#the head not having the memories of the game so neither of them know what really happened in the end

[fangsandfeels]

I've seen the "Non-ascended Astarion ending is bad for him because you have to persuade him to reject the ritual" opinion...

..implying that he never really wanted not to ascend, it's you the player who selfishly forces him to give up on his goal. To prove their point, they state that you can get a good ending out of all other companion's quests without using Persuasion at all, except for Astarion.

And boy did I want to talk about this...

(In fact, everything I wanted to say has already been told in this amazing meta post, but I still gotta ramble)

First of all, Astarion was going through an intense PTSD. The game gave him a debuff to show how badly going back to the place of his torment was affecting him. Larian couldn't make it more obvious that he wasn't thinking clearly.

Second, there is one thing all abusers have in common: they destroy their victim's feelings of self-worth to the point, the victim no longer wants or knows how to ask for help or have relationships outside their abusive circle.

Who would want you like this? Look at yourself, you think you're better than me? You're nothing. Who would want to waste their time on you? You think somebody else would treat you better?

Since entering the Cazador's palace, Astarion is reliving his worst moments. Initially, he takes it in stride, hiding his discomfort underneath performative and emotional expressiveness. He talks about how he spent time in the bedrooms where he never did any sleeping, about the kennels where he was tortured, about the barracks where he was sent to when he "deserved neither carrot nor stick". Bad memories, but he shares them with Tav because he trusts them with his scars already. They might as well know the rest.

But after descending into the dungeon, Astarion starts spiraling into self-loathing at a break-neck speed. He used to think that all Cazador victims he ever brought to him were long gone, drained, and discarded. A horrible, undeserved death, yet the thought of them not having to suffer for too long was a small consolation, one of the threads holding his sanity together.

But then it turns out that they weren't dead. They were turned. Locked away deep underground, alone with their new selves, with the hunger and isolation. They did suffer. All these years, they suffered, buried in this tomb - because of him. Cazador may have turned them, but it was Astarion who brought them to him. And they remembered it. They recognized him. The monster who stole them from their home. The monster who ruined their life. Monster. Just like Cazador.

So, as if his PTSD wasn't enough, this revelation was another blow to his grip on himself, his perception of himself. His confident facade was shattering - and in his head, he was starting to think that Tav's idea of him, of who he is, was shattering as well. He tried to warn them before. He said he couldn't be what they saw in him. Whatever person they believed him to be had never existed - and Tav was finally coming to realize that as they walked through the gallery of his sins, looking his victims in the eyes and hearing out what they had to say. Of course, Tav hated him now. They had to. How could they not?

So, at the end, he is scared. Terrified. He bit off more than he could chew by walking into the manor and thinking he had only six fellow spawns to deal with. He saw their lives as a small price to pay because Cazador made sure to erase any solidarity between them. He made them torture each other and compete with each other. He twisted the very meaning of family bonds to his perverted liking, and he knew that by doing so, he would make sure every single one of them would get a whiplash from anyone trying to mention family in a positive connotation. Astarion takes no issue with getting rid of his "brothers" and "sisters" because he is fully aware that had the roles been reversed, they would have sacrificed him without a second thought. And he was certain that Tav would change their mind once they learned more about his brethren.

But the spawns in the dungeon...All the faces he remembered. All the lovers he lured. They did nothing wrong. They never hurt him. They never tortured him. Their only mistake was to trust him.

The revelation horrifies him. His first response is to be shocked, overwhelmed with emotion - and then he has to remind himself that sacrifices must be made. He feigns indifference. He tries to cover his internal conflict with gallows humor. But his flippant mask keeps slipping as he lapses from indifference to anger, to guilt, to begging Tav not to hate him as his greatest crimes glare back at him and claw at him, shouting out threats and seething with hatred.

He can't bear the thought of dealing with all the people whose lives he helped to destroy. He can't do anything for them. Just killing Cazador won't undo what he did to them. He will never be anything but a monster in their eyes. And this is what he deserves to be. He will always be reminded of what he is.

He has no choice but to do the Ritual.

He has no idea what will happen to him after he is done - he isn't a planner. He has never been. But at this point, he doesn't see his soul as something worthy of preserving - and by association, he extends that to other spawns. He knows it all too well because he remembers how it felt. He dissociates, projecting everything he hated about himself onto Cazador's victims, trying to rationalize why he should live and why they must die while he actively avoids the truth.

Completing the ritual is no longer about being free. Or protecting himself and his lover. It's about running away. Even when Astarion has Cazador at his mercy, he still thinks of running away. Getting lost forever. So nobody could ever hurt him.

A part of him even realizes that it means running away from Tav too. But Tav can leave, he naively thinks, not knowing the full consequences of the ritual. Tav will leave to find someone else, someone better, and he will start everything anew, a king of his castle.

So, of course, Tav has to reach out to him through that thick haze of fear, anger, and self-hatred. Persuasion isn't about strongarming someone into doing what you want. It's not subjugation or emotional blackmail. It's reasoning with someone. And that is exactly what Tav does - reasons with Astarion after watching him mentally struggle, after seeing his genuine shock and fear, after understanding that he isn't fully on board with the idea.

It's true, vampire spawns tend to gravitate toward power, especially if nothing is pulling them back. A vampire spawn is a feared and scorned creature - it no longer matters whether they were an unwilling victim, forcefully taken and turned. They are seen not as an individual but as the extension of their master - and the only natural transition for them is to get on the top of the food chain. The only way to make a name and become treated as something more.

Astarion saw power as the mean to safety and freedom, first and foremost. Ironically, he never planned beyond securing these two priorities. He never saw himself after accomplishing his goals, and it's kinda amazing how people can make conclusions about his hedonism because he misses petty vanities, wants to drink blood from a goblet, and sleep on silken sheets. The man who was held and tortured in the kennels, fed rats, and had to stitch and fix his only set of clothes over and over to keep it presentable, the man who has never felt happy for most of his conscious non-life is called hedonistic for wanting nice things. For still wanting to take care of himself for once.

He wasn't harboring any grand plans, conquests, or schemes. Even his idea of taking control of the Absolute was abstract and shapeless because he didn't care about getting control over the most influential people as much as he was afraid of breaking whatever protected him from Cazador's domination. He never really knew what to do with power aside from keeping Cazador and the likes of him at bay.

The way Astarion behaves in a relationship also speaks tons of how controlling he really is...or how he isn't controlling at all. When his romance with Tav transforms into something real, and he enters a new territory, Astarion is empowered to make decisions and think about what he wants instead of pleasuring others. It's clear that he and Tav don't have sex after they come clear about their feelings. Tav respects his comfort and boundaries, gives him all the time he needs, and lets him take the lead. Whether they will have sex again or not is entirely up to Astarion. Whatever he decides, it won't change Tav's feelings for him. He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to do.

Astarion enjoys this new autonomy. He is playful, affectionate, outspoken...and afraid of messing everything up. If Tav mentions breaking up, Astarion thinks he is the problem. If there is another potential love interest showing they have eyes for Tav, Astarion encourages Tav to be with them because he believes they can give Tav everything he can't. When Tav says "I choose you," Astarion is taken aback, needing a moment to hide his genuine confusion at Tav actually wanting to be with him rather than Gale, Karlach, or Halsin.

For all his talks of control and dominating others, once Astarion finds himself with a lover who values his autonomy more than getting power at the cost of his dignity, who makes it safe for him to be honest, and who listens to him, he almost stops mentioning control. He merely lives in the moment, happy not to know, not to pretend, not to manipulate. Just to be.

What Astarion truly craves - not wants on a superficial level, not conditioned to want - is not to be a vampire lord. He wants the freedom to be anything. Anything he wants. Little does he know that true vampires rarely get to be anything they want, even if they gain the ability to walk in the sun -- we see it in his Ascended path as, instead of acting up on his supposed freedom to be anything, Astarion repeats Cazador's rules step by step. Just like Cazador did. Just like Verlioth did. He isn't anything he wants. He is the replica of his former master.

Astarion never had the luxury to explore who he wanted to be outside what Cazador made him. He only makes his first steps once he is free. We see glimpses of that deep-seated aspiration to be seen as a person. Treated like a person. Loved like a person. To be reflected in someone's eyes. He wants to know if there is someone beneath his usual mask, something his, not tainted by Cazador. Someone real. And at the same time, he dreads to know the answer. Because that part of him knows regret. Knows shame. Knows guilt. Confronting it posed the risk of realizing he didn't deserve love, kindness, or a future. What if real him truly doesn't amount to anything? What else for him to do?

So, he tells himself that he has no choice, and he expects Tav to affirm it -- not because he wants them to, but because he believes that Tav has seen enough to make the same conclusion. However, Tav objects, trying to be louder than all the inner demons hissing into his ears. Tav speaks to the Astarion, who asked them what they saw when they looked at him. The Astarion, who thanked them for standing by his side when he said "No" to Araj. The Astarion one who stood frozen in their hug before returning it tentatively. The Astarion who diligently, dedicatedly, caringly kept pulling himself together instead of letting himself unravel completely.

Tav reminds him that this Astarion, right here, right now, is worth fighting for. That he didn't survive all these years of torture, pain, humiliation, and dehumanization to give himself up now. He already has the power to avenge himself, avenge all Cazador's victims. He can end everything right here, right now - and this is the only power to free him. He has the power (and responsibility) of having a choice.

Tav empathizes with other spawns as victims not because they're more "innocent" than Astarion, but because associating with them doesn't brand Astarion as weak or broken. These spawns aren't horrible wretches, and neither is he. They don't deserve this, and neither did he.

The only one who deserves to die today is Cazador - the vampire, the monster, the pathetic piece of shit.

Astarion Ancunin deserves to live.

[daenysthedreamersblog]

ONLY ANGEL II - CHERRY

Don't you call him baby

We're not talking lately

Don't you call him what you used to call me

part one

summary: coriolanus has at last returned to the capitol only to find you engaged to felix and he simply won't have that...and neither will you it seems

pairing: postacademy!coryo x capitol!reader

warning: MDNI!! swearing, dark themes, violence, infidelity, smut, hand-job, fingering, oral sex, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spitting, mild breeding kink, v mild daddy kink, probs like a small exhibition kink, coryo probs has a cherry kink (lmao), murder, these two are sick in the head

notes: i saw a tiktok and it was a recipe video and the caption was 'baking bc murder is wrong' and i feel like reader took that personally. this took me way too long to finish and im still not in love with it but hope u find joy in it! (also let me add felix lived in the book but he did die in the movie 🤭)

"Do you hear that, Coriolanus? It's the sound of Snow falling."

His eyes quiver as water unintentionally wells staring down at his handkerchief, next to everything else that incriminated him.

He had won, he had won, who cares how he had done it. And you had been there, smiling up at him with such pride, not a single thought besides looking at Coriolanus. He had won for you.

And now he was here unable to tear his eyes away from his mistakes.

He hears your heels clipping against the hard floor behind him, but he can't look at you, he can't face you, not yet. You can't see him like this. He needs to find a way out of this first. He wants to plead with you to listen, beg you to stay by his side. You know he wants to too, he can feel it in the air, your shame towards him. You huff out a laugh, the sound ringing out like distant wedding bells in his head, then you're walking away from him without a single word your heels hitting the floor harshly with every step you take until he's left in silence.

Alone.

-

He watches the districts blur past him sitting wearily on the train dragging him away from his home, dragging him away from you. He runs a hand through his buzzed hair, the only solace in the whole ordeal, at least he didn't have his curls to be cursed by the memory of your hands in them. He knows he'll never see you again, even if he returns you'll want nothing to do with him. He glances at Sejanus across from him, the small smile on the Plinth boy's face, and his nails dig into his palm.

"President Coriolanus Snow." You had whispered up at him. Now he was just a useless ordinary peacekeeper sent to die out in the districts while you laid in Felix Ravinstill's bed.

He glares out the window. No he won't have that, not one bit. He'll find a way home to you, find a way to make you proud of him again no matter if he has to obliterate all of District 12 to do it. He'd burn it all down, burn the world down too while he's at it...for you.

One year later

He stares at you the whole entire party, watches you nurse your drink so delicately the color of it staining your lips marroon. You're wearing a similar shade satin dress, the cowl neckline draped across your breast, every curve hugged exquisitely, and your ass... Coriolanus was hard the minute his eyes found you, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

You never look his way once.

This party was for him, because of him. Because attending University, working under Gaul had thrown The Hunger Games to new heights, him to new heights. Everyone was celebrating another successful game, celebrating his hard work.

You wouldn't look at him.

His work wasn't done of course, he still needed to ascend further to rightfully take the Presidency. He could do it, especially with this newly found wealth and respect. He was back where he belonged; on top.

And you wouldn't look at him.

He knew it had everything to do with that giant rock on your left hand, your fiancé's nasty arm around your waist. He sneered into his own drink, Mrs. Ravinstill. It sounded horrid.

You never sought him out once he had returned to the Capitol after his...punishment. Never came to find him once your fiancé came home from University informing you Coriolanus Snow had at last returned. He knew he'd never see you there; you never intended on going, content on marrying the President. He figured as much, knew it was too far fetched to imagine opening his front door to find you there begging him to take you back. You would never beg.

He needed to speak to you, demand why you chose Felix over him, why you wouldn't come see him in his newly remodeled pent house. He needed to fuck you, be inside you, taste your sweet spit again. Nothing else had gotten him through those horrible months in 12, but the thought of getting back home to you.

And you wouldn't fucking look at him.

He knew you were deliberately ignoring him, another game you liked to play the only thing missing was that hard candy dripping from your lips. A cat playing with her food, but he was different now, a snake rather than a mouse and he had not lied and schemed and clawed his way back for you to pick Felix Ravinstill over him. He watched you peel off heading towards the bathroom, and he took his chance stalking after you. You were fixing your lipgloss when he barged in. You didn't even flinch, only glanced at him through the mirror.

Your smirked as you fixed the corner of your mouth. "Hi Coryo," His cock twitched at the old nickname.

"Marry me." He cut to the chase and you raised an eyebrow at him. He had the money now, the respect, soon the presidency, everything you had wanted him to get, he had gotten. Sure it had taken an unconventional route, but the destination would be all the same. He dug into his pocket, pulled out the red velvet box, and opened it revealing a huge diamond ring, bigger than Felix's. It was the first thing he bought when the Plinth's wealth soon became his. You eyed it and then turned back to fixing your makeup.

"No." You scoffed.

He snapped the box close and tucked it away. "Marry me." You shake your head at him smirking to yourself as you put your lip gloss away. He walks up behind you keeping some distance between the two of you, he needs to touch you but he pauses his fingers itching forward to grab onto your skin. "You never came to see me." He remembers waiting at the train station, to see you one last time. He never got to explain what had happened, how he did it all for you. He even knew if it came down to it he would have disgraced himself by begging you to wait for him, he knew if he did you would only stray from him more. But you never showed up, and soon he was being carted off to District 12.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Your hand tapped against the sink ceramic clinking with the sound of your ring, he should have known better than to expect an answer, "He proposed after graduation, at my party, you were supposed to attend." You met his gaze in the mirror as he towered behind you, the explanation plainly on your face; you had been ashamed of him. "I thought you were better than that." You didn't care that he cheated, you only cared that he got caught.

He takes a step forward as you slowly turn to face him your foot plants between the two of his, knee caressing his thigh fraying his nerves under warm skin. "I am." He can't help it, his knuckle strokes your cheek. "Thought you were my angel...forgive me."

You push up lightly breathing up at him; it was your version of forgiveness. "Do you like my lipgloss?" You ask the sweet fruity scent of it swirling up towards him, he knows what it would taste like.

"Cherry."

"I wore it for you." You add as you toy with his shirt moving even closer until he feels your breath on his mouth.

His bottom lip brushes against yours, breast pressing into his chest, his clothes feel too tight, "Are you gunna let me taste it?" You're too close, his body too hot, his hard cock digging into your flesh as you slip a hand between bodies to run a palm along it; absolution for his sins.

