazdak the Accursed's role in the death of Riannoc, as well as the lich's eventual demise at Mael's own hands. Having ended two between Mazdak and Joko, the Lichslayer had now become the very monster he once hunted - the original harbinger of death to the sylvari. The Pale Tree however only responds that though she may no longer see him, she would always love him, and that death was as much a part of life as anything - that there was a reason why events had gone the way they had, and how she ultimately still trusts him as her child, no matter how changed. Though still struggling, he promises to hold onto the sword until a new Knight of the Thorn rises, a full circle from originally recovering the blade.

In a sense, fearing his own corruption through his twisted magic, he is glad his experiences could not affect the rest of the sylvari. As for Caladbolg itself - despite how much he feels giving it up to be the right thing to do, it's the only connection to Trahearne he still has, and so he decides he would only process the grief of parting with it once again if the Mother called for it. For now, it remained his to safekeep, just like his dearheart's memory.

During his own personal journey of self-reflection, the Soundless of the Weeping Isle play a notable role. At first, Maelmordha expresses how he finds it difficult to fathom why one might choose to separate oneself from the Dream willingly, which comes across as highly offensive to the Isle's villagers - a rare fumble from the usually open-minded Dawnborn. Still, a total separation is unheard of among sylvari, even those who had deliberately meditated years to quieten the connection - having it happen so suddenly and so wholly nearly broke the Commander's already troubled mind. Spending time learning about the Soundless' reasoning and ways of life with Eona as his mentor was an important step in improving the Commander's mental health.

It takes time, but he learns to open up again and accept the fact his emotions aren't broken, he just needs time to relearn them and accept himself as he is.

#Commander's musings #hot spoilers #pof spoilers #trammander #mentioned at least #Maelmordha #Hang on I'll just make them their own tag #Tramordha #that sounds nice......#brb gonna sob again

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months

Note

Mr. Rollo, how do I tell my crush I have a crush on him even though he doesn’t even know I exist and I’m too shy to approach him?

…also I think you need more sleep, you’re starting to look like a raccoon, and bae you’re not slaying that look at all

NO LEAVE HIM ALONE 😭 THE RACCOON EYES MAKE HIM CUTER (<- delusional) Rollo's voluntarily celibate/j

Like Fire, Hellfire.

"Hmph, so that is why your eyes have been wandering as of late." Rollo crossed his arms, mouth pulled back into an open frown. "You're dazed and distracted by some boy. Worse yet, it's one of those horrid mages. I can't say I approve."

You nodded sheepishly. You were doing a poor job of fighting the heat climbing to your face.

Rollo stared at you with a mixture of pity and revulsion. “If you're seeking romantic assistance, you've come to the entirely wrong person for it—especially not if you close your request off with a comment on how I present myself. I would never endorse such an endeavor to begin with."

"B-But..."

He fixed you with a stern look. "Rather than pursue the object of your affections, I strongly encourage you to abstain. Going down the path of passion will only lead you further astray. Such ardent desires should be curbed before they spiral into something you cannot hope to control."

"Whoa, whoa, don't you think that's saying too much?" you protested. "It's not like I'm going to commit murder just because I have feelings for someone."

"You may as well. Feelings of affection may appear innocuous at first glance, even comforting. I once foolishly believed the same of magic,” he spat, his words harsh and hateful. “Look where that has gotten us.”

Love. Magic. In the end, it was all the same.

Rollo set his jaw firmly, hands balling into fists. Neatly trimmed nails bit into the flesh of his palms.

“One little thing so easily snowballs into another. Infatuation leads to absentmindedness, absentmindedness leads to emotional distress, emotional distress leads to self-destruction." He waved a hand dismissively. "Not to mention all the nonsense of—"

Rollo made a face.

"—God forbid, longing looks, which leads to finger grazing, which leads to hand holding, which leads to kissing! To entrust the most vulnerable aspects of oneself to another is…!!”

Now he looked as though he was close to dry heaving. Or exploding. Maybe both at the same time.

He caught himself, and took a deep, calming breath. “… As I was saying, it would be far better for all parties for you to stash those bothersome thoughts away. No one will be hurt if you take care to avoid initiation. Heed my words: do not be tempted to sin and vice, however drunk you are on infatuation.”

“It’s not that easy.” You clutched both hands over your trembling heart. “Every part of me aches to be with him. I can’t just bury and deny these feelings. And if he ends up with someone else because I never said anything… I think that would hurt me the most.”

“You must resist its allure,” Rollo insisted sharply. “The feeling will wear away with time, I assure you.”

Just as I turned away from magic and the misery it brings.

Your shoulders slumped, hopeful expression sagging. A firecracker, at last coming to the end of its fuse—but not yet a broken heart.

You held on, steadfast. “You weren’t helpful at all, Mr. Rollo.”

“Come now, don’t make such a long face.” He heaved a sigh. “It's plain to see that there is no saving from whatever blasted enchantment has been cast upon you. All I am able to do is impart my advice and pray that you take it into consideration."

With that, he turned away. The conversation was over.

His piece was said.

Whatever happened next was up to you.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #Reader #self insert

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calliesmemes · 6 months

Text

RISE OF THE GUARDIANS (2012)

A SET OF SENTENCE STARTERS PULLED FROM THE DIALOGUE FEATURED IN DREAMWORKS’ ANIMATED FILM RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ Why I am here and what I am meant to do, that I've never known. A part of me wonders if I ever will. ”

“ Oh, uh, excuse me. Can you tell me where I am? ”

“ How many times have I told you to knock? ”

“ We are going to have company. ”

“ It is our job to watch over the children of the world and keep them safe. ”

“ The children are in danger. ”

“ An enemy we have kept at bay for centuries has finally decided to strike back. ”

“ We alone can stop him. ”

“ I obviously wouldn't have called you all here unless it was serious. ”

“ Look, he's up to something very bad. I feel it in my belly. ”

“ I don't have time for this! ”

“ We have a serious situation. ”

“ It's been a long time, old friend. ”

“ Since when do we need help? ”

“ He doesn't care about children! ”

“ Oh, that looks interesting. Good book? ”

“ Come on! You guys will believe anything. ”

“ Okay, who threw that? ”

“ Did you guys see that? It was amazing! ”

“ What's a guy got to do to get a little attention around here? ”

“ But I can do it this time! ”

“ Straight to bed now, mister. ”

“ If there's something I'm doing wrong, can you just tell me what it is? ”

“ Why, there's only one thing missing. ”

“ Feel your fear. Come on. Come on, that's right. ”

“ Don't look at me like that, old friend. ”

“ You must have known this day would come. ”

“ You're not still mad about that, are you? ”

“ You got to be kidding me. ”

“ Oh, yeah, I love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal. ”

“ I've heard a lot about you. ”

“ Hey, ho, anyone want to tell me why I'm here? ”

“ I must've done something really bad to get you four together. ”

“ What are you doing? Get off of me! ”

“ What makes you think I want to be a Guardian? ”

“ This is all very flattering, but, uh, you don't want me. ”

“ I don't think you understand what it is we do. ”

“ All the more reason to pick someone more qualified. ”

“ You were chosen! Like we were all chosen. ”

“ You see, you cannot say no. It is destiny. ”

“ No, no. That's not for me! No offense. ”

“ None of them believe in you, do they? ”

“ It's like you don't even exist. ”

“ It's nothing personal. But what you all do, it's just not my thing. ”

“ You must have something very special inside yourself. ”

“ I told you I'm not going with you guys! ”

“ Hold on, everyone! I know a shortcut. ”

“ Oh, thank goodness. One of you is all right. ”

“ I have to say, this is very, very exciting. ”

“ I'm a little starstruck. ”

“ Maybe I want what you have. ”

“ Since when are you all so chummy? ”

“ Oh, good. A neutral party. ”

“ I'm going to ignore you. But you must be used to that by now. ”

“ You shadow-sneaking ratbag, come here! ”

“ Took me a while to perfect this little trick. ”

“ They smell fear, you know. ”

“ Such happy times for me. Oh, the power I wielded. ”

“ Oh, there's nothing to be afraid of. ”

“ They... They don't believe in me anymore. ”

“ There will be nothing but fear and darkness. ”

“ It's your turn not to be believed in. ”

“ You should have seen them. They put up such a fight. ”

“ When someone needs to remember what's important, we help them. ”

“ Are you saying I had a life before that, with a home and a family? ”

“ You really don't remember? ”

“ All these years, the answers were right here. ”

“ No such thing as too late! ”

“ Look, I'd tell you to stay out of my way, but, really, what's the point? ”

“ Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy there, champ. ”

“ Why did I ever stop doing this? ”

“ All right, nobody panic. ”

“ You know, for a neutral party, you spend an awful lot of time with those weirdos. ”

“ This isn’t your fight. ”