"Should I?" You ask into his open mouth and he finds his hand on your collarbone. He doesn't know why you do this to him, place yourself on the small string just out of reach for him, and it takes everything in him to not choke the air out of you for doing it, for teasing him constantly after going so long with your silence. He should leave you to rot, but he can't. He simply...can't. Your cherry venom had snuck into him, ran through his blood, thickened his arteries, and your fangs were holding on too tight.

"Everything I did was for you."

You raise an eyebrow, "You still got found out." You jutted your bottom lip out your whisper hot against his teeth, he could smell the cherry wine on your breath "Left me all alone."

He grits his teeth, wants to explain he had no control over any of it, but you didn't care. "I'm back now." His hands grab onto your waist enjoying the feel of your body under his palms once more his lips grazing against yours, "I killed anyone who was ever going to keep me from you."

"Not everyone."

Felix.

"I'll kill him too."

You snarled against his mouth, "Good."

He smashed your mouths together, and you opened right up for him. You tasted of cherry, as sweet as before as he sucked the wine from your lips, licking it off your tongue. He thought of nothing but you his whole time out in that pest filled district, he fell asleep dreaming of your mouth, your breasts, your sweet cunt waiting drenched for him back home. You bit down on his bottom lip and tugged backwards before glancing up at him.

Your hands were so far down his pants, running down the length of him, gathering precum and smearing it across to slide a soft hand around the shaft. He groans into your mouth as you grip harder, move faster. "Did you miss me Coryo?" You coo against his face. "Missed my hand, my pussy, wrapped around you so tight." You squeeze, nails grazing as you swirled around his cock. "Did you think of me often? Think of me while you had to cum down a dirty drain?"

He squeezes his eyes tight, "Yes." He pants, and he hates that it was always true. He doesn't like this, doesn't like how you're pulling this power play over him, but your fucking hand was pumping him for all his worth, and he can't find himself to care.

"I'm still your little slut Coryo." Your fingers graze his balls, tongue licking along his teeth. "Are you still mine?"

"Yes." He grunts out not able to stop the cum shooting hard into your hand all on the inside of his pants.

You grin up at him, "Someones quick off the mark."

He wants to slap you, slap that smile off your lips but instead he watches you pull your hand out to lick the cum off of it. He shoves you backwards, shoving your legs apart running a hand up your thigh meeting your bare wet pussy. His eyes flickered around your face, you knew tonight would have been his last straw, you knew he couldn't stay away any longer. He runs a knuckle through your wet folds power surging through him as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

He bites back the groan as his hand sinks into you relishing in the noise as he curls it up inside of you, savoring the moan clawing up your throat. You attach your lips to his as he begins to thrust in and out you pressing up against that soft spot that has you mewling down his throat. He presses a palm to your clit, "Coryo." You whimper out and he's moving his hand faster, fucking you with it vigorously feeling your hips tilt to meet his thrust.

Your walls spasm around his hand. He pulls off your mouth sucking down your neck, teeth digging into skin. "That's it, cum for me angel." His thumb shifts rubbing into your clit pleasure tightening your legs against his own as they try to part further, pushing his fingers deeper. He shoves down the front of your dress exposing your breast for him to knead into his palm, dipping down wrapping his mouth along your nipple rolling it around his tongue, nipping at it gently as your hands run through his hair. "Did you miss me too?"

"No."

He looks at you, takes in your smug expression and all he wants to do is slam your head back so hard the mirror cracks. "You're a fucking liar." He growls out at you, hand covering your face as he thrust hard and deep. "You touched yourself every night thinking of me." He pounds his hand into you harder your back hitting against the mirror, you're getting wetter by it, turned on by his violence the wanton moans spilling past your lips, "Thought about me fucking you since you learned I came back for you."

You let out a breathy laugh, "Fine...I missed you a little." You were never one to show your hand, so he takes what you give him.

He grabs your face between his fingers squeezing, "Don't ever fucking lie to me again."

"I promise." You moaned.

He's holding under you with one hand slamming into you the sick sound of it echoing around the bathroom, "Scream my name when you cum." He leans down close to your ear. "I want you fiancé to hear what a fucking whore you are for me."

And gods you do. You scream his glorious name out into the open air clamping down around him, cumming against his hand letting him draw slow circles around your clit until you whine for him to stop. He pulls his hand out of you and quickly sucks his fingers, swirling around his digits to drink up your nectar sweet pleasure licking up your sweat along your neck.

"Did he touch you?" He nips at your chin.

You chuckled, "I told you before I'm waiting for marriage."

"Such an angel." He kisses your open mouth.

"Your angel."

Coriolanus has his arms wrapped around your body supporting you against the sink. "You didn't come see me." He listens to your heart hammering in your chest as you catch your breath.

You run your hand through his shorter hair. "I miss your curls Coryo."

"Answer me." He finally demands staring down at you.

You sighed, "Felix wouldn't let me." You pouted trying to twist your fingers around his shorter hair but it was harder so you gave up, "So I kept my distance, watching you climb like the man I knew you always were, waiting for you." Your hands snaked around his neck smiling up at him eyes darkening, "Waiting for you to finally come take whats yours."

He searched your eyes, "Want me to steal you away in the night from that idiot of a fiancee?"

"It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."

His eyes flicker around your face, the reassuring ownership written there. He kisses your lips one more time before stepping back watching as you straighten out your dress once again having to fix your makeup and hair. "Marry me." He asks standing behind you in the mirror.

"No." You turn your body towards him. "I can't." You take a step forward hands resting on his stomach, "What are we going to do about that?"

He wraps his hand around yours, "Whatever it takes."

You don't even hide it as you exit together, not even as you head back into the party side by side. You know as well as him that you looked better next to Coriolanus, you belonged next to him. Your arm is tucked into Coriolanus's as the pair of you approach your soon-to-be husband who's eyes flare in alarm at the sight."Where'd you go?" He asks already taking in the mark on your neck, the flushed cheeks. He wants to grab you, lock you away, but he wouldn't dare move as you had attached yourself with Coriolanus.

Coriolanus looks down your body wondering if Felix can smell his cum sticky against your fingers as you speak. "I ran into Coriolanus." You motion to him as his eyes find Felix's angry ones.

"Coriolanus." He grits out. He knew, the poor bastard knew and he wouldn't say a thing, not in public anyways.

He smirks, "Felix."

You place your ringed hand on his chest, "Coriolanus was just telling me how wonderful it has been working with Dr. Gaul." You lied fingers splaying over his muscled chest white clumps clinging to your skin.

And only because Coriolanus enjoys pissing off Felix Ravinstill he places his hand over yours stroking a finger down your wrist. "You should stop by some day, if your free." He knows you always are, he knows Felix isn't. "I haven't seen you outside classes Felix, it will be nice for all of us to catch up."

Felix opened his mouth the decline sitting there, the bottled up cuckholding rage oozing off of him, but you smiled, dripping with fake sweetness. "Oh that would be lovely, nice distraction from wedding planning." He knew you weren't doing any of that. "How sweet of you Coriolanus." You looked up at you fiancée with those big eyes anyone would fall for.

Felix swallowed, biting out the submission. "How sweet indeed."

What a weak, spineless fool.

There's a knock on his door.

He watches it for a moment before standing up to unlock it.

"Hi Coryo," You lean against his doorframe smiling up at him. He always imagined you coming here, showing up, begging him, but that wasn't your style. "Gunna let me in?" He moves to the side to allow you to walk inside his home. "This is truly gorgeous." You praised him walking through his newly refurbished home. You had never seen if before, but he was glad for it, the after was more...fitting to the lifestyle Coriolanus wanted to give you.

He wanted to ask what you were doing here, but he knew what you wanted, could smell your arousal like a feral animal. "Does Felix know you're here?" He asked locking the door behind him.

You smirk still taking in the room before turning to look at him. "I hope he does."

Would you tell him? Why you kept lying to the poor man, why you didn't just leave him? Were you waiting for Coriolanus to make the first move in this game you had set up? He moves until he's standing in front of you, glancing down at you, "I got you something."

You gazed up at him under batting eyelashes, "How kind of you."

Coriolanus went into his old room picking up the present and walking back out to you. He holds out the pretty box for you watching as your fingers traced the box along it. "Figured since you can't get anymore from your Daddy, it would only seem fitting for me to fund my favorite habit of yours."

You pull the bow loose letting it fall around your feet before pushing the lid up to reveal the glass jar inside full of cherry suckers. "Oh Coryo," The smile flickered onto your lips as you stuck your hand inside to pull one loose. He watched you unwrap it, watched you push it into your mouth. "Mhm," You moaned body heat radiating off you as you stepped closer your hand palming his cock through his pants. "Taste almost as good as you."

"Dirty girl." He gritted out as you shoved your hand below his waistband soft fingers wrapping around him. He can't look away from your face as your tongue rolls along the red ball, as you stroke his hard length. "Get on your knees."

You pop off the sucker. "Is this my second gift?"

"Do you deserve a second gift?" He ask hand stroking down your cheek.

"I do Coryo, I've been such a good girl while you were gone." You breath against his lips.

He tugs the sucker loose and shoves it into his own mouth missing the taste of it mixed with your sweet saliva. He sets the box back down as you climb down onto the floor in front of him pulling him out of his pants. You lick the tip, swirling your tongue around him before pushing him in further until he hits the back of your throat, and even then you try to keep forcing him deeper.

His hand is in your hair as he lets your hand pump the rest of him that wont fit inside your hot mouth, tongue flat against the base as he ruts against you. You gaze up at him, tears welling involuntarily as he hits the back of your throat over and over again, and you smile every-time. "Missed sucking my cock that much angel?" You nod, a moan vibrating down his dick. His other hand comes around your face feeling the spilling over spit run down your chin as you sloppily bob your mouth up and down him. He remembers having to finish into a his hand all that time away imagining this, you greedily sucking his cock. He tries to force your head to move slower, to enjoy the feel of your warm mouth wrapped around him, but he struggles as your grip tightened around him, your other hand coming up to cup his balls.

He hisses, fucking your mouth faster, letting you take what he was giving you. He wants himself stuck between your teeth as much as the sweet sugar you consumed. You want it too as you suck in your cheeks sucking him harder. "You want my cum baby girl?"

You come off him for a second mouth wide, tongue outstretched to graze the underside of him, "Always Coryo." It goes straight to his head...and his cock.

His thighs tighten and he is shoving himself back into your mouth, holding you tight against him to spill down your throat as cherry filled saliva slips down his own. "Swallow all of it." He doesn't need to tell you twice as you keep sucking and licking up his twitching cock keeping every last drop inside your mouth to slip down your throat. And even when you come off him you lick the tip clean smirking up at him.

"Even better than I remember." You tell him as he helps you to your feet. His hands come around your face as he kisses you savoring the cum and cherry sugar in your mouth. He licks it off the roof of your mouth, sucks the juice off your tongue before he pulls away letting you press a soft lasting kiss to his lips.

"What are you waiting for?" He whispers fingers tracing your puffy lips. He wants to spill his guts, describe how you roiled inside of them. You only smile up at him like you knew he would carve it all out for you, he would, and it makes him want to strangle you. "Leave him."

You reach up pulling your sucker free from his lips and pushing it back through your own. "I wish it was that easy." Your sigh was answer enough, there was no way to move forward with Felix's ring around your finger.

His hand lands at the base of your neck anger filling him. "I should leave you." He hisses out tired of watching you be with another man when you belonged with him, belonged to him.

"You wanna leave me?" His fingers dig into your jaw as a smug smile plastered onto your lips he wants to slap it off your face, he wants to fuck you unforgivably to regain his power you thought you had stolen when he was sent away, "I fucking dare you."

You know he never could, and he hates you for it, "You want me to murder all of Panem to prove myself to you?"

"Would you?"

Candy scented breaths ease out of you, no fear on your soft features, and he knows his answer immediately. Yes. He would, he'd do a lot worst to keep you looking at him.

"No... Not all." Just one more, is what you don't say. He drops his hand watching as you go to the door. You put one hand on the knob as you threw a wicked grin over your shoulder cherry sucker pushed into your cheek, "Bye Coryo."

It's no surprise after that night you began showing up to 'visit' Felix during his studies at The University. He sees you walking up the set of small stairs, a classy black tweed minidress hugging your body, the white little ribbon bouncing in your hair, candy between your teeth as you walked towards the hall littered with men.

He wished he could grab you, kiss you, fuck you in front of everyone so they know who you belonged to, who got to go home to you every night, who got to hear your pretty little moans. He wanted them to be envious of him, not that idiot Felix. It wasn't fair, and frankly it wasn't right.

You state you're there for Felix, but you never go in the direction his classes are, and you certainly never come when he's free of them. Your eyes fixate on Coriolanus, "Hi Coryo." Your voice slides down his spine like sugared ice as you stop in front of him.

"Can't stay away hmm?" He smirks down at you.

"From you?" You raise an eyebrow toying with the stick of your sucker the pout in your bottom lip. "Never. It was so hard this last year..."

His hand comes around toying with the ribbon in your hair. He tugs it lightly watching your head lean back at the movement. "Always such a slut." Because only you would be so brash about your desire for him, you truly only come here so he can fuck you in the bathroom. The ribbon slides out and into his palm, the collection of them all still stuffed away in his old peacekeeper box. He remembers gripping them between his knuckles when he had to fuck his fist in that disgusting barrack. Your tongue darts out for him, swirling around the tip of your candy, licking up the length of it. "Want my cock in your cunt that badly huh?"

"Come over for dinner," You purr up at him as a hand strokes down his shirt. "Felix works late tonight with his uncle."

He shakes his head at you as you roll the ball across your bottom lip, "Filthy fucking girl, want me to come fuck you while your fiancée is away."

You drag your tongue up the center, "You can fuck me while he's home too."

"You would let me." He watches you nod, "Let me fuck you right here against this wall too?" You gaze up at him not needing to answer, he knows you'd let him. He leans down to whisper in your ear, "Such a fucking whore, well then go on, pull your dress up. I know you're not wearing anything under it." He watches as your eyes darken, fingers actually going to the hem of your dress, and he fights the urge to shove his hand so far between your legs.

Felix calls your name and he finds his hand around your wrist holding you to his side, "Yes darling?"

You watch your fiancée walk towards the two of you worry laced on his face while Coriolanus mouth presses to the shell of your ear, "Stop calling him darling."

He pulls the sucker from your mouth to shove into his own as you smirk sidelong at him, Felix stopping in front of you. "You shouldn't have come." Felix says hand going to your waist, trying to pull you away, peering around the filled hallway, but you stay planted next to Coriolanus. Coriolanus fights the urge to burn his hands where they touch you.

Your eyes glance up to Coriolanus for a fleeting second. "I wanted to see you." He knows your words aren't meant for your fiancée

"It's a busy time. I have to get going." He eyes you, eyes Coriolanus with your sucker in his mouth. "I'll see you at home later."

Home. Coriolanus hates that, that wasn't your home, simply a prison preventing you from living with him. "Okay." You say, but make no effort to move. In fact you lean into Coriolanus's hand as it lands on the small of your back.

"Go home." Felix tries to sound demanding summoning all his strength to keep his eyes on you instead of Coriolanus.

Your smile is sinful, finding delight in whatever dominance Felix had forced himself into. "We were just catching up, you understand don't you." You don't even mention the invitation you had offered, the door you would leave open for him to come inside.

Felix's hand grips your arm yanking you towards him. "We talked about this." Felix tried to say it quietly as if Coriolanus wouldn't hear him, grinding his foot into the floor like a stubborn child. There was no hiding your wandering eye, no hiding how Coriolanus was always on the receiving end of it. Felix was now figuring out how to grow some balls to say something about it, but you didn't care. You never would.

You step forward placing the hand he held on his chest and he knows you wish you could plunge you painted claws through his sternum to rip out his heart. You pat his chest instead looking over your shoulder at Coriolanus, "Bye Coryo." You leave them standing there hips swaying as you walk away.

"Stealing the Plinth fortune wasn't enough for you?" Felix grits out eyes on your ribbon in Coriolanus's hand, your candy between his teeth.

Coriolanus's fingers toy with it watching you leave as he repeated what you told him, "It isn't stealing if it always belonged to you."

He arrived early. He knows the door is unlocked but he is still a gentleman so he knocks on the door to your and Felix's future forever home. He knew you had moved in together after the engagement, had gathered as much when he went to your old home and found it empty. You open the door wide and the air knocks out of his chest. He'll never get over you, he knew that then carted away on that train to 12, he knows that now with the blood staining his hands.

He knows you'd lick it off.

"Hi Coryo." You smile allowing him into your home closing the door behind the two of you. You lock it; he cherished the sound.

He held out the bouquet of white roses he brought, "For you."

You lean forward inhaling as you gaze up at him under dark eyelashes. He often heard Felix bragging about working with his uncle, how beneficial it was, how the position simply suits him. Well Felix could brag all he wanted, it would never do him any good.

Coriolanus looks around taking in your decorated home, the pictures of you and Felix lining the walls. They were hideous, "Where did you mother ever go off to?"

"She was so distraught after Daddy died." You frown, the perfect sadness sketched on your face, as you took the flowers setting them in a pretty vase at the center of the table. "She was overcome with grief."

Your father had died suddenly....unexpectedly.

What a tragic accident.

He remembers your fake tears, he especially remembered comforting you at the small lunch-in your mother had after the funeral, comforting you by fucking you in your parent's bed while guest downstairs mourned your father.

He was hard just thinking about it, thinking about licking those sweet crocodile tears away as he plunged himself into your hot cunt. He wanted to do it again, take you in you martial bed simply to prove a point, to prove the same point he had back then. That you belonged to him.

You sighed turning to look at him leaning back against your large dining table. "I reached out to Dr. Gaul and she was more than happy to help me." He took slow steps towards you your eyes following him until he towered over you. "She found a nice facility to...take care of her."

His hand came up snaking around your neck, thumb stroking your jaw. "You're a piece of work you know that?"

"You play your games," The well hidden wickedness flashes behind your eyes, the woven in manipulation surrounding all you touched. "I play mine."

You let his other hand grab onto your waist. "There are worse games to play."

He leans down to kiss you, your mouth so soft and warm against his, he feels you open, tongue sliding along his. He pulls your body against his, breast pushed onto his chest as his hands hold you tight. He's sick of letting you go. "Do you still want a man angel?"

"I want you," You breath into his open mouth and the hand on your hip slips between your legs.

He groans out at the feel of you, grinding his cock against your body fingers running up your drenched pussy. He wants it all, wants that sweet addiction only you can give him, and it still would never be enough to satiate him. He laid you back, spreading you open like his own personal feast and digs into your cunt.

Your moan reverberates through him as his tongue licks up your center passing over your clit in teasing strokes, nails digging into his scalp. He wants Felix to walk in, to see how Coriolanus could make his put together fiancée come so undone in his own home. And how he'll never get the chance to even try. But he wants to be inside you, so he hopes your stupid soon-to-be husband would stay away a little while longer. You sigh his name, the sound like a psalm, and he thinks he'd still fuck you even if Felix walked in right now.

Coriolanus glides his tongue along your clit two fingers pushing into you as your back arches for him. Then he moves faster, curling his fingers against that soft spot. He knows your close already, knew your body like the back of his hand, he can tell by the tightness in your legs, the pants of air you force out, so he keeps fucking you with his hand, keeps his tongue pressed against your throbbing clit.

He pulls away before you cum.

"Coryo." You whine eyes wild and offended.

Coriolanus simply smirks, "That's for not coming to see me."

His fingers begin moving again, his mouth wrapping around your clit and you relax taking it in, feeling the pleasure he was giving you. Your fingers curl, legs trying to stay spread but they're shaking too much as he brings you closer and closer again. You're right there, he can feel your walls trying to clamp down around him, feel you pushing down against his face to keep him there.

He pulls away again.

"Coriolanus!" You cry out.

He laughs watching you glare down at him. "And that's for being a fucking brat all the time."

You can't retort, can't argue as he spits down on your already soaked cunt, dipping down into you again your eyes squeezing shut the deep groan coming from your throat. He would make you suffer more, but the taste of you always sends him into a frenzy and he can't help but become drunk off your pleasure. His tongue moves side to side in quick motions as his fingers thrust in and out, curled up along your g-spot. It's too much already, too intense from failed orgasms. Every breath is a mewling whimper as you thrust your hips back downward into his face to chase your climax.

He'll play nice with you, as long as you remember who was in power.

"Who's your Daddy now angel?" He smirks against you before wrapping his mouth around your clit.

You scream his name as you come hard against his face, rivers of pleasure dripping down his chin, onto the table and floor. He keeps moving his tongue slowly against you drinking in everything not caring that it's overstimulating as you keep spasming around him, not caring as teeth graze against your clit. His tongue dips inside of you gently thrusting in and out and you're clawing at him for more, and he would, he would fuck you with his tongue, make you cum over and over again just like this, but you tug on his hair.

"Coryo," He loves the break in your voice as you whine for pleasure, how sweet it sounds coming from your devilish tongue. "Fuck me."

Anything for you.

He pulls away and stands up flipping you over, unbuckling his pants. He strokes a hand down your pretty hair, running over the angel cake softness of your bare skin, his hand lands on your hip. He's inside you before you can breath walls enveloping his cock, its so wet he slides in so fucking deep. His hand twist in your hair yanking it back to arch your back as he quickly starts fucking you viciously. You claw at the table moaning into the open air. "You like that hmm?" He drives himself in hard wrapping his hand around your body, slithering it up to your neck. "Like when I fuck you like the whore you are?" You did and you were, just for him. Only ever for him. He squeezes your throat a little enjoy the little gasp you give him before he limits your air supply. He's high off it, high off you, of the power you allow him to take.

You reach a hand back holding onto him as he fucks you brutally, abusing your cervix with every hard hit of his cock, your a mess because of it. He knows you're close again as he lets go listening to you gulp down more air throwing you over your peak and he adores the feeling of you clamping down around him as you do, crying out for him over and over again. He doesn't take long to finally spill himself into you with a hard tug on your hair to push himself deeper, to make sure every drop stays inside. "I hope I get you pregnant." He leans down to kiss the side of your neck.

You lean into his touch as his cock twitches one last time. Neither of you move as he drags his lips over your shoulder gently sinking his teeth in to taste your sweat. He pulls out and tucks himself away allowing you the space to turn around and face him. You just smile and shake your head playfully at him as if you didn't want the same thing.

"Here," Coriolanus digs into his pocket pulling out a small vial. You eye the cloudy liquid knowing what it was; poison. "Just a few drops into his food or water." Your smile drips in sweetness as you take it. "Not tonight, it's too suspicious." He runs a finger through your hair. "Whenever you want to come home to me."

You kiss him as you pocket the vial.

The door opens a few seconds later. "Coriolanus." Felix pauses eyes flitting between the two of you taking in the damning sight.

"Oh Felix look at the beautiful flowers Coryo has brought us." You motion to the fresh vase you had set up at the center of the table.

"What are you doing here?" Felix swallows ignoring you.

You waved him away, "Oh I figured you would be happy to be having dinner with an old friend."

"How long have you been here?" Alone. But he won't ask that.

"A while." He smirks back.

Felix, wising up, finally looks down your body at the fresh trail of cum sliding down your thigh. His eyes hold fear to a situation he has no idea how to control. "I made pie." You disappear into the kitchen leaving the two of them alone to stare at one another. Coriolanus doesn't say anything, simply walks around the table to sit at the head of it, where he belonged. Felix sits across from him when you return as you began to set the food put, finally placing a sweet scented desert near the center. "Cherry...your favorite." Coriolanus finds his palm splayed against your waist, you glance at him as you straightened it, "Darling."

You move taking the seat to the right of Coriolanus foot rubbing up against his. "My favorite is apple." Felix corrects you, hand wrapped around a butter knife.

"Oops." Your smile is saccharine as you blink innocently.

After a tense dinner in which you deferred every veiled accusation shot your way, he knew Felix was far too aware to let it keep happening under his nose. It was only fair he allow the two of you to come see where Dr. Gaul and him worked, to prove his companionship to an old friend, to make up for his impropriety with said friend's future wife.

He never said the two of you had to come at the same time.

He knows the minute you walk through the lab doors, your hair half lightly pulled back with a pretty ribbon, wearing one of your tight skirts and white mock turtle neck, cherry candy in your mouth he would have no more of this arrangement.

No more, no more fiancée, no more hiding his claim on you. No more. He doesn't care if he has to kill all of Panem to keep you, he'll do it gladly. He'd force your hand to use the poison tonight.

You kiss his cheek the scent of you, the sugary taste, pulsed around him, heightening his senses, hardening his cock. You tuck your hand in his arm letting him walk with you. You took everything in like this was a sick version of an art gallery. He showed you around knowing you were only vaguely interested in the various creations held inside their tanks, talked about future plans for future games. He followed next to you, watching you peer into the cages of those muttations, tapping on the glass to watch them squirm. You belonged next to him, you knew that now more than ever. You looked so much better with him than you ever did with that pathetic excuse of a fiancée.

You pointed to the cages filled with black birds.

"Jabberjays." He followed you as you walked towards them. "They can memorize and repeat conversations."

You poked your finger through the bar, awe in your eyes. "This was how you did it." He stared at you as you glanced back at him realizing you knew he had incriminated Sejanus, how he had sent the poor boy to the hanging tree to get back here. In the place he once felt guilt sat validation, the lust in your eyes proving what he had done was right.

"How did you..." He should have suspected you knew, you were too close to the top to not know, too woven into the group of elites, but it still surprised him.

You only smiled as you watched one flare its wings out in alarm as your finger inched closer to it. "I went to Dr. Gaul a month after you left." Your lip pulled back in disgust, "Disgraced myself by begging her to let you return."

Heat ran through him, pounded in his blood as you glanced over at him, "Show me." He needed to see it, hear you say the words you said then.

You pulled your hand away from the birds turning to face him. You took his hands, then slowly you lowered yourself to the floor onto your knees raising your palms in supplication. "Please," You bowed your head. "Please let him come home to me." You never begged for anything, but you had begged for him. He keeps his eyes on you as you slowly looked up at him, his hand comes under your chin. It must have worked. He was set to be sent to District 2, but things had changed and he had come back. You climbed to your feet hands still holding his, "She said she always planned on letting you return, but you need to learn a lesson first." He knew you agreed with her, "And then one day she called me in, played the recording for me, said you were on your way back." Your body pressed into his, his hard cock aching at the friction, your whisper a caress onto his lips. "I came so hard that night imagining it, came so hard knowing my Coryo was clawing his way back to me."

He wants to ask why you didn't come running into his arms when he stepped off the platform, but it made sense why you didn't. You had wanted to see what he would do next, if he would submit to his woes, grovel in his defeat, or would he climb, would he take what was so rightfully his.

"And what would you have done if she hadn't let me return?" He asked needing to know, needing to know you burned for him the same.

Your eyes honed in on his face, "Anything."

"My sweet villain." He strokes a thumb down your cheek. "My darling angel."

"All for you."

He kisses you softly, delicately letting his mouth slide across yours tasting the sweetness you offered like a drug. Your tongue slips through, spit exchanged in unison, swallowing each other, fingers curling around his neck as you pulled him to you.

"Stop." Felix voice cuts across the room. "Enough." You take too long to peel your mouth away from Coriolanus, too long to slyly look at your fiancé. "You're leaving with me. Now."

"She doesn't want to go anywhere with you." Coriolanus sneered.

"Look," Felix sighed, "I have let this go on for far longer than it should have, I knew you didn't want to marry me and you wanted to rebel against that, I figured you'd grow out of this phase once we left the Academy." Your eye twitched, "Enough now, you're going to leave with me, and you'll end this affair before you embarrass us both."

You don't move.

Felix takes a single step forward out of frustration. "Do you even know what I've been protecting you against? He's a murderer, did you know that? He killed a tribute in the games, killed Sejanus too." Well at least he didn't know about Highbottom, or your father. "He'll kill you too, if it came down to it, if you got in his way."

"Right now Felix," Coriolanus glares. "You're the only one in my way."

Something like fear flares for a second as he takes another step forward. "He's using you! I read all his letters he tried to write you asking you to make someone bring him back here." He wants to feel upset you never received his soft hearted words, but maybe it was for the best you never saw that side of him. He glances at your face, a mask of cool indifference, but your eyes quivered for a single moment in wake of the lost news you would never have, and resentment fills your features. You finally began moving forward towards Felix, his demeanor began to relax as you listened but your steps fell silently violent. "I figured if he was sent to 12 he would be far enough away from you, we could finally be happy."

You stilled, "You."

"I had to!" He exclaimed, "He would have never stopped coming after you! I had to tell Highbottom he cheated, had to get him away from you." Everything. It was all Felix's fault, all of it was his fault. Coriolanus's eyes flared wide with unadulterated rage, he wanted to murder Felix with his bare hands, he wanted to tie him down and force him to watch as Coriolanus took you over and over again while he could do nothing but finish in his own pants because that was the type of scum Felix was. but he clenched his jaw, no he didn't want Felix to see you, he didn't want Felix to hear only what Coriolanus could hear, that was a better punishment, to never know what it was like to truly have you, and later tonight he would die with you standing over him.

"You disgust me."

"I was trying to protect you." Felix urged again as his hands came around you. "H-He's a monster."

"I made sure of it." Your smile was laced with venom as your hands wrapped around his forearms. "You always lacked a spine Felix Ravinstill, I knew that the minute your sweaty adolescent hand grabbed mine you were nothing but a weak little boy who had everything handed to him." You sighed, disappointed. "And I wanted a man."

His eyes flickered around your face, behind him water lapped from the wake the eels made in the small circular pool. "He's a liar and a cheat. He will never amount to anything more than that."

"Neither will you." You glanced over at Coriolanus. "Yes." You finally said a weight seeming to move off his chest, "I will marry you."

Felix scoffed hiding the shake of his breath, "You can't be serious. We're already engaged you would be a fool to call this off now. You're a woman with no education, no family, you'll be ruined."

"I am not a woman, I am a god." You took one step back fingers still grazing his forearms and from afar it would have looked affectionate, "I was born to marry the President of Panem, and you know what they say..." You stood in front of him and something in Felix's eyes shifted with realization.

"Snow lands on top."

You pushed watching as his body fell backwards towards the open pool. He was too far away to fall fully in so his back hit cement roughly, something cracking in his spine as one wrapped around his shoulder yanking him the rest of the way in his screams echoing around the room. You stood there watching as they swallowed his body deeper and deeper until he was nothing, then you tugged that ugly ring off your finger tossing it in after him.

He moved around the pool, avoiding the puddles of water made when his body had hit the water, until he's standing in front of you. He admires you for one second, one second to take in the calm look on your face in the wake of murder, the glow that seemed to settle around you as eels swam around your dead fiancée. Then he's moving, connecting your mouth, tongues melding with each other as he sealed his lips around yours finding heaven in your honeyed spit. He was crushing your against him as you twisted your hands into his shirt, pulling it out of his pants as he pushed the hem of your skirt up, needy, insatiable.

"You're a monster." He tells you the very thing he knew himself to be, kissing down your neck.

"And you love me for it." He does, but he'd never let you know that, never give you that kind of power over him.

The two of you are on the ground as he cups your ass, rolling your hip against his hard cock fighting with his pants. He can feel your arousal seeping down to his skin as you unbutton his pants, freeing him from restraint. You stroke him once, twice, three times before you lift up and sink down on-top of him. You slide down excruciatingly slow, letting him stretch and fill every inch of you. He watches your head fall back, your throat bob as the moan breaks loose, until your hips are flush against his.

He's reaching a hand out to go under your shirt and cup your breast as you take a shaky breath. Then you are moving, rolling your hips along him hand gripping at his chest.