“ Remind me not to get on your bad side. ”

“ Don't fight the fear! ”

“ How did you do that? ”

“ Finally! Someone who knows how to have a little fun! ”

“ I just... I wish I could've done something. ”

“ I don't know who you were in your past life. ”

“ How can I know who I am until I find out who I was? ”

“ He's tipped the balance. ”

“ Crikey! Somebody do something. ”

“ When was the last time you guys actually hung out with kids? ”

“ How much time do we have? ”

“ All right, troops, it's time to push back. ”

“ Don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you. ”

“ It's the one thing I always know. People's greatest fears. ”

“ Why were you chosen to be like this? ”

“ They'll never accept you. Not really. ”

“ You make a mess wherever you go. ”

“ You should be happy you still get dreams like that and not nightmares. ”

“ They never really believed in you. ”

“ All those years in the shadows I thought no one else knows what this feels like. But now I see I was wrong. ”

“ We don’t have to be alone. ”

“ Look at what we can do. ”

“ They'll fear both of us. And that's not what I want. ”

“ You have a bad habit of interfering. ”

“ You can't have fun all the time. ”

“ It's okay. It's okay. Don't look down. Just look at me. ”

“ I promise, I promise. You're gonna be... You're gonna be fine. You have to believe in me. ”

“ You and I are obviously at what they call a crossroads. ”

“ He told me you were real. Just when I started to think that maybe you weren't. ”

“ That little trick doesn't work on me anymore. ”

“ All this fuss over one little boy. ”

“ There are other ways to snuff out a light. ”

“ If you want him, you're gonna have to go through me. ”

“ I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see you all like this. ”

“ I'm just not afraid of you. ”

“ Mate, you are a sight for sore eyes. ”

“ You dare have fun in my presence ”

“ Leaving the party so soon? You didn't even say goodbye. ”

“ You can't get rid of me! Not forever. ”

“ There will always be fear. ”

“ It is time that you take the Oath. ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

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ceruleanvulpine · 4 months

Text

they're so goddamn funny. the cut from martin being like uhh no i think i will not call you by your first name, terrifying new boss?! to this really emphasizes that

a) they've been working together A Lot and

b) peter is a really annoying man. anyone who has more than three conversations with peter gets over their fear enough to start irritatedly interrupting him, which is presumably why he doesn't give people the chance most of the time

(transcripts under the cut)

PETER

Well, if your Archives were a bit better-organized, it wouldn’t have taken me almost three months to find the evidence you needed.

MARTIN

What?

PETER

I’m just saying that we’d all be better off if your Archivist actually knew how to archive.

MARTIN

(enough) Peter.

PETER

Anyway, I’m very excited to see this rota you’ve put together.

MARTIN

(overlapping) Oh – oh, okay.

PETER

Never had much of a gift for administration myself – too many variables. Now, this box on the left, that’s the library stuff, yes?

MARTIN

Wh– n,no! That’s the – Those are the dates! I – (clicking) Look, are you sure you don’t want me to teach you; i-it’s a very simple program –

PETER

No, no. Can’t stand computers. Besides, that’s why I have an assistant, isn’t it?

MARTIN

(sighing) Yeah. I guess so.

PETER

(patronizing) Martin. It’s going to be decades, if not centuries, before I get another chance to bring Forsaken into this world. (deep inhale) Your last Archivist saw to that. Honestly, if Elias hadn’t killed that woman, I’d have been very tempted. I warned him she was danger, but he was always –

MARTIN

(overlapping) Peter, Peter!

PETER

(long sigh, exasperated) As I said, one of the last shreds of the Circus delivered a gateway into Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe. I went to help, but was too late. Then, your detective friend –

MARTIN

(overlapping) No, she’s not a de–

PETER

(ignoring) – left on one of Elias’s wild goose chases. Then John willfully hurled himself into the coffin. I did not intervene because thankfully, I did not agree to protect your friends from their own idiocy.

[Martin huffs.]

So. So what; what does it mean? Am I supposed to be reassured that new entities can be born, that there’s some – some kind of precedent for the Extinction?(slight pause) Peter? (pause) Huh. Maybe he has gone to a party. (clipped exhale) Anyway.

PETER

I’m absolutely delighted with your progress, and I believe you deserve some straight answers.

MARTIN

…But not from you.

PETER

Oh, no. That sort of conversation makes me very uncomfortable; no, I’m owed a favor by a friend of mine. I’ve asked him to stop by, once he’s back in the country.

MARTIN

You’re not just going to tell me, maybe?

PETER

(can hear the smile) When have I ever?

[Martin sighs the longest sigh he ever did sigh.]

PETER

Oh, come now. What would life be without the occasional twist? Oh, speaking of, I’ve had report of a workplace dispute in the library, and I would value your input.

I’m trying to get out of the habit of, what did you call it – sending them away?

[Martin sighs again, weary and longsuffering.]

MARTIN

Fine.

MARTIN

Another day, another Extinction scare. The more things change, I guess.

[He sighs again, longer this time. When he picks back up, a familiar squeaky static begins to fade in, quickly.]

MARTIN

I just wish Peter would finally get round to telling me what we’re going to do about it.

PETER

Then I have good news for you!

[Martin sucks in a hard breath, and we hear what sounds like his chair scraping backwards in alarm.]

MARTIN

(admonishing, annoyed) Peter, we have talked about this!

PETER

In my defense, it is still quite funny.

[Martin takes an annoyed breath to keep his cool.]

#ceruleanrambling #tma

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

Text

The Fox Hunt (Yandere Mafia!Cyno, Tighnari, and Alhaitham/Reader)

A very brief summary of chapter 2 for those who had to skip due to CWs: You had been bottling your grief. You hired Alhaitham as an underboss and he tagged along when you negotiated with Diluc. (Thanks to his presence, you avoided getting kidnapped by the Visconti). When you visited the church, Rosaria offered to help you track Tighnari down and Cyno shared his story about losing his younger brother later on. At night, you decided to visit your old underboss's grave. An old friend, Dainsleif, found you in the cemetery, and helped you finally cry your eyes out for all the lives you lost that day.

CW: yandere & religious themes, mafia syndicates (therefore guns, violence, etc). Possible major character death. THIS IS AN INTERACTIVE FIC: YOUR CHOICES MATTER.

"O Capo! My Capo!" - Chapter 3

Previous chapter

—----

[4 years ago:]

"You seem to be stealing fleeting glances earwards the whole time I've been leafing pages."

"Ah, so you've noticed." You spoke sheepishly. "My apologies, Professor, but your ears are…"

Tighnari's ears boastfully straightened as he shrugged with a tiny smile.

"They do not feel as nice as you're imagining. They honestly just feel like any regular cat's or dog's."

"Your behavior says otherwise." You said. "But it's deserved. You groom it every other hour, don't you?"

"Hah?"

On a late 1910s night, renowned writer Professor Tighnari prepared his next discussion in the Innamorati Familia’s mansion.

Why inside such a dangerous place? Well, what is Teyvat without corruption? The Syndicates remained in control for most of Teyvat, and no military forces can quell their power. It reached a period where people cannot envision life without these organizations as detrimental to society. No man can exhaust the flames that burn brightly amongst the Fatui mafiosos, and should they try, they'll only find smoke in their wounded chest.

Professor Tighnari joined the Innamorati Familia when several academics from his university inexplicably vanished. The fox believes they'll target him next based on their trend of research topics. He initially gave his services in exchange for the security of his research, but unanticipatedly discovered that everyone in the Familia has values, culture– precious lives of their own. They were kind people who simply had a penchant for violence. As strange of a revelation as it may sound, they lived their lives hurting as little as they could with their religious restrictions upheld by their capo.

Not long after that, the hitherto snarky professor had become close friends with the aforementioned boss.

"Don't think I don't notice that every time I'm about to enter the room, you brush your fur like you're five minutes late to a party."

"I-I just wanted to look presentable, that's all. Do you think I'd show up to work with bed hair? Who am I? Dimitri?"

Aware of his sharp tongue but lacking the means to keep it in check, Tighnari accidentally insulted your underboss. The hairs on his body stood and he was ready to make a fool of himself by offering an apology, but your usually unreadable resting face looked warm.

"Mhm. Sure. I'll choose to believe that." Without hiding your curiosity, you turned back to his ears. His ears were not touched, despite your hands being close to his head.

"A-as you should." Fortunately, Tighnari is good at masking his emotions. If cowardice overcame him, he would encounter a blade's glimmer rather than your gaze. Tighnari digressed by returning to his books while maintaining the illusion that his thoughts were clear.

"Alright then. Platonically, can I pet you?"

"... Excuse me?"