"Look at you." He can't help it falling from his lips as he watches you ride him, watches you slide up and down his cock, kneading the flesh of your breast. "My angel."

You were an angel, God's favorite angel.

You would go by a different name now too.

"Mrs. Snow."

You moaned louder as his other hand found your clit between bodies rubbing circles into it as you fucked him faster chasing your own high. He digs his hand into your bra rolling your nipple between his fingers, thrusting his hips up to meet your own hitting the deepest parts of you. Your foot plants on the ground and you tilt forward, nails digging into his shoulders. He knows your close as your sweet breath pants into his face, as your lean down and swallow his mouth with your own whining down his throat.

"Cum for me." He nips at your bottom lip. "Come on, be a good girl and cum on my cock."

He feels you clamp down around him, crying out his name as your orgasm washes over you still moving up and down his hard length in a lazy motion riding yourself out on him. He grips your hips and flips you over pushing your leg up to his shoulder spreading your other knee out to open you up.

He pounds into your wet cunt the lewd slapping sound overtaking the small wake of waves in the pool beside you. You grip his arms as he forces your body against his, thrusting roughly into you as you fall apart within his hands. You claw down his chest, completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you, and his hand finds your throat and you love how harsh he could be with you. You had both changed in your time apart, or maybe there was no point in hiding the darkness after everything you'd done for each other.

"No more games." He hisses out with each brutal snap of his hips. "You're mine now." He hooks his fingers in your bottom jaw opening it wide, and then he spits down your throat. "Fucking say it." He lets his fingers slide off as you leave your lips parted for him to spit into your mouth again moaning for it, for him.

"Yours." You nod fervently lapping up his saliva, arching your back, "I'm yours Coryo." A second orgasm hits you, squeezing around him too tightly. He slams into you one last time before cumming deep, fucking all of it into you letting your legs fall numbly around him. "It was all for you anyways." You whisper once he stills letting him brush stray hair away from your glistening flushed face. "The games...I only played them for you."

He leans down, "Well I guess that makes you a victor too." He kisses you gently feeling your arms wrap around his neck. After a few minutes, he pulls out of you tucking himself back in his pants and helping you to your feet.

You glance down at the calming waters no ounce of remorse there for not taking the quieter route of poison. He thinks a violent end was more fitting too, for all that Felix had put the two of you through. You wave your hand around, "You need to delete the footage." You're moving bending down towards one of the puddles. "Before anyone sees, we'll say he tripped or whatever." You flash a wicked grin, "Another accident darling."

You stick your hand into one of the puddles and splash it onto your face. You stand up and start screaming. "Help! Please!" You wail running towards the door. "Please he fell in! He's dying!" He was dead the second he fell in but you don't let on to that. You shoot him a look, "Go."

He's stands there in awe of you, but what else is new.

Then he's moving heading to the computer to edit the footage of you murdering your fiancée to be with Coriolanus Snow.

You move in a week later after all the funerals and arrangements were made. You came in the cover of darkness keeping a low profile regarding your new life; he didn't blame you for wanting to, best to let the dust settle to avoid looking suspicious.

He watches you in his bed, dawn's sunlight peeking through curtains as you sprawl out under rumpled sheets. You're beautiful, like a fallen angel from the heavens dropped onto his mattress just for him.

His hand runs down your spine feeling the sleepy groan rumble up your back as you turn to look at him. "My whole life all I've ever wanted was to wake up next to you." It's too soft he knows, he'll blame the lack of sleep due to fucking you through the night. He kisses your naked shoulder, fingers tracing the golden necklace that held a small 'C' on it, "I almost lost you."

"You almost did." You agree knowing you had almost turned your back on him, let him slip away to wallow in his mistakes.

"Never again," He mutters into your skin.

"I'll take that ring now." You purred into his ear.

He sits up digging into his bedside table fetching out the ring box, and opening it up for you. He plucks it out to slid onto your finger perfectly, watching you admire it with a certain sweetness he only could associate with you. "Mrs. Snow." He caresses your cheek, "First Lady of Panem."

You smile up at him, "I like the sound of that, Mr. President."

THE END

endnotes: omg hi thank you all so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed reading!!! i truly believe all the nice comments on part one gave me performance anxiety about this so hoping it meets everyones standards 😭😭

taglist: @ryswritingrecord , @aoi-targaryen , @urfavnoirette , @sleepysongbirdsings

[laracrofted]

supernova

synopsis: in a game of truth or dare, you reveal your dream threesome.

pairings: natasha trace x fem!reader x bob floyd

warnings: 18+ minors dni, ageless blogs that interact will be blocked, explicit smut (f/f/m threesome, oral sex, unprotected sex, blink and miss it choking, sort of dom phoenix, edging, cum eating, orgasm denial, overstimulation) and like, swearing lmao (wc: 3.2K)

notes: a little something something for my fellow bisexuals during pride month 🌈 and yes, i defeated awful writer's block with horniness and so can you 💖

much love to @sushiwriterhere @theharddeck @sometimesanalice and @roosterbruiser for letting me bounce many depraved thoughts off of them and i'm summoning a few people who might be interested: @princessphilly @seresinsweetie @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @bradshawsbitch @i-wanna-be-your-muse @sebsxphia and also no one look at me

“Anyone would want to sleep with me. I’m the most fuckable person in this room. Ask anyone.”  

"What's Hangman so up in arms about now?" Phoenix asks, sounding unimpressed. She leans against the pool cue, waiting for Fanboy to make his shot, and cracks her knuckles with one hand.

You shrug. "Who knows."

Honestly, you can't even remember who made the comment that got him so worked up, so defensive over his own sex appeal. His general fuckability – which as a side note, you're pretty sure is not a real word.

Maybe Rooster, actually probably Rooster.

Regardless, Hangman has decided to make them all suffer the consequences, going on and on and on.

"Fine," Rooster manages, choking down a laugh, almost always given away in the unmistakable twitching of the overgrown ferret on his upper lip. "Go ahead. Ask anyone then, Hangman. This will be good."

You are minding your own goddamn business in the corner of the common room, sipping a canned red wine that isn't half bad for the price. It is sweet, a little bubbly, pleasant.

You press your lips against the cool edge and are in the middle of a sip when Hangman catches your eye, a sharklike gleam in his green eyes.

Is it worse to make eye contact or break it? Is that bears or sharks who see it as a challenge?

And in truth, Hangman is neither. He's more or less harmless with a sometimes sharp bite.

You lower the can, slow and suspicious, narrowing your eyes at him with a raised brow. “Can I help you, Hangman?”  

Smirking, Hangman drawls, “You owe me a truth from earlier, ain't that right? You ran out on the game before I could get my question out."

You roll out a red carpet of curses in your brain and swallow another mouthful of the sweet red wine.

You'd gotten a call from the Domino's driver to come down and grab the pizzas from the front door before Hangman could ask whatever pointed – and alarmingly observant – question had popped into his scheming brain.

Everyone else has forgotten the game with some pizza in their stomach and a basketball game on the big screen, but clearly, Hangman has a good memory. Bastard. 

"Fine. Hit me with your best shot, Hangman."

Fire away and all that.

His canines are gleaming white. "Who would you most want to have sex with in this room? No, wait, I should give everyone a fair chance of selection. Pick two."

"Together? Or separate?"

His brows raise, and Hangman's smirk deepens. "Well, damn. Someone's a little adventurous." Your eyes are practically slits now, staring him down. "Together. Who would you have a threesome with in this room? And unfortunately, no, I don't have a twin."

“My nightmare,” Phoenix mutters, and Fanboy shakes with silent laughter.

“Hmmm…” 

An answer had popped into your head the second that Hangman asked, but in the name of suspense, you pretend to mull it over and really contemplate.

You look around the room. Halo and Fritz are on the sagging couch with Yale and Harvard in the opposite chairs, watching the game too closely to overhear this cursed conversation.

Bob and Fanboy are strategizing in the corner, but Bob is definitely listening. His shoulders don't look quite natural.

Across the pool table, Payback shows you his wedding band with a faux scolding expression. You grin.

“I guess I'd have to pick... Phoenix and Bob."

Rooster absolutely crows with laughter as Hangman goes into a full control-alt-delete shut down and reboot, blankly staring at you with disbelieving eyes and a slack jaw.

Someone should commemorate this moment. Add it to one of the frames in the Ready Room. 

"Are you malfunctioning?" You drain the rest of the wine and drop the can into the nearest recycling bin. "You know I'm bisexual, right, Hangman?"

"But Phoenix and Bob?" Hangman splutters, as if recovering from an ordeal with a capital O. "I need the reason. Why would you pick them?"

You glance over at Phoenix, who is regarding both of them with a smug smirk. You don't dare look at Bob right now.

You smile, radiant and knowing, with a “Follow up questions aren’t part of the game, Hangman,” and breeze across the room for another can of wine, patting him on the shoulder.

"So..."

Five or so minutes later, Phoenix sidles up to you and sits on the arm of your chair, ignoring the perfectly good and empty chair in the corner. Her boot brushes against your leg.

She leans in, and Phoenix's familiar vanilla and amber scent washes over you.

"Am I allowed to ask a follow question?" A nod, and Phoenix looks kind of self-satisfied. Kind of smug. "Did you mean it? Or were you just kicking the chair out from under Hangman? Because..." She lowers her voice, all smoke and velvet. "I had fun with you before. Just us."

"Both..." You pause. "I kind of wanted to knock him on his ass, but also, I was very much serious."

Her smile widens, and Phoenix leans in more, brushing the shell of your ear in a puff of warm breath. "Meet me in my room in 20 minutes."

Her canine grazes your earlobe for a brief second.

You blink, dazed, and Phoenix is already walking away.

"What about...?"

What about Bob? is the question on the tip of your tongue, but obviously, you can't call that out in this room. He is still here somewhere.

She looks over her shoulder, dark eyes warm with want and promise, and mouths, "20," with a wink.

A little over 20 minutes later, Phoenix has your wrists pinned down on her soft sheets, nudging under your chin with her slender nose in search of the sensitive spot on the side of your neck.

Her bottom lip drags against it.

You bite down on a moan, and in retaliation, Phoenix bites the spot harder.

"I want to hear you," Phoenix murmurs, an order wrapped in a pretty bow. "You sound so pretty, angel."

She kisses you again and sucks your bottom lip between hers, making it impossible to bite down on.

And with intent, Phoenix slides a smooth thigh between your legs, dragging her knee against the red flash of fabric that covers your cunt and grinds down.

"Come on. Let me hear you."

A drawn out moan escapes your mouth, and right then, Bob walks in.

He closes the door behind him, oblivious, and then, spots you both and freezes.

"Phoenix?" Bob manages, sounding uncertain. His eyes are wide and blue behind the wire frames. "You said 30 minutes, right? Should I – I can come back. We can catch up another time."

Despite the words, Bob doesn't move. He looks down, cheeks pink and flushed, but doesn't move.

"Don't worry, Bob." Phoenix releases your arms and climbs over the edge of the mattress with a smile. Walks over to him in an electric blue bra and underwear set that looks downright radiant against her dark hair. 

She looks like a goddess. 

"You want him here, don't you, angel?"

She circles behind him, sliding the plaid button-down shirt from his broad shoulders. It crumples to the carpet without resistance as Bob raises his chin and meets your eyes.

"You told me before," Phoenix prompts. "Tell him."

He is watching you, waiting on your answer with bated breath.

A long breath releases from your mouth. 

You push up on your elbows, then your knees, wanting to see him more clearly.

“Earlier with Hangman… I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted both of you. I want you – both of you – to fuck me."

His Adam’s apple moves as Bob swallows, sudden and hard.

He looks surprised. He shouldn't be.

He's always felt a little out of reach, so damn nice. You didn’t want to freak him out – or worse, offend him with a casual invitation to very casually fuck your brains out and maybe, let you suck his cock before or afterward.

You’re not picky. Whatever works for him.

You were pretty sure Bob was at least a little interested, but now... Bob only stares.

Phoenix gives him a gentle push and strolls over to the record player. She looks casual and languid, flipping through the records, but you're not so fooled. She's giving him a moment alone with you.

"Phoenix and I have... before, but I want you as much as I want her. Do you want me? is the only question, I guess."

He coughs into his elbow, messing with his lenses, which are fogging every so slightly. "I do. You're very pretty and nice, and I've... I mean, I do want you."

A smile dimples your cheek. "Oh, I'm pretty and nice, am I?"

"Shut up," Bob mutters under his breath with a slight smile. His ears are a little red.

You reach out and pull him closer to the mattress, pulling until Bob has to plant a knee on the edge to keep his balance. He watches you with wide eyes and says your name in a rush of breath – like a sharp wind over the ocean – and leans in, gravitating.

He cups your chin, slow and careful, pulling you in for a slow kiss that fizzles in your bloodstream like champagne. He is still giving you ample time to pull back and change your mind.

You deepen the kiss, even as Bob holds back.

You're still not sure Bob believes you.

Music swells from the corner, slow and sultry and sensual, as Phoenix settles behind you. She unlatches your bra and pushes it from your shoulders, running her fingers in soothing circles over the muscles.

She reaches between you and him, moving to cup your breasts, but at the last second, Phoenix skims her hand down the curve of your stomach and down and down, dipping under the waistband of your panties.

Clever fingers glide through your wetness, glancing off your clit in a tease that makes you whimper into Bob's mouth. A satisfied hum vibrates your back.

"So wet already, darling. We haven't done anything other than kiss you. You must really want us," Phoenix murmurs, warm against your ear, licking the sensitive patch of your neck again. "Come here, Bob."

She pulls you back from him with a hand around your throat – squeezing once, hard enough to make you feel light all over – and puts her glistening fingers in his open mouth.

His moan makes you even wetter.

You watch, breathless, as Bob closes his eyes and licks your taste from her fingers. His pupils are blown, eyes almost black, when Bob opens his eyes again.

His groan against your mouth is a rough sound, drawn out and unrepentant. He kisses you like religion, like a prayer.

Phoenix's voice is smug in your ear. "He believes me now."

You've been paired with Bob and Phoenix on enough exercises to know that the Naval aviators are an unstoppable pair in the air, cutting through the skies with grace and precision.

You'd imagined – more than once – that Bob and Phoenix would be an unstoppable pair in the bedroom as well. Sue you, okay? Who wouldn't?

Phoenix had been a force on her own, pinning you down and making your thighs shake over her shoulders; coaxing you to the edge and kicking you over without warning with a razor sharp smile that bordered on mean.

Bob always seemed so quiet. Seemed so unassuming.

But Bob dated, and on the one and only occasion the WSO brought a date back to the shared apartment complex, all of the Daggers had heard about the dying cat sounds that'd been loud enough to bleed through the walls. Hangman had been relentless.

You were seemingly the only one who could put the admittedly horrendous moaning aside and remember the other sounds.

(Oh, oh, Bob, oh, Bob. Fuck me. So good.)

You knew Phoenix was good in bed.

You had a feeling about Bob.

Together?

You were absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt right.

Phoenix is in the backseat for once but never ever on the sidelines. She seems to sense that the WSO might still need more reassurance, might need some control to feel wanted here.

She focuses on you, nibbling your neck and pinching your aching nipples, as Bob rests on the red and orange pillows, watching you swallow his cock, mesmerized.

You pull back, keeping him half in your mouth and circling his base with your hands, and run your tongue along the sensitive underside of him.

He bobs in your mouth, letting out a rough curse.

"Are you sure?" Bob had asked before, stilling the hands that were reaching for his zipper, running a thumb across the veins at the base of your wrist. "We can start with something else. I don't want you to feel pressure."

"Positive. I've wanted to suck your cock for about six months now."

He blinked, looking even more owlish with his glasses on the nightstand. "Six months? You've only been here for like six months."

You cut in, "And I wanted to suck your cock the whole damn time. Any other questions?"

He audibly swallowed, and Phoenix grinned.

You could easily get lost in him – lose minutes, even hours with the weight of him on your tongue and the sound of his broken moans in your ears – but Phoenix is too impatient to let that happen.

She nudges your soaked underwear to the side and pushes one, two, three of her fingers inside of you. You're wet enough that Phoenix doesn't meet any resistance.

"She's so fucking wet for you, Bob. Jesus Christ," Phoenix moans. A wet kiss is pressed into the curve of your shoulder, against the nape of your neck. "Should I make her come?"

God... and Phoenix says it like, What do you think, Bob? Am I clear? Should I take the shot?, in the same voice from the air. Asking him to weigh the pros and cons. Deferring to his decision.

You'll never be able to be paired with them on a drill again and not remember.

You would breathe a sigh of relief when Bob nods, except for... well, obvious reasons. You swallow around him, and Bob leaks against the back of your throat.

You're already aching, and Phoenix is pressing the heel of her palm against your clit. Pleasure is building in the pit of your stomach, and you need, you need, you –

"Or..." Phoenix drawls, easing up on the pressure, all casual and unaffected. She works you open, steady and constant, pinching the thigh that tries to rock you against her hand. "I could edge her for you. Make her wait to come on your cock."

God, Phoenix can be mean in bed. You'd almost forgotten.

You kind of hate her for it right now.

(You really don't.)

You whimper around Bob's cock and clench around Phoenix's fingers at the same time, digging your nails into the pale skin of Bob's muscular thighs, already bruised with a small love bite from earlier.

An abrupt fuck spills from Bob's bitten lips.

He pulls out of your mouth without warning, squeezing a hand around his base and screwing his eyes closed to keep from coming right then and there.

"Jesus Christ, Phoenix."

"So Bob seems to like that idea," Phoenix observes, almost conspiratorially. Her fingers catch your chin. "What about you, pretty girl? You want to come now or on Bob's cock?"

You are a little out of breath but no less certain.

"Do I even have to answer that?"

As a reward, Phoenix slips her tongue in your mouth and starts all over again, ever careful to pull back at the exact right moment when your breaths are short and your gaze is glassy and unfocused.

You are shaking and warm all over when Phoenix is satisfied, running her fingers through the arousal that slicks the inside of your thighs, underwear long discarded on the floor somewhere now.

"Can I..."

You are on your back now, and Bob leans over and sucks your nipples in his mouth. You lose focus, running your fingers over the hard length of him, smearing his pre-cum over the head.

"Can you what?" Phoenix prompts, ghosting a knuckle over your swollen clit. You quiver.

"I want to eat you out. Didn't get to do that last time, remember?"

You seize Bob's shoulder, keeping him pressed against your chest, and Bob makes a pleased sound, content to lavish your breasts with licks and nibbles right now.

You continue, "I want to eat you out while Bob fucks me."

"Well," Phoenix replies, breezily, brushing her hair over her shoulder and bends to suck on your other nipple. "We can probably make that work."

"Fuck," Bob breathes again.

You've never heard him curse so much, not even in actual missions.

A content sigh pushes everything else from your brain.

You lick at Phoenix again, licking a stripe up the center of her cunt, drowning in the warmth and silk, as Bob pushes into you from behind, bare and hard and so goddamn big.

Fuck is right.

"God..." Bob moans against your damp skin, pulling out and easing back in again. His accent comes out in bits and pieces, smoothing the edges from his words. "Feel so good. S'good for me. So good for us, darlin'."

You melt at the praise and nuzzle deeper into Phoenix with a sigh of pleasure, circling her clit with a content hum that makes her breath go all uneven and shuddering.

Satisfaction slides down your spine, warm and consuming.

You could stay here for hours between them. You would.

She's quick to instruct and correct, but once you're in a rhythm with your fingers hooked inside, Phoenix is nothing but moans and sighs and oh god, so good, oh god.

She comes in your mouth with a sharp gasp and rolls out from under you, which leaves Bob with enough room to double his efforts now.

He presses praise against your neck, circling his fingers around your clit with precision and attention; urging you to come for him with gentle pleas and deep thrusts and blissfully, a well-placed palm against your aching cunt.

You shatter around him as Bob spills inside of you.

Oh my god are the only words that are forming in your head right now. You want to say something else.

Holy shit maybe.

We should definitely do that again even.

But Phoenix doesn't give you even a second of peace.

"You're a mess, angel," Phoenix comments, light and almost mocking. She spreads your legs wide and looks you over. "Let me."

You expect Phoenix to wipe you down, but instead, Natasha presses her mouth against your sensitive cunt.

Stars erupt in your vision. Galaxies.

She licks and licks every inch of you, holding down your shaking legs, until you come again, damn near crying from the overstimulation, shuddering.

Wetness dampens the sheets underneath you, and Phoenix licks the cum that drips down your legs, some yours, some Bob's, and kisses you right on the mouth.

You definitely mean to get your clothes and pee and everything after, but Bob is warm against your side. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and passes out with an arm across your chest.

Sleep pulls you under soon after.

Phoenix is the first one to leave the bed and even then, only to put on a quieter record and go right back.

note: is she the filthiest smut piece i've ever written? maybe. she's named after red wine supernova by chappell roan, which is so fun and so queer and worth a listen 💖 leave a comment before i regain an ounce of shame.

[asapeveryday]

We Have Now

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader

Warnings: lil bit of angst, suggestive content

Summary: The season is over, the seniors have graduated and the summer has begun. The future holds a lot of uncertainty, but your feelings for Nika have never been uncertain. Is it too late for you?

A/n: I just can’t resist summer themed fics. Also I’m ngl this is NOTT my best work so I’m sorry for that… enjoy anyways.

“Holy shit!”

Through the window of your bedroom you can see the sunset has turned outside an entrancing mix of tropical colours. Pink, purple, orange and yellow mix in the clouds and paint the world around you for a moment, and you know you need to see it up close.

You rush down the stairs and past the living room, where the rest of the team is sleeping on the couch with a movie on in the background.

It had been a long day for everyone, the team had planned to spend a couple days of July at an airbnb in Rhode Island back in February, and the plan thankfully took off.

The day had been filled with a long car ride, various TikToks, loud music, unpacking, swimming and barbecuing. Everyone was exhausted.

When you rush out to the deck you’re encapsulated by the scenery. Sunsets were beautiful, but even better by the beach. The white sand and deep ocean water against the rich setting sky was something out of a book.

After taking about a hundred photos and videos, you put your phone away and just stood in astonishment.

Playing basketball with these girls at Uconn was one of the biggest blessings you’d ever received in your life, and you were going to miss them so much. You often found yourself swimming in old memories at night, memories of locker room conversations, late night drives, shared playlists, loud Friday night parties, shared looks, useless yearning and post game tears.

You’d already gone through your sad feelings at graduation though, and the draft had brought some more light to the situation. You had no regrets whatsoever about your college career, except for maybe one thing. And that thing was on the beach right now.

Nika was laying on the sand, just far enough from the ocean to avoid getting hit by the high tide. She didn’t say anything when you laid down beside her, the both of you just stared at the darkening sky as the sound of waves filled the silence.

“Remember how different things were when we first met?” You finally say after some time.

Nika quietly laughs. “How could I forget?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Gosh, I thought you were so weird.”

“You were weirder.” She grumbles.

“You just thought all Americans were weird.”

“Because you guys are! I never saw so many overly confident basketball players who were so bad till’ I came here.”

The two of you laugh together for a moment, then it’s quiet again.

Your hand is excruciatingly close to hers, but neither of you move closer.

“Everything’s so different now.” Nika mumbles, almost to herself.

You turn your head to face her. Nika’s side profile is strong, prominent nose, perfect lips, sharp eyebrows and expressive eyes. Her cheeks are pink from being out in the sun. You have the urge to make them pinker, but you shake the thought away.

“Yeah. Everything is different…but that’s a good thing”

Nika nods solemnly, but you can tell she’s thinking hard.

“Niks, don’t worry too much okay? Things work out if they’re meant to.”

She brings a hand to her face, covering her eyes and muffling her voice, which slightly wavers when she says. “What if I don’t make it?”

With this you give in and take her hand, squeezing it tight for a moment.

“Baby they’re lucky to have you. One day with you and they’ll know you’re needed on that team. Everyone else knows it for sure.”

“Says who?” Her eyebrows furrow. “I can’t just assume this’ll work out. What if it doesn’t? What the fuck do I do then? All my work will have been for nothing.”

“If Seattle doesn’t see you as an asset to their team, then I assure you there’ll be another team just waiting for you. Everyone here knows how valuable you are as a player, and the internet wouldn’t let anyone forget.”

She isn’t very convinced, but she turns her head to meet your gaze. Her eyes remind you of a puppies eyes. “Thank you.” She says, sincere and slightly embarrassed. Her hand is still in yours and your noses are almost touching. You wonder if she’d ever talk to you again if you kissed her.

At the thought of that, your stomach sinks. You sit up suddenly, hand breaking from hers. You don’t see how her face drops when you do it.

“I-“ you start, but hesitate. You didn’t want to regret anything like this again. You wanted her to know every thought in your head, even if it had a chance of going sour. “I’m really gonna miss you Nika. More than anyone else, I think.” You finally manage to get out.

She sits up now too, her brown hair blowing in the salty wind, her almost hazel eyes glinting from the reflection of the water, or perhaps something else, something like hope.

“More than anyone else?” She questions you.

“Yeah.” You say, turning to meet her stare. “I’ve always liked you more than the others.”

“Hm.” She says, as if she was expecting more.

The silence is eating at you, you just want to scream out how badly you want her. You know it’s too late, when this trip is over everyone splits. You to your hometown, Aaliyah to Washington, Nika to Seattle, Paige and the others to Connecticut. Still, you didn’t want to live with this in you forever.

“I had a massive crush on you during freshman year.” You utter as confidently as possible.

Nika’s lips part in surprise “You- you did?”

“Yeah. Major.” You scoff. Those days were almost pathetic in hindsight, obvious to everyone but Nika and yourself.

You watch as Nika draws swirls in the sand with her finger. You can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

“And…when did this crush fade away?” She finally asks you.

You let a beat pass before sucking it up and saying. “It didn’t.”

Nika’s eyes really widen now. You hold her gaze as best as you can. “I never stopped liking you. It just got stronger overtime, actually.”

You almost recoil when she scowls at you.

“Fuck you.”

“What?”

“Fuck!” She rubs her face, exasperated. “You- urgh, I wish you told me. I wish you told me way, way earlier.”

You don’t say anything.

“I wish I knew. Don’t you get it?” She whines, almost pleadingly. “God, if you’d told me way earlier we could’ve…maybe we would’ve..” she trails off.

Finding out that Nika Mühl, your best friend and longest love, also loved you should’ve been the best moment of your life. Instead it had you thinking of everything that could’ve been.

“I was scared.” You mutter. “I was so, so scared, I don’t know why. I wish I’d just told you, but you know me. I never take chances. I pass the ball, I don’t make the shot. I just…I wouldn’t have been able to take it if you didn’t feel the same. So I never did anything.”

She’s close to you now, hand on your knee, face flushed.

“What are we gonna do?”

You stare at her face, eyes darting from her eyes, then lips, the her eyes again.

Her eyes are beautiful. Honey brown, golden in the sun but piercing now at dusk, eyelashes long and fluttering as she tries to make sense of this situation.

You’ve wanted her more than you’ve wanted that ring at the end of the National Tournament every single year. The thought of you wasting time that could’ve been spent pressed next to her, skin to skin and soul to soul? It was sickening to you.

Still, here she was. Eyes begging you for something you’ve dreamed of. The sky now staining the beach a violent pink.

When your mouth meets hers it’s everything you’ve fantasized about. Her lips are full and soft, fitting perfectly against your own. You can feel her lashes tickle your face as you tilt your head just right, her arms get goosebumps when you fiddle with her hair.

Pulling away from her, you can’t help but melt at the satisfied smile on her face.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Nika says. “I just wish it could’ve happened earlier.”

“I’m tired of wishing.” You say, putting a hand on her face gently. “We can’t change anything now. It’s over. But we have today.”

She drinks in the feeling of being this close to you. “We have now.” Nika whispers.

Your kisses are sweet and chaste at first, but it’s getting colder out and you need her warmth. She changes the pace, clashing into you with a sense of urgency now. When her mouth slightly opens and you feel her tongue against yours you know it’s over for you. She can have whatever she wants.

Nika finds herself straddling you now, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything that’s happening.

After four years of thinking of her before bed, before letting your hands take care of yourself night after night to the thought of her, here she was in all her glory. Body toned and breathing hard, hair sprawled against her tan skin, fingers untying her bikini top.

She leans into you, but instead of kissing you she puts her mouth to your ear. You can feel her smirk against your skin.

“How much of the past four years do you wanna bet I can make up for in one night?

[targaryenluvs]

BREAKUPS & MAKEUPS

pairing: finnick odair x fem!victor!reader

summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you breakup or makeup? again?

warnings: major flirting, TEARS, confrontation, mentions of cheating and rumours, insinuations, heavy tension and make outs, miscommunication and my terrible descriptions of make outs?? inappropriate talks n teasing, motherly mags

word count: 2.1k

a/n: old married couple bickering is my fav NOT PROOFREAD

you’d hoped you’d never see him again, only on screens and what not. but of course you’d get fucked over like this. ignoring him in the training quarters was one thing but the arena?

you were angry. so was everyone else in the room of course. rather than lashing out at people you figured channeling your energy into training was a much better outlet.

the daggers in your hands were nothing but iconic. you felt like you were in your own games again. having them in your hands felt, odd, but familiar. like a distant memory in the back of your mind. but it was muscle memory when it came to training as you stood upright. your arm retracted back and launched forwards, again and again.

“what’d the target do to you?” the dreaded voice you’d been hoping to avoid under all measures, and he was right behind you. “finnick, to what do i owe the pleasure?” he looked down at the floor and then back at you before grinning, “felt you were missing me, and perhaps my face would reinvigorate your training.” you smiled sweetly, and he could tell it was fake. as much as you hated it, the two of you knew eachother all too well.

“you were wrong but great guess. see you around.” you placed the remaining daggers down and made your way to move around him but he held his hand out, placing it against a wall and blocking your path. “come on honey, talk to me.” you raised your hand and patted his cheek, “i’d rather not.” you smiled at him again before ducking underneath his arm.

he reclined his head back and groaned. were you seriously going to ignore him this whole time?

your feet pounded against the rocky shore as you reached the cornicopia and headed for your daggers and sword. of course a heavy sword wasn’t always the most practical, but you’d trained with it for so long it was more than easy to use. you may be small but you sure as hell weren’t weak. but one look at finnick, with wet hair, dripping down and his arms flexing as he picked up his trident sent your head into spiral.

“sweetheart you know i love it when you stare but right now is not the time.” you scoffed, “whatever, now duck.” the dagger you released went right through a tribute behind finnick as katniss approached you both, taking note of finnicks gold bracelet and your golden necklace.

“good thing we’re allies right?” finnick grinned whilst showing off his bracelet. “where did you get your jewellery?” katniss was not in the mood to play around, neither were you since you saw finnicks face. just your luck, you were in the same alliance as him. “where do you think?” you and finnick spoke in unison as you threw an annoyed glance his way. copycat.

“where’s your fiancé?” you asked as finnick walked past the two of you and around the corner before yelling out to the pair of you that mags had found him.

as much as you’d rather move on and away from them you stayed. when finnick didn’t resurface you held your breath, he was okay right? he was an amazing swimmer, there’s no way he’d drown or anything. the sigh you let out when he came back to land was too big for your liking and even he could tell you were relieved.

“i knew you still cared about me.” finnick laughed as you all walked through the jungle. “you never stop talking do you? you were always the chatty one.” you wanted to tear out his eyes, or his tongue. all you wanted was to walk in peace and you knew he’d never let that happen. he wouldn’t stop staring at you and you hated it, he loved doing it since he knew it always got you flustered.

you were his entertainment source.

“well someone had to be. you usually only talked to a few people. but you always talked to me, especially when we were in bed.”