"You're one of those Vulpes who always wondered why close friends would think touching your ears would make you angry right?" You told him in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

Tighnari is a smart man, yet he is unable to understand how your mind may go in circles and still arrive at a logical conclusion. He did ask, but it didn't make sense. You sincerely advised him to give up most possessions and gain a new perspective from the experience when he sought guidance on how your deduction functions. There is no way in hell that he would act in that manner.

You continued. "I'm just skipping that whole step. So, are we intimate enough for me to run my fingers through your hair?"

Tighnari snorted. "Phrasing, Capo."

"So, am I a close enough friend to touch you in that special area?"

"You'll never get me flustered– I might just bite you instead if you keep testing me."

"What a major shame."

Your gaze lowered to the pages he was writing. Tighnari is a well-known botanist at the University of Teyvat, a public university for bright students with limited financial resources. His intricate writing style regarding the fundamentals of bryophytes speaks volumes. You doubt that students can understand what he jotted down, but then again, Tighnari's an effective communicator.

In all honesty, you hated those books, not because of their contents, but because of the memories laced within them.

These were the type of pages you sift through in hopes that you will be the one to decipher a cure. Dottore used to help you sort through whatever books were more easily digestible. Nowadays staring at something related to moss feels akin to reading about an end of a long relationship. It was fun and exciting, but ultimately the compatibility led nowhere. As much as you want to tell him that he should take his research elsewhere, he'd probably reply with a sassy "Or what? Are you going cage me?" reply. Simply not worth the effort or time.

He cleared his throat, his cheeks dusted in a pinkish hue. "Whatever. You can pet me if y–"

"Mosses huh? Why this area of study?" Those words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Tighnari tucked his tail underneath his chair, his eyes unblinking.

" … I have a theory."

You nodded, recognizing the shift in his tone. "Go on."

"The Goddess of Flowers often described in their books that Sumeru's mosses have an intricate healing property in them that can only be harnessed by those who are as knowledgeable as the Scarlet King."

"I never thought you were a devotee."

"I'm not," Tighnari answered. "I only believe in Gnosticism when it benefits me."

Spoken like a true University of Teyvat graduate.

"But phytotherapy is a rather complex and time-consuming field– why focus on this?"

"And why does a Capo like you know that?" Tighnari asked, and you digressed immediately to avoid him probing on things he need not know.

"–Our familia is doing fine, Professor. Hmm... Is there someone in particular that you're praying for good health–"

"You have Eleazar, don't you, Capo?"

You knew it. He saw the recollection in your gaze when you glanced at his books. You weren't surprised that he figured it out quickly. You were just waiting for him to confess that he knew your condition. However, you just didn't expect him to ask at that very moment.

This time, you patted his head without asking, tracing your fingers around his fluffy ears. You grinned. Your smile was just a centimeter off and your shoulders were square; neither of those rigid signs sent him a positive response. The way you held his ears was restrictive, far from the quote-unquote "platonic" gesture you offered earlier. Your soft chortles sent chills down his spine and your glare froze his nerves akin to Snezhnayan rivers.

"Hoping to sell that information, Vulpes?"

"Of course not!" Tighnari was shocked to hear himself raise his voice. "I'm not stupid."

You hummed and pulled your hand away. Tighnari may have acted tough, but you knew he was shaken by that exchange.

Oh well, it's not like you were being serious.

You just did that so you can hold his ears. (By the way, he lied. They're even fluffier than most animals.)

Unbeknownst to you, Tighnari found your touch enthralling. He shook by an entirely different reason compared to your assumption.

Talking to you was addictive. Tighnari could take his studies elsewhere, but what's the point if you're not there?

He chuckled.

Save for the low-volume classic jazz the fox played in the background, you both indulged in the comfortable silence of each other's presence. An atmosphere as cozy as this makes it tempting to brush your cheek against his shoulder and flutter your eyes shut– but the dawn hasn't crept in and you will not be deterred from your sleep schedule. Tighnari's pleasant pen strokes came to a halt, releasing you from your trance.

"Capo?"

"... Yes?" You sucked your yawn in.

"If– If I told you I could find you a cure, but I'd have to sell my soul for it, what would you do?"

"Easy question: don't."

He was taken aback. Tighnari did not expect that answer.

"But why?"

"I know that look in your eyes, Tighnari." You shifted on the sofa, doing your utmost to stay awake. "Those were the same eyes Dimitri had when he killed his step-sister. That's the gaze of a feral animal. You're part of my familia, Tighnari– I'm not letting another fratello of mine lose himself to greedy impulse."

"What if–"

"No."

You spoke dangerously low in the tone Tighnari hears when you interrogate those who were chained in your basement. This was not the voice you used to talk to your men. This (Y/n) was not just commanding– this Capo was daunting and domineering. And he would loathe being at the receiving end of your torturous whip and fingers.

Suddenly, Tighnari had an epiphany.

Before he could save a kind friend, the professor would have to save a cold-blooded murderer first.

"Alright. Fine then. If you don't want to be the patient who'll help me get a Nobel Prize then have it your way." Tighnari joked, but his mind was made up.

He won't do as you commanded.

"But don't think I'll stop studying mosses. The world doesn't revolve around you, Capo, I still have many to save."

And just like that, he retired for the night.

Once upon a time, these half-asleep conversations were routinely done in order to check up on one another. A Capo is the busiest person one could be in Snezhnaya, and it warmed his heart to know you allot some time for his mundane conversations. But these heartfelt gestures are now mere ashes behind Tighnari.

Never to return.

—----

[Morning, 1 AM:]

The Fatui Headquarters is a daunting place.

Filled to the brim with murderous sociopaths, no sane man would act juvenile amongst your crowd. This room never fails to make you feel small. Everyone, from 2nd to 10th, showed up dressed to the nines with capes and fur, which was slightly less grand than the funeral clothes everyone wore for La Signora. Their extravagant yet sensible winter attire contrasts sharply with your unimpressive standard Prussian-blue coat in the sea of whites and blacks.

"Can't believe you showed up."

You turned to face the front. Scaramouche, in his custom-made Kasa hat, sat on the opposite end and sneered with disdain.

This gremlin never took a shine to you. The feeling is mutual. Whenever he utters a nasty word, the impulse to clothesline him to the nearest tree arises.

"It's not a habit of mine to miss meetings, it's not gonna change now no matter your wishes, Scaramouche."

"You dare use that tone against me? Remember who you are talking to, number eight."

As the 8th Capo– higher only for Tartaglia (10th) and the 9th– you were looked down on by the rest of the Harbingers. Had the 1st rank not been filled by a fellow Khaenri'ahn, Archons know how mistreated you would've been.

"I have a firm grasp of my identity. Never have I shared your indecisiveness, number six." You spat. "What about you? Have you decided on whether or not you're human yet?"

Everyone knows that Scaramouche may not even be human, but no one would open that can of worms other than you.

He crossed his arms.

"Maybe after you figure out whose fault it was that your men died, you… or that fox?"

"SHHH!!!" Tartaglia shook his pointer finger near his lips. When he noticed you staring, he donned his best brotherly smile. "H-Hey (Y/n), what do you think about the rising inflation in Mondstadt City?"

Tartaglia actively avoided talks about the Innamorati Arson Incident. It's been days and he has not once brought it up. You recalled how when you first visited his manor, he asked about your experience in the church of Sumeru– and it was solely focused on what happened AFTER the incident.

… Now that you think about it, he probably made those stupid jokes about Alhaitham that day because he didn't want you to look so grim.

"More problems with their funds, considering how most of it is all gone." The shorter man managed to still find a quip along the way. "Honestly, why are they even here? Shouldn't they go back to selling matchsticks by now?"

You visibly stiffened.

"Shut it, Scaramouche." Arlecchino interjected with a sympathetic yet mildly condescending outlook. "They're still a Capo through and through, even if they're past their prime."

Prime.

That's how they referred to the Dottore who had never taken a dose of canned knowledge. The youthful and composed Dottore you were once friends with.

You've always dealt with the very murky morality of your line of work by contrasting the transgressions of your coworkers. At least you went through rehab and detox when you were hooked on heroin. Meanwhile, he hasn't done anything other than feed his addiction. Truly, Zandik is fortunate to receive a wage that exceeds his necessities.

You and a monster like him are not so different, not anymore. He is no longer human; instead, he is a corpse that runs back home covered in more scrapes than on his previous visit. As for you? Well…

Batting your eyes, you scoffed breathlessly. Are you really past your prime? Words failed to come up when you tried thinking of a retort, and perhaps that was for the best.

Finally, the man of the hour entered the room.

Like many Khaenri'ahn kids, you formerly held Pierro in high regard. He was the gleam of hope that even impoverished and orphaned immigrants might change the tides, even if it was in a world other than their home country. For most, he's the one who would nod his head upward. Pierro, the first Khaenri'ahn Capo, was the hero in the eyes of your younger self who lived off thanks to the table scraps of your even younger foster siblings. Tsaritsa knows you fumbled on your first meeting, and you were proud that was the only time you embarrassed yourself in front of him.