“god you’re so inappropriate.”

“you like inappropriate. i remember a captiol dinner party and a bathroom-”

“shush!” you whisper-yelled as he laughed again.

“did you two use to date or something?” peeta asked as he chopped away at the greenery. your dramatic sigh and slumped shoulders gave you away, “sadly, yes.” finnick bumped your arm with his, “it wasn’t all bad. we were quite the pair if i do say so myself.” you waved him off as you continued to walk.

“you’re a bit red in the face there.” your hand reached up as you subconsciously touched your face to gage your temperature. “am i? who would’ve thought a hot rainforest would overheat someone especially after they haven’t drunk water in a while.” you stated the obvious whilst finnick raised his eyebrows, “only reason you have?” you breathed in and out before facing his way,

“yes.”

you could practically feel his amusement and you saw him nodding along. “you are quite literally one of the most hydrated people i know. you’d always remind me to hydrate and there’s no way you didn’t drink water beforehand and you care about your self a lot.”

“how on earth do you make teasing someone so nice and why the hell do you remember all that?” finnick shrugged, “i remember things about people i like.” you smiled, “oh. that’s sweet.”

“especially the gorgeous ones.” and he was back.

you rolled your eyes again, “of course you’d say that. your voice does my head in, i’m going to walk with someone i actually like.” you emphasised on the last word as you quickened your pace to match mags.

“oh don’t be sour sweetie.” finnick teased as you flicked him the finger. mags noticed and pinched your cheek, “ow! okay okay, i’m sorry.” peeta laughed and so did katniss, it was like watching two kids be chastised by their own mother.

katniss was on night watch and you were wide awake. this certainly wasn’t how you were expecting to see finnick again, let alone sleep with him. well next to him. turns out he wasn’t either.

as much as his presence and speech exuded confidence his mind was hazy. being so near to you, talking to you and being with you. it was driving him crazy. and as much as he joked and teased, all he wanted was to be with you again. he thought you wanted anything but. “can’t sleep?” damn him and his observant self. “mhm, you?” he turned his head your way and you looked to his. “why’d you cheat on me?” you blurted out at him and as soon as you saw his eyebrows furrow you wanted to drown yourself in the water.

he sat up immediately and you did too. “cheat? what’re you talking about y/n/n?” it was your turn to be confused, “my friends old me about the rumours. that you got with some girl from four whilst i was in the captiol for adrenias wedding.” about three years ago it was your favourite stylists third wedding and she would not take a no for an answer. “i never- who told you that? amelia?” of course he’d randomly remember things about you, and the people around.

“no- maybe- yes. it really did hurt me. if you didn’t want to be with me anymore you should’ve just said something to me rather than cheating on me finn.” his breath hitched at his nickname and he couldn’t help but admire you.

even if you were all tired out and sweaty you looked as gorgeous as he remembered. your hair was tied up per usual, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were teary. finnick couldn’t help but remember how much he still loved you. he’d never cheated on you, he would and will never cheat on you. you were one of the few people in his life he truly cared for and he lost you. it was one thing for the two of you to break up but he never knew why.

you’d stopped talking to him or sending correspondence via letter. every time he reached out to talk to you or meet you, finnick was met with excuses. somehow he was never able to walk over to your house at the right time. in the mornings you’d be asleep and he wouldn’t want to wake you. the afternoons meant you were visiting friends, shopping for groceries, working in town, teaching kids to fish. you loved your district and you hated being alone in the house. your parents lived in their own home and worked in a job they liked. your siblings were happily married and after breaking up with finnick you were practically alone.

and so was finnick.

you didn’t mean to get emotional but you’d never ever fully gotten over it, over him.

having him infront of you and listening to you when you never had the courage to tell him about what you’d heard was oddly horrifying. the idea of listening to his side of the story? he was an annoying ass you wanted to leave behind but something about his expression let you know that there was something wrong.

finnick grabbed your chin to have you looking at him before holding your hands. “i never cheated on you y/n.”and there it was, your relationships saving grace. “but- the rumours?” you were crying and he was tearing up, “you broke up with me over rumours? we wasted three years of our lives because you-” his voice broke and yours was wavering. you clutched onto his hands, as if he would slip away without. “i’m so sorry finn, i always felt like you deserved someone better than me. everyone loves you and i felt like i couldn’t be the girl you wanted. when amelia told me i felt like it was an opening, i didn’t want to hold you back.”

you looked like a trainwreck but finnick couldn’t care less, he had the girl of his dreams back in his arms again and he’d be damned if let you go again.

“y/n you are everything i’ve ever wanted. when you stopped talking to me i thought i did something wrong.” you shook your head immediately, “no you didn’t it was all me.” finnicks hands were on your face as he leaned his forehead against yours, “i would never cheat on you and i never did. i love you y/n, i’ve loved you for so long and when you wouldn’t talk to me i didn’t know what to do, i was lost and it felt like the only light in my life was gone. i promise i’ll get you out of here, i promise.”

the kiss was desperate and heated and everything you’d ever wanted. his hands were frantic and roaming, muscle memory, his grip was iron tight on your waist as he pushed you onto the ground as he separated from you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he muttered as he kissed you again and moved to your neck as your hands tangled in his hair. the salty smell of him was nothing short of home.

finnick was your home and you’d navigated your way back to him and he had to you. two lost wanders finding solace and comfort in a kindred soul, a fairytale ending.

the one you both deserved.

the shuffling in the distance and katniss announcing the fog brought you out of paradise but not before one last kiss.

“i missed you.” you whispered as he grinned,

“i know.”

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

Nameless Ghouls X Angel!Reader Headcanons

These are headcanons of how you - an angel - would meet the ghouls, and them realizing you were their mate.

Ghouls included: Dewdrop, Rain, Mountain, Swiss, Aether, Phantom, Cirrus, Cumulus, Sunshine, Aurora (if you want other ghouls, feel free to request)

Warnings: Injuries, mentions of blood

Notes: So these are a bit long, but I'm also going to make this into a series - read here on Ao3 - once the little stories have been written, I'll link them to each ghoul and put a color on each name, so you'll know who has a little story written

Dewdrop

You disguised yourself as a ghoul to get close to the Church, saying that you were a ghoul from another ministry sent to help around.

Once in, you met Dewdrop.

He was already suspicious, but he recognized you as his mate immediately. Thank Lucifer his mate was a ghoul.

Slowly, he started to realize how weird you acted. You tried explaining that you were just new to Earth, and that you were still figuring things out.

But he caught you.

He saw you alone, in the spot of the gardens where you two would hide, wings stretched out with an ethereal glow surrounding you as you prayed to God.

He is not happy about this at all.

What do you mean he’s mated to an angel?

The argument he had with you was one for the books. He was beyond upset, and you didn’t know how else to react, so you argued back, desperately trying to explain that although you lied, you truly loved him.

He will literally do everything in his power to avoid you until he physically can’t resist you, and once he does run back to you, you’re so kind to him, which stuns him.

He eventually softens and welcomes you into his life with hesitantly opened arms.

You’re very curious about his lifestyle and other things on earth that you’ve never seen from your above view in Heaven.

He actually explains things to you in such a gentle manner.

After being kicked out of Heaven, you immediately run to find him.

He’s shocked. The only bad thing you ever did was hang around him.

He was responsible for your fall, and this hurt him. He tried avoiding you again, but you wouldn’t let him.

He held you so tight every night, especially the ones where the memories of Heaven would flood back in.

You were his angel, and he wasn’t letting you go now that he’s let you in.

Rain

You weren’t even at the Abbey. You were in the middle of a random city because you were following Ghost’s tour.

One of the head angels sent you to keep tabs on them, which, looking back on it now, was a big mistake.

You were at a small, local coffee shop when you caught that first whiff of petrichor.

Oh, you were head over heels immediately.

Rain noticed you, but tried his best to keep his attention off of you. No way did he just catch the eye of an angel.

He left the coffee shop as soon as his order was ready, trying so desperately to escape your intoxicating scent, but it followed him.

Well, technically you followed him. You weren’t sure where he was even going, but you followed him anyway. And he let you.

He knew he would get in so much trouble, but tempting an angel? Now that was too good to pass up.

Once he put an end to the game, he confronted you. He explained the feelings both of you were hardly fighting, and you just kind of stared at him like a lost puppy.

He was so confused by you. Why are you – an angel – so entranced by him? Shouldn’t you be running? Shouldn’t he be ripping you to shreds? Apparently, neither of you cared enough to find out those answers.

You continued following him from city to city in a Romeo and Juliet kind of way.

Your secret meeting spot was coffee shops. It was away from ghouls, from angels, from anyone. The only reason the ghoul’s figured out what was up was because Rain always came back smelling…ethereal.

You fell once the head angel realized what happened when you kept visiting him after the tour ended.

You immediately ran to him, and he held you while you cried.

He was going to help you adjust to your new life, and he would fight for you to stay with him.

Even fallen, he loved you far too much to let you go.

Mountain

The most collected about this.

At first, he was so put off by it, but once he realized he wasn’t going to escape his feelings, he wanted to keep you.

His only concern was your purity. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to you, so he pushed you away.

It was such a conflicting feeling, and as much as he wanted to make you his, he just…couldn’t hurt you. He didn’t actually hate you of course, but he couldn’t see you ruin yourself for him.

He acted as though he hated you, so you pushed him. This was affecting your purity, and every visit made your feathers darken (metaphorically).

You fell on purpose, and he almost resented you for that.

Your life had been so good, why would you push yourself to him?

Heaven wasn’t as kind as people assumed, but you never told him that.

You just wanted to be near him, but Heaven was holding you back. Why couldn’t he see that?

He wanted to pull you close and protect you, but he was so conflicted.

He couldn’t decide what to do, and he punished himself by staying away, and punishing you all the same.

Once you told him about Heaven and how it wasn’t what was good for you, he was shocked.

He was angry.

He couldn’t believe that anyone would do anything so cruel to you…until he realized that he did.

He isolated you when you needed him the most, and that rubbed salt in the wound.

He held you so close and vowing never to leave you and that he wasn’t going to let anything hurt you again.

Swiss

He’s so protective of you.

Probably the most protective actually.

He couldn’t sleep. He just didn’t have a good feeling about the day.

So he went for a walk in the woods, which is where he saw you all bloody.

You were so scared. Scared of being kicked out of Heaven, scared of the ghoul you heard coming closer, scared of where you were, scared of everything.

Swiss couldn’t hurt you. You were his mate. You were in too much pain to put two and two together.

He brought you back to his room to patch you up. He was too hesitant about everything, but cleaned you up and even allowed help from some of the others.

He growled, snarled, snapped his fangs, and whatever else he could when any ghouls who weren’t actively helping you got too close.

You were his angel. Even if you were technically a fallen angel, you were his angel.

The other ghouls were ready to get on his ass for letting an angel in, but

Aether

He full on panics

He’s Papa’s favorite. He’s righteous. He hasn’t done anything for this to be his fate.

An angel? His mate? Wrong. Absolutely not.

You felt a pull to him. Like you just had to be next to him at all times.

He didn’t like it at all and constantly tried to force you away from him.

But you stuck to him like a fly in a glue trap.

He would snap his fangs, snarl, growl, show his claws, and even threaten to use his quintessence.

But you stayed for no reason other than to feel that static you felt when you were around him.

When Heaven found out about your attempts at getting closer to Aether, you were cast out.

And he…didn’t help. He freaked out again and left you.

It was a lot to pin on him, but he felt that he did this.

It might not have fully been his fault, but he believed that he was the cause of your misery.

He wanted to help, but he could feel every ounce of pain that Heaven inflicted onto you, and he couldn’t stand it.

It wasn’t until one of the other ghouls forced him to see you that he really let himself try to patch up his mistakes.

He was absolutely terrified seeing how much pain you were in, but he slowly began to help.

But trusting him was hard…it happened slowly, but he helped you and you couldn’t help but let him in.

And he promised never to push you away. He promised to never let you get hurt. He promised to never leave you again.

Phantom

Once he finally got control of his glamour, he was allowed out of the Ministry.

Swiss had taken him to a shopping mall, letting him explore and choose his own style (on Copia’s dime of course).

They were taking a break at an Auntie Anne’s when he smelled something absolutely fantastic – and no, it wasn’t the cinnamon sugar pretzels.

Even as Swiss tried to reel him back, he walked over to you. Apparently he needed to get more than just his glamour under control to hide his ghoulish tendencies.

He came up and sniffed around you, making sure that the scent was indeed yours.

He was intrigued, and began asking you millions of questions in the middle of the mall.

Swiss finally pulled him away and took him back to the Ministry, and you…you didn’t know why, but you followed. Secretly, but you still followed.

You roamed the gardens at night, and he came out when he realized that the smell wasn’t just in his imagination.

His ghoul form entranced you, and you decided then and there that you wanted to fall.

There were nightly visits for about a month before you got the warning from Heaven.

He didn’t want you to fall. You were so pure and beautiful…but then he thought about you being a fallen angel. No limitations to your relationship.

So you fell. It was a painful break, but he was there for you.

He held you as you cried, did his best to cheer you up, and helped you find your place in the Ministry. He helped you find your place in the world.

Cirrus

It’s a situation similar to Mountain’s.

You were trying to fall. Trying to give God a reason to cast you out.

When she meets you, she’s confused and doesn’t know what to do.

She doesn’t know whether to push you away or pull you in.

It’s a lot of fighting and a lot of back and forth.

The two of you almost hated each other, but you couldn’t stand to be away from her.

You had already fallen, but there was something about you that was still so heavenly, and she couldn’t stand it.

She was one of the toughest ghouls, but slowly, her hard exterior began to chip away.

You broke her down and forced her to show her vulnerability.

And when she did, you saw just how scared she was.

But you were there to help her, and she was going to help you.

Cumulus

You were just a curious little thing, and she was excited to help.

Everyone thinks Cumulus is soft, but she was beyond thrilled to make you fall.

She’s decently possessive, and Heaven had their claws on what belonged to her.

She helped you learn Earthly ways while sneaking in her own corruption.

But when you did fall? She was terrified.

You were hurt, and she caused it. She didn’t want to see you.

She let the pack tend to you and your wounds.

She only saw you again when you made your way into her room, nothing but a blanket covering you.

She sobbed at the sight of you, and held you so tight.

You were her angel, and she messed up. Even though you’d forgiven her, she felt that she messed up, and she wasn’t going to forgive herself.

Sunshine

This happened in the weirdest way.

She was literally watching Lilo and Stitch, and that one scene where Lilo is praying. Sunshine thought it would be funny to try it out herself.

Walking over to the window, she kneeled down in front of it. “Maybe send me an angel. The nicest angel you have,” she repeated, folding her hands and giggling heavily.

Well giggling until she heard a very chipper “hello” from her bed.

And there you were: wings, golden glow, even pretty robes.

“What the fuck!” “Well that’s not very nice.”

There is an angel. On her bed. And a really really pretty angel at that.

She’s insanely curious as to who you were, and why you chose to come to the call of a demon in a satanic church.

You explain that you were sent to help the sinner in question (her) repent. Because obviously that's why she called you.

She had to explain that she was just joking of course, and that honestly just confused you.

You were very curious about the demon, and she was very curious about you.

There were visits at least once a week to each other after that.

You were given a warning, which is extremely generous of the head angels to give. They only gave you one more chance to stop your visits.

You began feeling guilty about lying, but you stopped visiting. Until you heard that same call. How could you resist?

You came back to her, and she managed to get you to stay the night.

You woke up earlier than her, and quietly rolled out of bed. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the feathers in your wings. Some still white, others graying, and others pitch black. You had fallen.

She felt so guilty, but honestly was more glad. No more restraints from Heaven keeping you from her. She was going to be your forever protector.

Aurora

Similar to Sunny, she summoned you on complete accident.

Sometimes, ghouls will read the bible for shits and giggle, and she was reading random scriptures. In between the pages was a random paper scribbled with incantations on how to summon an angel.