Considering how things are now, it certainly wasn't the case.

Pierro took a proud stance and showed no remorse for what had happened to you. His gaze veered in your direction. At that very moment, if you had been blinking, you would have missed the disappointed expression on his face. He promptly rotated the whiteboard after removing his sheets from his folders.

You stood up. "Lord Pier–"

"Let's start."

You sat back down again.

The entire meeting was a blur. You felt like you weren't there the entire time. Arlecchino eagerly chatted about her child soldiers whilst the other occasionally quipped a word or two. When her turn was done, it was Scaramouche, then Capitano, then Tartaglia– not once had the bottle turned to face you. The reason behind that is simple:

Pierro did not plan to call you, Number 8th, during any of his discussions.

—---

The meeting was adjourned, but far from over. Just as you were about to head to the cathedral, a lithe hand pulled your coat sleeve, stopping you from reaching the front gates.

You sighed, looking at their perfect doll-like fingers, there's no one else it could be other than…

"Shylock businesses aren't my style– ask Tartaglia instead."

"You know damn well that's not what I'm gonna ask, Brighella?"

"Then what is it, Kunikuzushi?"

He flushed red at your venomous retort.

Neither of you liked those names– unlike you, who dislike your Harbinger title purely because it sounds stupid– Scaramouche doesn't like hearing his baptismal name out of family reasons. Guess who's the more insecure one between the both of you.

"Are… Are you al– tch. Forget it." He paused before he scoffed and pointed his finger accusingly. Scaramouche grumbled. "I invested a lot of money in your casino project, so there better be some results!"

You nodded, barely paying attention to his tirades. His infantile behavior was never endearing to you; you either find it repulsive or boring. With the weighing pressure on your mental state, you were quick to chuck his new burlesque anger as mind-numbingly monotonous this time.

"Sure."

"Sure? Sure what, worm?"

"The Casino is not affected– the men who handled it are all alive. Zero casualties."

Unless you count Dimitri who used to manage the Casino in his spare time.

"That's good to hear." Surprisingly, he sounded genuinely relieved for what felt like their safety rather than financial compensation.

"Agreed. Are we done here?"

His grip on your sleeve tightened.

"One final thing." Scaramouche leaned closer. "Use caution. Tighnari had likely received divine favors."

"Maybe you're stupid or you just don't care, but my devotion to Gnosticism is just a front. I appreciate your concern, though."

"I wasn't concerned. Just can't have my idiotic colleague underestimate what the divine can do." He smirked. "Can't have you burning another property you don't deserve."

You yanked your sleeve away.

Heartless puppet.

"Goodbye, Balladeer."

—----

[Morning, 3 AM:]

With Felix trailing behind you (Alhaitham was in his Akademiya job), you both entered the church searching for Sister Rosaria.

The stained glass of the church had recently been updated. No one was surprised when disciples started taking away any hydro-related emblems from all northern churches. Even if those pieces of art are incredibly captivating, the fascists had already started utilizing them as a sign of movement, thus they are deemed not worth saving for future generations.

"Since when did they begin removing those things?"

"Since yesterday," Felix said with bags under his eyes. It's clear to you that he genuinely didn't want to be here. "Under Architect Kaveh's orders."

"I see. Go get some rest, Felix. There are surely some empty rooms in the convent."

"Thank you, Capo."

You let him leave.

Should you die today, you've already written a will that Felix will be the one to inherit your position. You'll let him have his quite-possibly-last good sleep before the Capo life keeps him busy.

You stared back at the glass.

In a way, architect Kaveh was similar to Alhaitham in that you were familiar with their names but not their faces. Even though he is consistently the first to offer to assist you with construction, this man always finds a way to decline your requests for an audience. The last time it was because he caught boar fever (how? ), but that was nothing compared to the time he wrote you a disorganized handwritten letter about how an Akademiyan spy sabotaged his clothes after breaking into his home and harassing him to gain confidential information.

... At least he has extraordinary talent. You can excuse any eccentric traits as long as a person's value outweighs the costs. That is the same reasoning you employed when you hired Alhaitham.

"(Y/n), is it true that you're going to find Tighnari?"

That voice couldn't be anyone else but your little fratella.

You were about to answer with a firm "yes", but when you turned around you felt a pang of guilt seeing how troubled she looked. Her hands gripped the hem of her dress in a suffocating hold and her eyebrows were knitted together.

"In Sumeru City? Of all places?" Barbara scurried and hugged your arm.

"Don't go. Please."

[CHOSE: REASSURE BARBARA]

"Mia sorella, don't worry…" you cooed and soothingly lowered your gaze before bluffing. "Sumeru City's a lot safer nowadays. Alhaitham told me so."

[DID NOT CHOOSE: SAY "GOODBYE"]

[FAILED TO UNLOCK CHANCE FOR SECRET ROUTE: "MUSICIAN VENTI"]

"No…" Barbara stiffened and tore herself away. She clenched her fist, but everything else about her was calm and resolved.

Barbara looks exactly like you when she's mad. She mimicked your traits so perfectly.

"No. You're lying. I heard Sister Rosaria talk to Inquisitor Cyno– it's not safe there."

"Barbara…" You traced your thumbs against her cheek. Her heartfelt display of anger almost successfully beseech you to reconsider. She slapped your hand away, but you kept talking. "I have to go."

“No. No, you don't– don’t be prideful! At least bring some of your men with you.” Barbara argued.

You can’t. Some are stationed to help with church work while others are with Visconti Diluc. You purposely made them preoccupied so that they won’t put themselves in danger (like you.) Besides Tartaglia, there’s no other Capo who loves their people more than you– and perhaps this overprotective nature will be your cause of death, but so be it.

“Sister Rosaria will tag along. I'll be back soon– like I always do." You scooted closer to her, bending your knees a bit. With an unnoticeably forced chuckle, you shook her slightly. "C'mon, it's me, your very cool older Capo sibling. Don't you have faith in me?"

"I-I…"

There are two things that can convince a pure-minded individual like her who has been sheltered from harm: a prayer and a cheerful smile.

"If you're worried about me, why don't you pray for my safe return?"

And you know damn those are the only thing that helps Barbara keep moving forward– the two things that help keep her sanity intact or else she'll break down. Religion is her sole solace. Despite living in poverty, she wouldn't sin. She's "used to hunger", that's just the type of person she was. Without prayers and smiles, nothing can help Barbara forget how her real biological sister left her in this chapel.

"Can you do that for me, sorella?"

Barbara paused.

Snezhnayan men are the most religious. The people of Mondstadt nor Sumeru couldn't possibly compare with how Snezhnaya rears their impressionable children. Barbara was raised in this chapel and Snezhnayan culture ran deep in her veins.

“F-Fine.” Barbara sighed. “I’ll pray for you.”

You ruffled her hair.

“Grazie, sorella.”

—----

After reassuring Barbara that you will be safe and praying to an archon you don’t believe in, you slithered behind the church.

"You watched everything earlier, I presume?"

Inquisitor Cyno didn’t move a muscle from his position. He was leaning by the wall, staring at the church cemetery. Still, he cracked up a small yet wholesome smile. He seemed pleased by your response.

[AFFECTION METER: 39.05%]

"It's in my job description."

You smiled sweetly. "Forgive my sins, Inquisitor, I forgot you were a professional stalker."

"Not stalking; I'm monitoring you."

"What's the difference?"

"Stalking has a more sinister connotation."

"Oh, then forgive me, your holiness." You theatrically bowed.

Cyno nodded. "You are forgiven."

You laughed loudly.

The inquisitor innocently raised his eyebrow and tilted his head. His pup-like demeanor shut you up. Apparently, that response wasn't a joke. Ex-priest Cyno wholeheartedly forgave you in a religious fashion.

Why is he only hilarious when he's not trying to be?

You cleared your throat. "My apologies, I suddenly remembered a joke, that's all."

"Would you mind sharing?" Cyno asked. "I want to find new comedy material. My previous jokes didn't seem to work."

You were about to cut it straight that he's the joke but ultimately decided to keep your mouth shut. 'You mean 'ALL your jokes don't seem to work.'' is what you wanted to say, but kindness is not the absence of mean-spiritedness. It is when you are restricting such actions.

“I don’t think you’d find it funny.”

“Is it an inside joke?”

How very kind of him to offer you a way out of this one.

“Something like that.”

“Then I won’t ask.” The Inquisitor nodded. "But there’s something else I want to request. Won’t you allow me to join you–"

"No."

[CHOSE: DO NOT INVITE INQUISITOR CYNO]

[AFFECTION METER: 25.00%]

Cyno paused.

You cannot allow him to join. Since you observed how the inquisitor and your new underboss interacted, you had a feeling that Cyno's presence would cause more issues than they would solve. He knew Tighnari well. He might even kill him before you do if he is provoked. Besides, it's not as though any sane man would hold an Inquisitor captive if given the chance; that would be like trying to wrestle an alligator to scare a dog.

Plus, you want to exploit Cyno and Tighnari's previous friendship against him. The safest course of action is to bluff and say you'll kill Cyno should that bastard try anything funny.

“Why not?”

“I hate to impose or be more indebted to you, Inquisitor. My conscience will not allow it.”

Cyno frowned.

“You shouldn’t be afraid to rely on others, Capo.”

“How very strange that I’ll hear that coming from you,” You said. “I know it is not my place to say this, but I’ve done my research and found out that you fulfill your duties alone. Candace kindly told me that you’ve always been a lone wolf, so I can’t say I’m persuaded by your advice.”

“Hmm. Understandable.” That’s all he could say. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

You held his hand. He flinched, both shoulders tensed up like a shocked cat.

Your hands weren’t warm. They were cold. But as a desert dweller his hands oddly fit well with yours– a perfect balance. Unlike you, however, he had never used these hands to do evil. The Inquisitor silently wondered how would it feel like if these fingers wrung his neck–

Cyno closed his eyes.

He cannot think of such sinful thoughts.

“Please relax, Inquisitor.” You spoke, circling the back of his palm. “I know what I’m doing.”

Should those words be the whole truth, then you must know unsavory your actions must be behind the pretense of kindness.

You debaucher.

“Do you now…”

You grinned.

That effectively made his heart skip a beat.

Cyno doubts you somehow knew about your hold on him.

“Hmm!”

“Fine. Then I’ll let you be.”

—----

He shouldn’t do this.

He’s worried. The Inquisitor did work with the spy before–

But Cyno doesn’t trust Alhaitham.

Cyno handed the disciple a dagger.

Alhaitham is calculating and most of all selfish. This was the man who actively disobeyed the church’s teachings unapologetically. Perhaps such behavior is cultured in the Akademiya but Cyno cannot stand it.

Maybe that's why he tried stopping himself first, but after that fire…

Cyno's overprotective nature worsened.

He convinced himself that this feeling was a product of his past losses and argues that this is just a precaution. The Goddess has given him a second person to watch over. A second Usir. A new blessing to make up for his past transgressions.

And he will not waste this second chance.

"Take this. And do not forget my orders."

—---

[Morning, 4 AM]

Towering dome buildings, abundance of trees yet eerily silent streets– Sumeru City was not a tourist spot for amusement.

Considering these facts, Dunyarzard, in all her former glory, still built a large theater underground called The Zubayr Theater. She had the intention of making the city a more joyous location with her contributions, and it's sad to see that it had done little to brighten up its citizens. Then again, Dunyarzard probably won’t be bothered by this if she lived longer.

You would know this because she was once your friend too.

Dunyarzard...

It’s a shame an invasive fox is hiding inside her paradise-on-earth.

That, and a troublesome dog too.

You glanced at Alhaitham. He behaved strangely the entire time, glancing at his watch as if he were counting his seconds down. Soon enough, he walked closer and tapped your shoulder.

"(N/n)."

Assuming this is about the akasha terminal he let you borrow, you let him talk. "Go on, speak."

[AFFECTION METER: 28.00%]

"Tuqburni."

"… what?"

"Means you bury me in Sumeru," Alhaitham said, looking away sheepishly. "I decided it'd be best if you heard it again, even if Cyno isn’t here."

Is he trying to imply that an Inquisitor would care enough to kill him? Please. He’s an insignificant cog in the grand scheme of things. If he’s so sure you’ll lead him to his death then he should just quit. Go back to being an Akademiyan spy, it’s not that hard.

"Good to know." You'll forget about that word in ten minutes, tops.

He pursed his lips, troubled. "You don't remember what Tuqburni means?"

"Can't remember something I never learned."

Alhaitham frowned.

"I see…"

Sister Rosaria swerved her way between you two before pushing Alhaitham away with little force. "Take a hike. We don't have time to entertain you, underboss."

His nose scrunched. "Sister Rosaria, age 25. Weight 80kg, height 5'9, address–"

"Yeah, no shit I know where I live, so what?" The nun retorted. "Think you can take me on with your calculator, kid?"

You snorted.

"I'm not trying to intimidate you," Alhaitham spoke. "I'm letting you know that–"

"Whatever." Rosaria clicked her tongue. "Capo, what're your orders?"

Thank the Tsaritsa that Rosaria is here.

“We’ll split.” You pointed at the theater. “There are three main sections in Zabayr.”

You handed Rosaria a map. Alhaitham didn’t ask for a copy– he presumed that you already trust that he knew the location with the help of new technology. Instead, it was Rosaria who had a follow-up question.

“Where’s your copy, Capo?”

“They don’t need one,” Alhaitham answered. “They were here when the place was built– they helped Lady Dunyarzard build her dream theater.”

“I didn’t issue any orders for you to speak.” You glared. “Know where you stand, underboss.”

You cleared your throat. "As I was saying, we'll split up. I'll scout the theater, Rosaria outside the buildings, and you're on the apex building. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Of course."

—----

Despite saying "of course" confidently, Alhaitham found himself in a small library.

This was likely NOT the place you ordered him to find, but the wealth of information stored around here was relevant to your investigation. Why? Because these were records haphazardly left by the fascists.

Their intel was right. The theater was one of their headquarters.

"These runes…" His eyebrows furrowed. “‘A tool that can only be used if the wielder upholds absolute justice above all else and would sacrifice the means for a satisfactory end.’ None of these descriptors match the Akademiya’s records at all, except...”

Alhaitham's eyes widened.

This specific piece of information corroborates how Tighnari behaved thus far.

"However, if the Archons live with us and not Celestia then isn't it possible that Focalor is–"

His fingernails dug into the papyrus while his eyes frantically skimmed through its contents. If the contents of this papyrus were true, then what the hell was that collaboration between La Signora and the Adepti about? What the hell did they exchange?

Alhaitham heard the sound of breathing.

He turned around and turned on his terminal, hoping to reach you before the assailant stops him.

"(N/n), be careful! Whatever Tighnari's holding, that's a gn–"

[SHUTTING DOWN…]

—---

The Akasha Terminal buzzed, the signal muffling its voice. You surmise that this was caused by the theater's layout. The architect of the Zubayr Theater– which is funny enough, still Kaveh– specifically chose this location for its lack of noise. That being said, it would be nice to watch an actual play here now that Alhaitham wouldn't bother you with his senseless blather. Pity that no one's performing.

"… B… c…ful! Wh….. na… ri…ho…."

"T…s … ...sis!"

You shook your head and nonchalantly thought out loud.

"The terminal must be acting up."

There's no one there to accompany you in your confrontation with Tighnari should you encounter him, and you preferred it this way.

You opened the door to the main stage.

And you finally found him.

You spotted the back of his silhouette lingering on the theater’s second floor. Props were crushed and some built-in chairs were knocked over. Whoever wreaked havoc around Dunyarzard’s theater had to pay– but that isn’t your main priority. Your target is already right here.

The professor no longer wore his cotton dark caramel coat– instead, he replaced it with a blander yet bolder black one that made his figure look larger. His eyes were vacant, looking forward as if a person would warp from near the ceiling. The bastard appeared to be waiting for someone.

Someone that isn’t you.

"Hello, professor."

A chill shot down his spine as his eyes met yours. Tighnari looked down, seeing you stare at him with a small smile. There was malice behind your peaceful expression. He made indescribable noises when he took a step back. No one else was in the vicinity except for the two of you, but his thoughts screamed that there was nowhere else to run. Tighnari knew that look was nothing he had ever seen before– a look of pity and anger reserved only for a dead man walking.

He sensed bloodlust, and it was consumingly relentless.

"It's been a while. Mind if I bother you outside office hours?"

Tighnari's hands were trembling but the rest of his limbs were frozen. He couldn't completely deny the possibility that he could die at this very moment. After all, he had seen your agility wipe out an entire floor of men with two dull daggers. If that was lazily done to protect him, he can only imagine the full extent of your abilities. On the bright side, at least you were below him and he could sprint somewhere– he just didn’t know where that is.

When you go on a hunt, you don’t stop until you catch your prey.

The professor knows that damn well.

"N-No," Tighnari answered with false confidence. "No, I don't."

"Can I ask a few questions, then?"

Your way of speaking contradicts whatever thoughts you both had in mind. Your voice inflection bounced off lightly, but the air shifted as soon as you traced your holster.

He didn't reply, and you took that as a yes.

[FREE TALK EVENT: START]

[READER REPLIES MARKED IN RED]

"Why."