She watched Hocus Pocus one time, and decided that being a witch was her new favorite thing, so of course she decided to play around.

She was curious, and wanted to see what would happen.

So she summoned you on a random Tuesday.

Your curiosity matched hers perfectly.

She taught you all of the human things that she was taught. 

She was so proud of herself!! She even showed you off to Cirrus. 

Cirrus gave her a look of “what the actual everloving fuck?” and told her that you had to go.

Both of you refused, but soon, you felt a tug pulling you back to Heaven.

It was months before you returned.

Aurora became very depressed, only coming out of her room when forced. Heaven realized that you were feeling the same way over a demon.

They kicked you out immediately.

Cirrus was the first to find you after you fell, and immediately took you to Aurora.

Aurora immediately curled around you, keeping you protected and safe from the atrocities Heaven committed against you.

You were pulled from her once, and it would not happen again.

[sorreysorren]

what it is to be hollow

soccer was a testament to kaiser's existence.

a file was given to you, withholding information about kaiser that probably only 5 people in the world knew.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you argued to the man at your door, one last time, that forcing someone won't prove effective. neither would sessions for just about a month. it was a desperate measure on dark’s behalf.

your words were disregarded.

and kaiser couldn't play until he went to therapy for the entirety of a month.

–––

kaiser didn't like you.

he didn't understand how talking to a stranger was going to solve all of his “problems”– as the people around him liked to call it.

of course, he wasn't going to voice his dislike for you. he knows how to act in front in front of people– he knows how to keep an image.

acting must've run in the bloodline.

he just had to pretend he was well.

you would only see what he wanted you to see– he thought he had you wrapped around his finger.

this way, he still had some form of control.

but you only smiled.

you smiled like you knew exactly what was going through his head. like you knew what was going to happen. like you knew everything about him.

– – –

it was cold in your office.

your shelves were filled with books, board games, and art supplies.

there was a mirror beside your desk, and right next to it hung a painting: a fish about to be eaten by a shark.

you asked him about himself, basic things; things you already knew. you wanted him to speak though. but he stayed silent. right now, his goal was just to make it through the hour. to just wait it out. even if it wasn’t his choice to be here.

“i can’t help you if you don’t talk”

he didn’t have to choose to open up to you because his demeanor did so involuntarily.

the little glances; when his eyes would widen for a split second; when his knuckles would tighten from how tightly he held them in a fist– you saw it all.

this was very different from the kaiser you’d seen on tv. the one who carried himself like he ruled everything around him.

and yet, in front of your eyes was hollow-like shell of a man.

right now, maybe, kaiser wasn’t a "real" person. there was no sense of self within him. he was a mess of thoughts, memories, and sensations. whatever bit of “self” that existed within him was molded by everything he went through.

maybe in different circumstances, he would’ve resorted to his cocky attitude you’d see on tv and interviews.

knowing his background, you knew he wouldn’t be opening up soon. but if you both had to be here, some use must be made out of the time, right? that was your thought process, at least. you understood not everyone wanted help, even if it was evident that they needed it.

right now, what he has is an open wound. right now, all he’s been doing is pressing a bandaid over it– a piece of cloth, even and continuing a reckless path. he’s stepped over the steps he should be taking; disinfecting, stitching, and healing.

the unfelt emotions in him eat away at his wounds.

– – –

the hour passed by, mostly in silence. the sound of your keyboard interrupted the silence every now and then. through the corner of your eye, you kept an eye on him, watching for anything.

he left as soon as the clock read 5:00 pm.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the following week, he was late by 20 minutes.

“you’re late.” you didn’t really care if he was late or not, but you wanted to get something out of it. “do these sessions get in the way of something?”

he glanced at you, “you know they don’t.”

and he’s right.

to him, this is a punishment– not being allowed to play until he’s done with this. he has nothing else to do, if not play.

i’ll make it work, he tells himself.

“i’m not here to change you, michael. there’s a difference between change and adaptation. i’m not here to judge you either. i can help you alleviate whatever you’re feeling. i can listen to you. i can give advice. but i also don’t make any decisions in your life. whether you like it or not, we are here for you.”

“my…” he trailed off, not finishing his sentence.

there was an indistinguishable expression on his face and you could almost see the way the gears twisted and turned inside his head.

he didn’t say anything about you going on a first-name basis, but he didn’t speak again, only staring at the floor, waiting for the hour to be over.

you looked at his file again.

he had a history with violence, which had you brainstorming techniques that could help with that. when agitated, there are two pathways you think he would choose.

the first is immediate violence.

the second is pushing the thoughts away. doing so aggressively will only cause them to slip through the cracks, and then resurge ten times worse.

“have you heard about compartmentalizing?” you were certain he hadn’t, but this is how you chose to proceed

you explained that when in a calmer state, he should attempt to visualize putting the thoughts in little boxes inside his head.

sure, the method wasn't perfect, and it couldn't be used forever, but it was a step forward

he thought it was stupid.

he thought it was as stupid as the fish painting on your wall, but then again maybe that wasn’t the best comparison since it did catch his eye after all.

another method: EFT

before he left, you handed him a brochure that highlighted how it works.

during EFT, individuals tap certain points on their body – similar to the points used during acupuncture, to send signals to the part of the brain that controls stress.

on the margins, you recommended the side of the palm and the collarbone– this was closest to his neck and his tattoo (roughly 2 inches below it).

when he skimmed over it on his way out, he assumed it was some sort of placebo bullshit.

he didn’t see how this was going to help him, but then again, he wasn’t seeing a lot of things.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“ –the wound will never really be gone, but it won’t ache in the way it currently does.”

you were explaining how cooperation on his behalf will benefit him.

it was the third week, and there wasn’t much time left. you had been aware that a mere month wouldn’t be enough for effective progress, but you hadn’t expected time to pass so quickly.

here you were, unaware of whether anything you’ve said for the past few weeks has stuck to his head or not. you did know, though, that you’ve somehow gotten to proximity with the line which figuratively served as a barrier between you guys,

the next thing you asked would either bring progress or fuck up everything.

“a lot of people in your situation would decide to kill themselves” you started, “why haven't you?”

his head shot up, before going to its previous position. he thought he must’ve misheard you because what kind of person just asks that? sure, it did make him think, and– it made him think.

it made him think, which made him realize he had no answer. maybe he wouldn’t have said it out loud, but he would’ve had an answer in his head. why hasn’t he?

was it soccer? it had to be.

He lifted his gaze to look at you, and you were already looking at him. You smiled knowingly.

yeah, your office was cold, but you reeked of warmth– and he thinks if he knew what it was like to be human, he would relish in it.

the thought made him sick.

– – –

if he doesn’t believe it, it doesn’t exist.

that was why it was crucial to find a reason; if he wanted to be “human” that is. and he does. you could tell.

the next week, the last week, he was in your office, for probably the last time.

he never said it out loud, but he had a new goal.

the facade he once had– the mask he once wore, was fractured. it was what he sculpted throughout his time in bastard munchen. it was broken, as now his image has been stained.

but now, he will not only rebuild the mask, or build to cover the exterior, but rather build a skull, and a sternum; he will build what makes him physically human.

he will learn to function with his head, his heart, and his bones.

he finally engaged in conversation. you talked about hypotheticals and “what ifs” and turning them into reality.

if you didn’t care about that, then you wouldn’t be human

what you believe to be impossible– make it possible.

“you're alright, kaiser.” it's an observation. he wasn't sure what you meant by it. you think you weren't sure either.

you also see he truly is resilient.

he’s made it this far, after all.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

a/n: I tried not to make him too ooc... I envisioned him with the mindset he had when he was younger and was arrested,, where he looked like he'd completely given up on everything (so none of that cocky facade bs) I TRIED TO DO HIM JUSTICE.

taglist: @huaposh @bloodypaintersgf @gigiiiiislife @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife

[singsangseung]

Smile For the Camera

Hi pookies! I am so sorry this fic is coming out late,I have been so slammed with work – due to me working second shift(booo) and just life :( But, I am still here to deliver another installment of my valentine’s day collab! I LOVE seungmin and this idea has been sitting heavily in my mind for so long. (sorry for any typos or grammatical errors, but nevertheless enjoy!)

Pairing: Seungmin x Fem!reader 

Summary: Photobooth sex….i don’t know what else to say honestly LMAO 

Warnings:public sex( in a photobooth), dirty talk, fem!reader, unprotected sex(don't be silly wrap your willy), cumming inside(don’t!!!!), forced close proximity, established relationship, italicized texts indicate flashbacks/ the past, exhibitionism,  rough sex( i don’t know),fingering, reader is referred to as pup/puppy(pet!play) 

MDNI!! 18+ ONLY!!! AGELESS,OR BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!!YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! MDNI!!!

˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

For as long as you and Seungmin have been a couple, you have been fiends for a good photo booth. Any time that either one of you happened to spot one while out in the world, you had to take a picture. Sometimes the pictures were posed, some of them candid snaps of your relationship. 

Smiles. Frowns. Pouts. Kisses, peace signs. 

You two loved photo booths.

 There was just something so nostalgic of sitting in that crammed booth, behind the curtain, the countdown on the screen, getting to capture sweet moments only the two of you would know about. It made you and Seungmin feel like two high school sweethearts. And each time you would look at your past strips of pictures, it only brought smiles to your faces. Recalling the sweet endearing memories in your mind. 

Your favorite strip of pictures came from your first date. The first picture of the two of you sat side by side as you simply smiled. Second was you placing a kiss on his cheek. The third is a picture of him kissing your cheek. Fourth was you two making a joined finger heart in front of you and lastly was your first kiss. 

 You could recall the whole day so clearly and easily. 

Your first date. Seungmin picked you up at 4:30pm to take you to Lotte World. The whole day was so fun. Holding hands, sharing the greasy treats as you blissfully walked around the amusement park. “Oh! Oh, seung! A photo booth, we need to take pictures,” you gleefully exclaimed as you tapped his arm and bounced on the balls of your feet in pure joy. “Okay, okay. Let’s go, cutie.” he smiled down at you, before you dragged him to the photo booth.

After inserting your token game card, you pulled him to sit beside you. Looking at him, with a smile on your face, you giggled and scooched closer to him in the already small booth. “What should we do?!” you posed, as the automated voice of the camera began its countdown to your first picture.  “Um, smile?” He teetered back, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, a little nervously. Laughing, you leaned into him as you both shared a smile at one another before the camera click.

3. 2. 1. Click

One down, four to go. “What next, cutie?” he asked, playfully squeezing you to his side. 5.4.3.2…. Then you were kissing his cheek. Blushing, he made a slightly shocked face as the camera shutter went off and a blush rose on his ears, neck and cheeks. “I- was that okay? Sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you rambled out, a matching blush rising on your cheeks. “N-no! It was okay, I promise! I-i liked it!”Seungmin smiled at you, neither  of you hearing the next countdown. 

“I have an idea for the next one,” he smiled as he saw the countdown on the screen. “What is it?” You smiled, carefully swinging your legs across his lap. 3.2.1. Then, he was kissing your cheek. Oh. oh, you liked that, you thought to yourself. His lips were soft. Smiling, you blushed and covered your face. “What’s got you so shy, cutie?” he panned, pulling your hands away from your face. You were so cute, the thought in his head. “Nothing! I- good idea,” you blushed and giggled, booping his nose. “Agreed, it was a pretty good idea, huh, cutie?” Seungmin teased. “Yes, now the next picture. Finger hearts?” You pondered, looking at him with shiny happy eyes. 

“Sounds good,” Seungmin answered. Turning towards the camera, you held your hand up in front of you. Your left index and middle finger forming half the heart and a bright smile on your face;still holding a light blush on your cheeks. “Min,hurry,” you whined. Chuckled, he used his right index and middle finger to complete your heart. “Okay,aish.” He chided, before letting a smile grace his own face as the camera went off again.

You had one more picture left.

Seungmin had been wanting to kiss you all day. But, he could never find the right moment to. And if this wasn’t the perfect opportunity yelling at him to kiss you, he;d be a fool. The perfect opportunity to kiss you was being handed to him on a silver platter. Ever since you two had gotten to the amusement park, he had been waiting for a good time to kiss you. Your lips looked so soft and  shiny from your gloss. Was it flavored? What flavor would it be? Strawberry? Cotton candy? He wanted to find out.

Now, now he was going to kiss you and if he didn’t….well, he hoped you would kiss him. As long as he got to feel your lips on his, he would be happy. Bashfully looking up at him through your lashes, you smiled. “What should we do? There’s not that lon-” you tried to get out, your eyes flittering from his eyes to his lips. Gently, he cupped your jaw in his hand, his eyes fluttering shut and his lips were on yours. 

It felt so nice. Your lips tasted like strawberry gloss, soft as clouds and pink like a bunny’s tongue. So caught up in the kiss–your first kiss– neither you nor Seungmin had registered the shutter of the camera going off. Smiling against your lips, Seungmin placed a few more pecks, before he was pulling away. “Was that okay?” the whispered hushed words came from his lips, blushing softly. 

Nodding, you reached to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind his ear.”Mhm, was more than okay,” you blushed,a gentle smile on your pretty lips. “Can-can we do it again,” you wondered aloud, “I liked it….a lot.” of course. That first kiss wasn;t enough for him. So, cupping your cheeks, he closed his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss. 

It was slightly more passionate, compared to the mere press of your lips on one anothers in the picture. Now, your lips were intertwined,locked,slotted together. A gentle push and pull rhythm as you sighed against his lips and slotted your hands around his neck. Sadly, the moment had to come to an end. Pecking your lips, he pulled back and smiled. “Hi,”He whispered, smoothing your hair. “Hi, minnie.”

Sliding out of the booth, you gathered the two strips of pictures– one for each of you, of course– and examined the pictures. They were cute. You and Seungmin were cute. “Aw, look at us, cutie,”he tickled your side, his arm winding around your waist. “Mhm, we look pretty cute,”you giggled out, leaning to press a sweet kiss to his cheek.”Very cute, this,” he waved his strip of pictures,”Is going to stay with me forever.” playfully, you pinched his side. “It better.”

That, now, was 3 years ago. And ever since, you have become obsessed with photobooths. Going as far as to rent one for birthdays and holidays. Whenever there was a photobooth, it was guaranteed that you and Seungmin would pay the fee, climb in the booth and get your pictures. 

It has also become your anniversary tradition to go to Lotte world and recreate your first date photo booth pictures. So, now you had 3 years of the same pictures, the only things that changed was your hair and outfits. You recreated the same poses, wore the same happy smiles, and sat in the same booth in the same position as you had done that day 4 years ago. Your legs over his lap and his arm around your shoulders.

 That’s what brought you to the present.

Your 4 year anniversary. Lotte World. Holding hands, exchanging kisses, sharing food and sweet treats. You had been at the park for a few hours having decided to go at a later hour of the day, reliving and reminiscing on the memories you made in the prior years. “Remember how we shared a funnel cake, honey?” Seungmin asked, ask you two stood in line to get that same funnel cake. “It was so good, no wonder we get it every year we come here, bubs.” You giggled, nestling into his side as you gently rubbed his stomach. “It may be sweet but not as sweet as you, my love.” he giggled, as you slowly approached the counter. “So corny, you are, bub.” you pinched his side and snorted.

Once Seungmin paid for the funnel cake and you two had sat at an empty table, you giggled as you fed each other. “Oops, you have a bit of whipped cream on your lips, bub,” he cooed, leaning to peck your lips to rid you of the sweet airy treat. “Got it, bub.” He smiled, as you rolled your eyes. He could be so corny and cheesy sometimes, but it was a side of him that only you knew. “Thank you, bubby.” You snickered, feeding him another bite of the fried dough to him. 

Hours passed, you went on rides, ate more food, took breaks to sit down, snapped cutesy pictures together or of one another. The thought of your annual anniversary tradition of the photo booth had never left your mind. It was always your favorite part of going to the park. Being able to have a physical remembrance of your special day and the memories you two made. Sure, it was cheesy, but you loved being able to pull the glossy strip of pictures out and remember those moments. 