It came out more like a general statement than a question, so you repeated it with added conviction. You're not a static force. You're here because you willed it– you're here to satisfy your demands. Your lust for revenge.

"Why did you do it? Why did you burn my manor?"

Like a grim reaper appeasing their curiosity, you spoke calmly while simultaneously patronizing his inconsequential life.

Tighnari bit his lip. "You already know why–"

"But I need the confirmation, the closure. Any reason to make your death tenfold more satisfying."

"I did it so that you'd get your cure."

Your eyes squinted.

Of course he did. You don't doubt him. You've known his obsession with Eleazar and how he rightfully suspected that you're burdened by this illness.

But he took the whole truth and poured some out.

"That still doesn’t make sense, Professor Tighnari."

He took a sharp yet deep breath. Tighnari's treading on thin ice. He was scared not just for his life. He was scared that this would be his final moment when he had yet to give you what you needed.

"I had to–"

"Surely the cure for Eleazar doesn't involve mass murder."

You were remarkably calm. As opposed to your uncharacteristically feral actions during the previous few days, this argument was entirely typical of you. Strategic and reserved, but ready to unleash everything in a single strike.

"I…" Tighnari bit his cheek. He sighed exasperatedly. "Just. Just trust me for once, Capo–"

"Don't call me that." You tensed up. "You lost the right to call me Capo the moment you betrayed your familia. How can I trust you when I don't forgive you? Why trouble yourself so much when you can rip my head off my shoulders right now? I'm just another body between you and your precious cure, correct?"

He almost didn't notice how you threw a dagger mid-talk like pelting a mere pebble. Tighnari dodged it, albeit barely, and you calculated as much. You won't let him die until he hears everything.

You spat lowly. "You snuffed the lives out of the only people that mattered to me."

"Please don't be mad. I had to–" Tighnari spilled. "I had to or else Focalor wouldn't help me."

"How the fuck can I not be mad? You're a fox, I'm sure you can smell the hatred I have for you. Your olfactory system is sensitive, after all." You masterfully kept your voice calm despite the severity of your words.

"Your associates are such idiotic bastards then if they have to kill my men for a cure." Your eyebrows furrowed. "Where is it? Where the fuck is the correlation, Professor?"

"It's to prove my loyalt–"

"The only thing you've proven is that you're a piece of shit. Is this what fascism is about? I can't see why you'd ever want to be one."

Tighnari looked down and muttered something you didn't hear.

"Who said I wanted this to happen?"

You continued. "I know I was only spared because I was in the chapel– so take out your gun so we can settle this already."

You fired a warning shot, this time with a bullet and not a dagger, burying another close call between his tall ears.

There were so many things to worry about, but Tighnari relied on hopeless dialogue. It's the only tool he has left to de-escalate the situation.

Unfortunately for him, you're better with words.

"I don't want to kill you."

"Teppei."

"... What?"

"Lyudochka, Kazari, Bao'er, Viktor… " You cocked your gun. "Lindhart. Did you regret killing them?"

"Capo, I know what you're trying to do."

"You should or else we'd both look stupid."

"But saying their names won't change my mind. I've already decided that they're replaceable as friends."

Replaceable?!

"You bastardo–"

You fired a second shot– it missed. With a bit of spite, you aimed higher knowing that he'd evade. You didn't repeat the same mistake.

He ducked behind the second-floor barrier.

But didn't take its spiral pillar designs into account, and the gaps were exactly where you aimed at.

"GAH–"

His guttural scream echoed across the theater.

You shot him in the leg.

Whoever designed that barrier had great tastes– you'll thank the architect for this later.

It'd be so easy to just kill him now.

"Your fur will look better draped around my shoulders, Vulpes." You aimed with Tartaglia's revolver. "It's winter, is it not? Don't worry, I'll put it to good use."

The most significant thing he would do with his life is dying.

Lucky for him, you can’t grant him that just yet.

You still have hope.

You still believe that there’s a way to get rid of Eleazar.

And as much as you hate it, you also believe in Tighnari.

Rather, you believe in his abilities and nothing more.

With the "goodness" in your heart, you’ll let him finish what he started.

"But I’ll suffer through the winter for now. That cure is the only thing keeping you alive. The day you finish your research will be the day I finish you. After that, I’ll make sure to kill every last person you hold dear."

Tighnari huffed self-deprecatingly, clinging onto his wounded leg by the theater's second floor. gazing at you with a melancholic stare. "Jokes on you (Y/n), there's no one else but y–"

"Cyno. Collei."

His eyes widened.

You smirked jadedly. "I had Inquisitor Cyno keep her in our custody. Did you know that pain is heightened ten times more for those of us suffering from Eleazar?"

You traced your old battle scars. They were all healed, but their numbers will keep multiplying.

Each time you pinch, no matter how dated these may be, it's as painful as yesterday's wounds. Nothing prepared you when you were diagnosed with Eleazar. Each wound, each papercut– the pain clings onto you like a leech that can never be scrubbed out, or else it'll cling tighter.

"It's excruciating. That's why I was addicted to heroin– it numbs everything. Have you heard? Children are more vulnerable when it comes to drug addiction–"

"Don't." He faltered, lowering his gun. "Please. Don't touch them."

Bullseye.

Them. He used the word “them” instead of “her.” Despite Cyno’s impression, the fox still cares about him.

Maybe you should’ve invited Cyno to tag along.

You tilted the revolver sideways.

You want him to inflict even more pain.

If Cyno were here, you would’ve made sure he said all the wrong things and watched Tighnari squirm. After all, you do have the uncanny ability to get people to behave in the way you want them to, don’t you?

"Then parry this."

But you didn’t pull the trigger.

Surprisingly, Tighnari bravely climbed up and hung his leg by the barrier, making him more susceptible if you attacked. You can’t tell if you hesitated or you’re curious as to what he’s trying to accomplish– the second floor was meters high above your station– he’ll surely die if he jumped.

Sister Rosaria emerged from your peripheral vision, ragged and stripped of breath. It's a long way from the main theater to the bazaar– she ran when she heard your argument as soon as possible.

Tighnari fished something out of his pocket.

A blue light shimmered in what appeared to be a chess bishop.

… What kind of trick is this?

"Tighnari, what the hell are you holding?" Your nose scrunched, squinting at the small piece. You could've sworn you've seen that symbol somewhere– in large glass-stained imageries.

"Can't you see?" Tighnari croaked, angrily crying out in a desperate attempt to make deaf men such as yourself hear. "Focalor is the Hydro Archon– there's no better healer than her if you would just allow us to help you find a cure."

His eyes… Whatever it is you’ve said, it had its impact.

Tighnari lost his mind.

Sister Rosaria's breath hitched. Fortunately for both of you, she understood the situation.

"CAPO, GET BEHIND ME–"

"This is the Hydro Archon's gnosis," Tighnari yelled. "I'll prove to you– I'll show you that all those sacrifices were worth every drop of blood I had to spill. Maybe I haven't figured out how to heal with it now but destroying things has always been easier than fixing them!"

Gnosis?

What the fuck is he talking about?

Like the 7 gnosis the Tsaritsa collected?

That bedtime story?

"Fox, where on earth did you get that?!" Sister Rosaria pushed you near the exit door, mediating the argument. "Where did you steal that divine artifact?!"

"Dear sister…" Tighnari chuckled darkly.

"If there's a will, there's a way."

He raised the chess piece to the sky.

"I'm sorry Capo– but this I swear: I never betrayed you." He spoke softly while his ears lowered. "Open your eyes– everything I do is all for your health and wellbeing. This little thing right here is worth more than your men. Easier to do things first before apologizing later, that's what you told me last time, right?"

"Fuck off." You didn't take a step forward. In this instance, Rosaria would handle this better than you could. "Take a swim in the river Cocytus for all I care– but don't you fucking dare dedicate that slaughter under my name."

[FREE TALK EVENT: END]

Tighnari grinned emptily.

[AFFECTION METER: ERROR.]

[AKASHA TERMINAL STATUS: DISABLED]

“I’ll never know.” He spoke softly. “I’ll never know why I like you so much. At this rate, I’m too afraid to find out.”

His hold on the “gnosis” tightened.

The bishop piece beamed.

“Farewell, my Capo.”

—-----

[6 years ago]

Alhaitham lived a monotonous life.

The same old nine-to-five schedule: wash up, dress up, eat, work, eat, sleep, and repeat the following day. When compared to his former self, he had a professional short haircut and was dressed in white dress shirts that were buttoned up. Alhaitham has the appearance of a plastic toy. Too typical and bland. Nothing exuded uniqueness.

He thought he got what he wanted. Alhaitham graduated and became an accountant, just like what he aimed for for years. As a child, he grew up under the misconception that he had something special. Alhaitham was the boy every parent preached about when their lackluster children produced little results. Maybe he was the smart kid everyone loathed– but his repertoire was genuine. The world handed him an easy-to-follow script, and he mindlessly fulfilled it with his innate abilities.

But for goodness' sake, if this is what success is, then why is it so empty?

His purpose in living had turned into nothing more than a bank's problem fixer until he returns to doing what he loved most:

Nothing.

What the hell is life boring him for?

"Tired of life, tesoro?"

Alhaitham looked up.

He saw an underdressed person wearing a white tattered shirt and lousily safety-pinned flip-flops. Had they worn white instead, they would be easily mistaken as a hospital escapee.

More specifically, they looked like they just got out of the heroin rehabilitation center just a few blocks down the street.

Alhaitham didn't send them away. They had a sparkle in their eyes, something that he lacked nowadays. However, there's something about it that made it more noteworthy compared to civilians around here.

Those pupils are (e/c) Khaenri'ahn eyes.

A natural trait, but its presence alludes to artificial happiness in the same manner endomorphs appear friendly and kind. No matter how lifeless a Khaenri'ahn may be, the gem in their eyes will always make them look more alive than the rest of the world.

They covered their mouth.

"Oh, pardon. I can't help but ask. You're rather down and I thought you needed a distraction..."

They didn't seem all that sorry when they immediately sat down beside him after that apology.

"Incorrect." He bluffed. "What makes you assume that?"

They smiled.

"I dare say you look like you've achieved everything you thought you wanted in life, but you're still feeling empty inside, aren't you?"

Alhaitham's head snapped back in their direction.

"What do you mean?"

"You work for the Banco Di Snezhnaya, around age 23, have a wage of 500 thousand mora per week," they chuckled, gesturing at his hair. "Aaand you probably don't own a hair dryer."

Stalkerish-ly spot on.

"How did you–" He clicked his tongue, disappointed at himself for becoming immersed in parlor tricks. "Nevermind. I'm not buying into whatever astrology thingamajig you're selling."

"Oh please, the only thing I'm selling are matchsticks. Hair dryers ain't astrology, ya dumbass, they're a new Fontaine invention." They huffed. "If my matchsticks could tell the future I would've achieved my dreams by now."

Alhaitham still can't phantom why, but he's oddly intrigued by whatever came out of their mouth.

"And your dreams are?"

"I want to become a journalist." They said, softly knocking their chest with a closed fist. "Future Teyvat Times journalist. The best of the best."

"Unlikely." Alhaitham muffled his laughter. Unlike most people, he can regulate his emotions masterfully well. "Someone like you who obviously achieved no real education? Give up on that dream while you're still ahead."

"Yikes. Already sizing up my intellectual capacity? That's rude."

"I'll see your dreams if it happens." He continued. "But it's my turn to guess things about you– you're a heroin addict who just got out of rehab and now you're stuck doing community service by selling matchsticks. Not only are you uneducated, but you also have a drug record so say goodbye to any stable employment."

They smirked. They were right– he's not the type to hold his tongue. That just makes him a better conversationalist.

"Close, but no dice." They snapped their fingers, pretending to be saddened by his faulty inference. "EX-heroin addict. I got out of rehab a year ago and I'm not selling matchsticks because of community service– that sure sounds better than the actual truth, though."

He'd rather they communicate properly with little subtext and implications. Alhaitham sighed. "Alright, fine. I'm hooked, what's the truth?"

"Don't tell me you can't tell." They raised an eyebrow before they pried their left eye open, showing off their unique pupil. "I'm an immigrant, so of course finding a job is as easy as becoming the seventh archon, ragazzo."

Their butchering of the Snezhnayan language further cemented that they're not from here.

"I didn't get any quote-unquote "real" education, but living on the streets? You'd be caught dead if you're not skilled at inferences." They said grimly, but the smile on their face never left. "That's why I know how to spot a person easily. I know a guilty murderer when I see one, and I know an unsatisfied man once I look down on him sulking by the fountain."

"Right. I forgot you're Khaenri'ahn." Alhaitham muttered.

"Well, then you must be the first person to do so. That's literally what everyone points out after looking at my eyes. Congratulations." They snickered.

"Why am I even talking to someone as arrogant as you?"

"I may be arrogant, but you're a lot happier now that I'm here, aren't you?"

Alhaitham froze.

"See? I'm pretty good at swaying people into behaving the way I want them to."

"What's your goal exactly?" Alhaitham pulled out his wallet. "Need me to buy a pack of cigars? I'm not funding your addiction."

He said that but he already took out 150 bills.

"Nah. That sounds great though but I was just trying to practice my conversation skills." They sheepishly told him. "I want to practice speaking Snezhnayan, and also cause I want to seem friendly."

"'Seem' friendly?"

They laughed. "Well, we all have secrets, don't we? There's something powerful about being charismatic yet setting boundaries all the same. Master both and you might just get somewhere."

"I'll keep that in mind," Alhaitham grunted.

"We've been talking for a while now– I'm (N/n), and yours?"

"That's…"

Alhaitham subconsciously glanced around.

Morepesok was not one of Teyvat's safest plazas. And they look Khaenri'ahn in the worst place possible, not that anyone besides him would appreciate that. Drugs are prevalent but it's not the only social cancer in the plaza. Petty thievery, human trafficking, money laundering, the list is bottomless and in no small thanks to the syndicates. Immigrants especially get a bad rep around here as either helpless victims or eager puppets, so forgive him for exercising caution based on generalizations.

They cringed. "Ah, right. Don't worry– no need to spill your real name, just give me something I can call you."

He paused.

"... Deshret."

"Well, well, nice to meet you Deshret. Is that from The Scarlet King's Court Jester?"

"Nevermind. Let's just change it to–"

"No no no! It's perfect." They said. "Very underrated bedtime story. The kids loved it… even though it was pretty dark and abusive."

"Many say it's a real tale."

"Do you believe that?"

It was also his favorite story as a child.

"Yes."

"Heh. I don't, but I don't want to make little Kaeya cry." They laughed. "As you can probably tell, I'm Khaenri'ahn, and we just don't have all these strange cultural beliefs you people have…"

They gazed down his thighs.

"Hey Deshret, isn't sitting with your legs together uncomfortable? Go on, cross your legs, or whatever. I don't mind."

Alhaitham raised an eyebrow before he slowly did what he was told. It's been a while since he sat this way. He trained himself to stop since it wasn't appropriate in the office, and somehow he forgot he could still do it outside work.

He relaxed. The change in posture was effective.

"... You're creepily perceptive."

"As I said, gotta be more observant." They chuckled. "Being liked is key to survival–"

Out of the blue, a loud metallic thud reverberated around the plaza. The both of them flinched at the sound and everyone turned their heads to its source.

"Hey, isn't that Adepti Underboss, Xiao?" They whispered.

The Adepti were incredibly busy that year. By June, a rat published a book entitled "Rex Incognito" where they detailed and provided evidence that Morax is the Geo Archon himself, which makes the piece both heretical AND entertaining.

The man, whom they both assumed was underboss Xiao, tossed a man upward till they landed on the roof of a nearby car. With his lithe yet muscular form, he swiftly disposed of a 70kg policeman like a garbage bag. No one moved a muscle in their direction. Not a single person showed empathy for the nose-bleeding cop in the middle of the plaza. The civilians pitied the car owner and not the injured man. Only children shrieked at the sound. For the rest? Just another Wednesday garbage cleanup.

There's no semblance of justice in Teyvat that remains in broad daylight.

Alhaitham closed his eyes, disappointed.

"Pathetic how the tri-mafia overpowers the military police in every way. The police are useless."

"Yeah man, fuck the system."

"Fuck the system indeed." Alhaitham nodded solemnly. They nearly laughed at how strangely innocent the word 'fuck' sounds coming from him.

"Wanna know what we should do?"

"I genuinely don't."

"Let's join the mafia together."

Alhaitham snorted. It's funny how he considered himself a pro at regulating his emotions moments prior because now he couldn't hold back the cute little chuckles that betrayed his lips. His shoulders trembled as well as his hands while he composed himself.

That was the stupidest idea he had ever heard.

"W-What?" They asked mid-laughter as well, clearly not considering their own enthusiastic suggestion. "Don't think we can overthrow the government together? Tsk, tsk."

They look positively malnourished. Alhaitham would bet on the chance that they'd achieve their dream journalist career rather than a stable life as a future mafioso.

Then again, Alhaitham looked very straight-laced and put-together before he joined Akademiya.

"Ah yes, an accountant and a matchstick vendor joining the mafia together; one of them might even become the next leader. Find out next time in chapter 3."

"Coglione, I'm the one who's going to be a journalist here, not you."

"Not with that awful pronunciation you're not."

They frowned. "You Teyvatans are so strict with your stupid lingua francas."

"But still, it's not a bad idea, isn't it? Let's meet each other again after we join the mafia." They nudged his side. "Same time, same place. C'mon, it'd be funny if the next time we meet you'd be holding your head thinking that there's too much excitement in your life now."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes before he looked down at his watch.

"At 6 in the morning?" He looked rather amused for someone who claimed to be uninterested.

They bantered back with the same vigor. "6 AM sharp of course, tesoro."

Alhaitham chuckled.

They laughed along with him.

"Heh. Anyways, say, what's it like being an accountant?"

"Well…"

Since then, the two of them began meeting weekly as Deshret and (N/n). They've used their morning hours as an excuse to get drunk in the crack of dawn. Both have forgotten what the true purpose of that time was,

But it's not as if they'd both remember that joke, right?

—---

Well, if that's true, then Alhaitham doesn't know what the fuck he's doing.

Something about that small conversation rekindled a fire in him– a torch he had never once touched for he saw no need for it. But after seeing how empty those cubicles were– how mechanical the bigger picture was– nothing had been the same for him. His conversations with coworkers were barely anything compared to what he shared with (N/n). Dialogues in the office were canned scripts, and they were oh-so-predictable.

And so that morning, he went up and quit his job before accepting the offer to be the Akademiya Syndicate's bookkeeper.

But (N/n) was nowhere to be found in their usual spot.

Not in the fountain– not in the old bar.

Where the hell were they?

Alhaitham asked the people of Morepesok if they'd seen them, but these efforts were futile. Some were eager to point out that they know what's-their-name-s, but none led back to where they were. And the street urchins that were familiar with the name (N/n) assumed they'd departed the country and gone back to their homeland.

He refused to believe that. Passions quite like theirs do not burn out as easily as he did.

As a result, waiting in Morepesok for (N/n) in the hopes that they'll return has become a daily ritual. For the first few days, no one was eager to approach the new Akademiyan mafioso; instead, he would monitor the time with a feverish bloodlust. Even in Snezhnaya's harsh winters, he is frequently observed by numerous concerned bystanders who urge him to get inside because it is cold out. None of their worries stopped him. He saw waiting as a chance to relieve stress. These quiet moments remind him of his humble humanity, and he was grateful to have ever met (N/n) because of this.

Yet they never came back.

But Alhaitham never held it against them. It's alright.

Thanks to them, he lived the kind of life he never knew he dreamed of.

"6 AM sharp, huh?"

The more he hung around the square, the more people thought they understood him. They were under the impression that this immovable man was not on a syndicate mission– he was just a lovelorn yet patient man.

"But I doubt I'm far gone. I just appreciate them. That's all there is to it." These were the words that helped him sleep at night. But if the term "lovelorn" simply means "unrequited" then perhaps the way he feels while waiting for them to return fits the description.

He was still sitting upright by the fountain in Morepesok Plaza, waiting expectantly for (N/n) to return like a dog.

—----

And even now, he waited.

Until (Y/n), Capo of the Innamorati family, found him lying on the ground.

(N/n) didn't come.

"(Y/n)..." Rosaria whispered while her face grimaced at the pungent and metallic smell. You both observed the pool of blood on the ground.

You and Rosaria narrowly escaped the blast of whatever divine power Tighnari conjured– and you’re still processing what happened in the theatre that you couldn’t comprehend the body right in front of you. If Rosaria wasn’t there to lift you on her shoulders you would’ve stood and resigned to your fate. Thankfully, you weren’t wounded, but the bump you had on the seats when the water pressure pushed you back nearly gave you a concussion.

In the end, you both came back for Alhaitham with soaked coats and socks, dripping from head to toe. Rosaria’s veil was discarded and left by the doorsteps as it was distractingly clinging to her skin– you would’ve done the same with your coat had it not been one of your favorite ones. Your cold and quivering limbs weep for respite but you remained steadfast. However, your mind does not share the same willpower. Your thoughts were slow but chaotic.

Just how did Tighnari flood the underground theater earlier?

Was that really a gnosis?

Why did he have one?

Where did Tighnari flee now?

You shook your head in an attempt to focus on what was in front of you.

Who attacked Alhaitham?

His neck is bleeding and there's a clean stab wound on his neck. The crimson trail trickled down to his exposed arm. With his back leaning on the wall and head facing down, Alhaitham did not move a muscle. You know little about Alhaitham but you did know one thing: he wanted to work with you far longer than your first guess.

Suppose he’s underqualified to be an underboss, after all, failing his first (and last) mission like this. You once heard Pantalone say that "Akademiyan spies are the weakest species in Teyvat" and your new "underboss" proved that right by messing up the marble tiles with his blood.

The collar you were supposed to give him feels useless in your pocket.

Maybe you should've picked Enjou instead. That crazy maniac would survive better than him, and he's just a merchant in the Abyss Market you like to gossip with.

Alhaitham is pathetic. Was pathetic.

"One of those fascists likely killed your underboss," Rosaria said, sounding awful like she was reading from a script. "It seems that Tighnari will do anything to stop you from maintaining your position."

That's funny, cause the only way those shits can achieve that is by burying you alive– and they failed miserably– comically, even.

Did they seriously think you'd weep for Alhaitham?

For someone as “replaceable” as him, as Tighnari would put it?

You've said it once and you'll say it again: that's fucking hilarious. Tartaglia would love this story– you're sure. They've already taken your best friend Dimitri, everyone else is secondary. You love your men, but they know they can never be him. Hell, you'd argue that if the others were equally loved, Alhaitham would be "less equal" than the others.

You didn't take a second look at Alhaitham, and not because you lack remorse.

The real reason is too boring.

He's not dead.

He's just unconscious.

Sadly no, that was not just the first stage of grief speaking. There's still some life left in him. He's nowhere near as cold as a corpse shouldn't be. Would've made your job a lot easier if he was, but he's still breathing, albeit shallow and excruciatingly so. However, that doesn't change the fact that he'll survive. All for one damn good reason–

Sister Rosaria was the one who attacked him.

The inquisitor must've left him like this hoping that fate will decide whether he lives or not, which means she was hesitant to kill him. In a way, your casual friendship with the nun saved your second underboss. This isn't your first rodeo– you've had good friends who tried to kill you once and vice versa, and it's nothing a visit to Angel's Share can't fix. Rosaria was merely a tool. Her feelings had nothing to do with this. It's a good thing your conversations with Sister Rosaria are never dull, you hate to imagine what you would've done to her otherwise.

Lucky bastards, both Alhaitham AND Sister Rosaria.

Still, this meant that someone else ordered you to assassinate your underboss.

Someone from the church. The very same cathedral you swore fealty to and devoted half of your life's work on.

You laughed furiously.

"Hahahaha! I see!"

Who the FUCK is the rat that tried to take what's YOURS?

You wrapped the scarf around his neck taut like a gauze and propped him upward. Alhaitham's weight leaned on your right side as you began lazily carrying him. It doesn't look like he'll wake up soon, so at least he wouldn't be bragging about getting carried by his boss.

Rosaria wore a stiff expression.

You both know the truth, and she's wholly aware you've pieced everything together. But you're not mad at her– any sister of Barbara is a familia to you. She's just following orders, and if what the church wanted was to frame Tighnari for this…

Then who's to say they haven't pinned someone else for any other crime?

But that's not what matters now– Alhaitham's situation is urgent compared to these half-baked conspiracies.

"He lives." You said. "Don't worry Rosaria."

Neither of you addressed how you subtly forgave her.

She placed two fingers on his wrist. The nun sighed a little too relieved when she felt his pulse.

"Good. Then we should go find help."

You smirked. "Oh, no need to worry. I know a medical professional nearby."

"Whoever it is you have in mind, you better make the right call, we're losing him." She spoke casually.

Neither of you showed any semblance of panic over a dying man.

Sister Rosaria, a child of the Archons, was more afraid of your fury than his stripping lifeline.

"Of course, Sister Rosaria."

In all honesty, he's by no means the "right call" for this scenario. But who else can you turn to,

other than Il Dottore himself?

—---

→ Common Route First Half Complete!!! ←

A/n: Did y'all think Alhaitham was going to die? Me too. Trust me, I'd give you guys a lot of chances to kill these three.

Btw, did some of their dialogue sound familiar? You're all very creative!!! I had to cut some responses off (I'm sorry.) because some were already similar while others currently don't fit the situation… But I hope some of you read it and went "oh, this is MY answer from the open-ended question (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)!!!" I want you all to feel like you're part of what builds Capo!Reader's personality!

Same as usual, the underlined word (Il Dottore) leads to the polls. Have fun voting!!!

Deadline: TBA

Taglist, thank you all for reading "OC!MC!" ❤️: @scaranaris-lil-niko @ruru-senpai-is-an-infp @vienettacream @theglowfly @vermillionite @nasidibakar

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