“It’s getting close to photo booth time , baby,” Seungmin teased you, swinging your intertwined hands between you. Oh, you knew. You could never forget. I mean, how could you? It was a sweet and endearing reminder of your first date, your first kiss and how much you and seungmin have been together and in love. “I know, bubby.”

Luckily, the park wasn’t too crowded that day, or the people were just gathered in other areas of the park. Whether it was rides, or food or games to win a prize. They just weren’t gathered near the photo booth. Seungmin,internally, was grateful that he had more space around the booth. For he had a sinister little idea plotting and brewing in his pretty head. 

Fuck you.in the photo booth.

Pulling your hand towards his mouth, he placed a loving kiss to the back as he guided the pair of you towards the booth. It still looked the same. Dark blue, the words ‘Photo booth’ printed in a large font over the side, photoshopped images of couples snapping silly pictures and the ‘₩2670’ price. The curtain looked the same; white with blue stripes. Slightly tattered from years of use. But, nevertheless the same. 

It always brought back a rush of memories.

Smiling, you watched as Seungmin swiped his game card and pulled you past the curtain and onto his lap. “I paid for two strips, bubs. One of our anniversary tradition pictures,” he stated. “And for the second one?” you asked, slightly confused.”It’s a surprise. I don’t want to give it away,though.He winked at you before starting the timer. “Assume position, bub.”

Akin to the last 3 years, you sat across his lap with his arm around your shoulders. Recreating the poses was second nature, for you two. And you loved recreating them, knowing it added to the ever growing collection of photo booth strips you acquired over the years. 

 Just you two smiling. It was simple, yet effective. Conveying the joy you two felt. “Smiiiileeeeee,bub.” Seungmin cooed at you, as you pinched his side. “I knowwww, remembered how we did this last year and the year before -” you whined as you smiled at the camera. “Yes I do, I remember very well, actually.” he chided back, nonetheless wearing an equally love and joy filled smile on his face. 

Flash. Click.

Onto the second picture. Kissing his cheek. Something you have done millions of times over the past 4 years of your relationship. “You ready for these lips?” You poked at him, puckering your freshly glossed lips. “Oh yeahhhh. Always baby. Lay it on me,” he smirked, as the countdown voiced with its automated voice. With a smile, you leaned in and connected your lips with his cheek. Mwah. the smacking sound of your lips echoed through the small booth, as the camera shutter sounded.

“You ready for my lips,” he teased, with  a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Eh, I don’t know, minnie,” you joked, sticking your tongue out. “Wooooow. That’s not what you say in bed-” he jeered, as you deadpan stared at him,your cheeks flushing strawberry pink. “Can you not talk about our sex life in public, dawg?” You whined as he pulled you closer into his side. “Embarrassed, cutie? I’d say our sex life is pretty goo-” he emphasized the last words before you were smacking a hand over his mouth. “Aigoo! Anyone could have heard that! Children could have heard that. Do you want JYP to scold you, again?”

Ah, he could remember getting scolded the first time. Then the second..and third..and fourth. One for him announcing your relationship without having discussed with him before. The second time because you were caught kissing and dispatch had made a whole article about it. 

‘Kim Seungmin of Stray Kids Seen Kissing His Girlfriend at the Han RIver.’ that was a good one, seungmin had thought to himself. In all honesty, he didn’t care that your relationship was out and open. You were comfortable with it and he liked being able to be with you and affectionate in the wild. Sorry Stays.

Gasping, he pressed his lips against your cheek. “Dawg? Who are you calling dawg, madame?” He mumbled against your cheek, as the shutter went off. “You, meong meong,” you smiled, a laugh escaping your lips. “Oh shush, you goober.” Seungmin mocked you as he gently cupped your cheek, in the same fashion he did all those years ago, and brushed his nose on yours. “Hi,” He whispered, leaning closer towards your face.

Flickering your eyes between his eyes and lips, you smiled. “Hey, there,handsome.” You cooed, hearing the familiar automated voice. 

3 

2

1

Click, and a flash. In an instant, Seungmin captured your lips in a soft kiss. His lips slotted between your own, unlike how they were just pressed together in your first year picture. “Mmmm, you’re wearing that gloss,baby,” he breathed against your lips, his hands around your waist to pull you in a straddle on his lap. 

“Of course, it’s your favorite,” you mumbled, tangling your hands in his hair, “wore it the first time we kissed.” You melted against him, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss. “Mhm, I know, baby.”  fuck him, he was already getting hard. He grunted, feeling you softly rock your hips against his own, causing blood to flow to his dick and harden him in his jeans. “We still have one more round of pictures to take,” he breathed, sliding his tongue in your mouth.

This time they would be a lot raunchier

Nodding, you rocked your hips,”uh huh. What did you have in mind, minnie?” You panted, feeling wetness pool in your panties. Pulling away from your lips, he sucked his earlobe into your mouth,”Gonna fuck you like this.,right here…right now.” he groaned the last part into your ear.

Whimpering, you pressed yourself more rapidly against his bulge.”Yeah? Gonna fuck me?Gonna take me in here while the camera’s going?” You cackled, angling your head to suck a bruise onto his neck. “Fuck yeah, going to wreck your pretty pussy,baby.” He goaded, tangling a hand into your hair and reaching the other to unbutton your jeans.

“Bet you’re drenched for me,yeah?Grinding against my fucking cock in public. If only everyone knew what a dirty little girl you are. My dirty little girl. Just a little puppy who always wants to play.” the words reverberated and echoed through the booth. His voice an octave lower. You had always thought of fucking in the photo booth, but you never thought it would happen. Then again, so did he. 

Rolling your hips against his, you recanted into his ear. “Oh, I'm dirty? Who’s the one who started this whole scenario? Who’s the dirty one now, dawg?” You barked softly at him. “You were the one who pulled me on your lap and got hard. So, i think you’re the dirty puppy, Seung.” You chided, reaching your hand down to cup his hard dick over his boxers.

Hissing, he looked at you as his chest slightly heaved. “You didn’t stop me though. You’re just as dirty as me, pup.” He laughed venomously, shoving his hand into the front of your panties. “Just as I fucking thought, you’re drenched,” he smirked, running his middle and ring finger down your labia. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Seung fuck-” you creaked, rocking your hips onto his hand. “Look at you, all fucking desperate. Yet you tried to play me, as the dirty one.” He sneered, sinking his fingers in knuckle deep. “Oh! O-oh fuck!” You cried, throwing your head back, eyes pinched shut and lips open.

Flash. Picture one

“Yeah? Feel good, pup?I bet it does. Your walls are so warm and wet on my fingers.” Seungmin hotly whispered into your ear. Whining, you raised your hips before lowering them, causing Seungmin to cackle and fuck his fingers faster into you. “Calm down, pup. Let me give you what you need,” He cooed, a touch of sarcasm and a pinch of venom lingering in his voice. Faster, his fingers went. Smacking against your pubic mound. Still, you rocked your hips, frantically chasing your high.

Panting, you mewled and bounced on his fingers, humping his hand. “You really are a fucking puppy aren’t you? Fucking humping me, and panting like some bitch. Come on, I can tell you’re close. Cum aaalllllll over my fingers.” He scoffed at you, picking up his pace and pressing the palm of his hand against your clit. 

“Yes—hngggg– yes! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Please, minnie, gonna cum! Please can I cum?!’ The broken cries and wails vibrating the walls. You really hoped no one was around because, um, they were in for a surprise..

‘Kim Seungmin was caught having sex with his girlfriend in lotte world photo booth.’ you could see it now….but Seungmin probably wouldn’t care. In fact, he would probably laugh and just smirk about it, even if JYP was reprimanding him. Some snappy comeback, or rebuttal tumbling from his lips. “What can I say? We’re adventurous,” he would probably say something like that. Some smart ass remark.

Fucking his fingers faster into you, all you could his was your moaning and crying, the lewd wet smack of his hand against your cunt and his snide remarks. “Yes, puppy. Cum on my fingers,” He ridiculed, feeling the clench of your velvety walls on his fingers. “Know you’re close, pup. Come on now.” He tutted, feeling you bouncing against his fingers. “Promise, gonna cum soon!” You cried brokenly, fucking yourself against his hand faster. “A-almost there, minnie! Oh-oh fuck! Fuuuuuccck!” You gasped, the breath being ripped from your chest.

You saw nothing but whiteness, cloudlike almost? Did you die? From an orgasm? ”Gooood puppy. There you go, cum for minnie,” he taunted you, feeling the continuous clench and release of your walls and the stream of your cum. “Soaked my fingers so good, puppy. Take a look,” he ragged on, pulling his hand out of your pants to show you his hand now shiny in your cum.

“I-wow….” you blushed, your chest still heaving. Sucking his fingers into his mouth, Seungmin groaned. “Tastes so fucking good,too.” He gloated, licking his digits of every last drop of your cum, before lickint it off the palm of his hand. “Could drink your cum all day every day, pup.” He snickered, hoisting your hips up to pull your leggings and panties down.

“Oi, what are you doing?!” You rushed out, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “I;m going to fuck you….so i need your pretty pussy out.” He recanted, as he narrowed his eyes at you. He was serious?! “Are you out of your damn mind, Seungmin?! We could get caught!” You whisper yelled at him. If he was being truthful. He could hear nor process or care about any of the words you just threw at him. He said he was going to fuck you and he was going to follow through on his words.

So, in one ear and out the other your words went. 

Lighting his hips slightly, he pushed his own jeans and boxers down to his midthigh. Boing. His dick sprang up, hitting his abdomen. “What? Did you say something,pup?” He blinked at you, grabbing your hips to lower you to his cock. “Seungmin! Are so so fucking serious?!” You jabbed at him. 

However, at that moment all he cared about was getting his cock buried in your pussy. “Yep.” was all he replied, holding his shaft in his hand before lining it up with your entrance. “Seung, we can’t fuck in public!” “Puppy….you just rode my fingers, be so real.” He pointed out. Well, he had a point but fucking?! That was another level. “No!Put your dick away, they could see us! All that’s separating us from them is a cur-” you tried to ramble out before he was sinking you fully onto his cock.

Throwing his head back with a breathy groan, he smiled. “Fuuuuck,pup! Feel so good on me!” He bleated, as his eyes fluttered shut. “S-seung, no!” You tried to pull yourself away before he could do more. But, he wasn;t going to stop. 

Planting his feet on the  floor, he pulled your hips back onto his. “Fuck, come on, puppy.” Seungmin whined, starting to fuck up into you. It did feel good, you couldn’t lie.”But, we’re in pub-” you tittered back before he delivered a sharp thrust.

Oh, fuck it.

It felt too good. Hopefully, no one would walk past or worse….try to use the photo booth. Click. The camera snapped a shot of seungmin with his head thrown back and a groan escaping his lips. “Feel so good minnie,” you moaned, rocking yourself on his cock. “ know pup. Your cunt is so snug around my cock.” He grated, letting you ride him. 

“There we go, ride my cock like that. Such a good puppy,” he murmured. Rocking your hips against his, you dropped your head to his shoulder. “Hnnnng–fuck! So big, so deep! Minnie fuck!” You cried, rising and dropping your hips faster.

Shutter.

Your head in the crook of his neck, his arms on your hips and the top of your ass was all caught on the frame. “Yeah? Feel me so deep,pup?”You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he snapped his hips up into yours. “Y-yeah! Hhhnnnggg fuuuuuckkkk! I do! I do!” You mewled, as he held onto your hips firmly to piston in and out of you.

“Fuck! Turn around, pup, turn around,” he panted. Using his hands, he spun you to face the camera, his cock never leaving you. “Wh-huh?” You slurred, feeling drunk on his cock as you managed to sling an arm around his shoulders. “Fuck, legs up,puppy.” he whispered, more to himself, as he hooked your knees over his forearms. “Minnie, fuck! Move, please please please!”

Click. Picture three

“Careful what you ask for,pup,” he barked at you before pummeling his cock into you. If you weren’t cock drunk before, you sure as hell were now. “Hnnnng! Fuuuuck fuck fuck fuck! So good, so so good,minnie!” You sobbed, your eyes closing as your senses became overwhelmed by pleasure. “Yeah? I know,pup. You feel so good around my cock,” he hummed into your ear.

Shutter. Picture four. Your head thrown back, his lips against the shell of your ear.

Your chest was heaving, sweaty and slightly blotchy. Crying, you gripped a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I-hhhnnngg-fuck! Right there!” Minnie right there!” you begged, feeling the nudge of his cockhead against your sensitive gummy spot. “Right here? Huh pup?” he asked, punctuating each word with a precise thrust that punched his cockhead into your g-spot. 

He was sweating and so were you. “Y-yes! Fuck yessss! Right right there! More! Want to cum,fuck!” You bawled, feeling your end coming soon. Letting one of his hands leave your hips, he grabbed your jaw and pulled you in for a searing kiss. You were clenching around him so hard. It wouldn’t take you long to cum. “I know,pup. Can feel you clenching on my big dick. Going to give me another one?” He sniveled out, still bullying his cock into you, at an almost animalistic pace.

Weeping, you nodded vigorously and begged.”Yes!yes–hnnggg–yes! Going to cum again for you, minnie! I’m so close! PLeasepleaseplease!” You wept, your legs twitching in his firm hold. Oh, youwere so fucking close.  Holding on by a thread, by the skin of your teeth and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. 

Fucking into you harder, Seungmin nodded. His own orggasm started to grow and claw at him. “Fuckfuckfuck! I’m close, too, pup.” He groaned, barreling into, so fast you could feel your body jostling from the force. “A-ah! Ah ah a, minnie! Gonna cum! Gonna fucking cum-fuck!” You spattered, your toes curling in your socks. “Come on, fuck. Come on, my good pup. Lemme breed you! I’m so close!” he groaned, holding your hips strongly, hard enough to leave bruises. 

Finally, you broke. Your dam broke and you collapsed onto his chest, as you were seized by your orgasm and ir demolished you. “Cu-cumming! Yes! Yesyesyesyes YES! Fuuuckkkkk!” You blabbered, coating Seungmin’s cock in a generous layer of your cum.

Pulling his lips against yours, you wailed. “Yeeeesss!Minnie fuck meeeee!”

That was what it took for his own orgasm to take a hold on him. Stilling his hips, his dick twitched before stalling and spurting genrous ropes of his cum into your walls. “Fuuuuuck! Yyyeaaaah, puppy! Take my cum.” He called out, the words being swallowed by your mouth. His cum filling you felt warm, and welcome. “Yeah yeah yeah, such a good puppy,” he barked into your mouth,holding your body against his.

Ding. the last picture, your orgasmic faces as you unraveled and used each other’s mouths as vessels to moan into.

Panting, he pulled your body flush against his and kissed your hair. “Fuck, that was intense,baby.” He chuckled, chest heaving as he wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. Intense indeed. Collecting your breath, you nodded and felt your face. You were warm to the touch. almost like a fever. “Fuckng hell it was. But, if we got caught, I solely blame you.” You poked, smacking his thigh. “Oh come on. Don’t say you didn’t enjoy it cutie.” he joked, kissing your hair. “I didn’t say i didn’t enjoy it –because I DID– i just said if he got caught it’s your fault. “ You snickered back. “Okay but also your fault because you were loud.” 

“Me? Loud? I would never! I am a classy lady with decorum!” You giggled, pulling your panties and leggings back up. “Classy? Decorum? I just fucked you in a photo booth, my lovee,” he chided, with a smack to your ass. “It was your idea, doofus!” You rebutted. “Okay and? It was amazing, don’t lie!” he laughed, pulling his own jeans and boxers back up. “If i say it was amazing, will you shut up?” You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“Shut up? After I just gave you an earth shattering orgasm? How rude of you,cutie!” He pouted, smiling at you with a loving gaze as he fixed your hair. “Still my pretty girl, you are.” He cooed, as you blushed. “You;re so cheesy, you know?” The words escaped your mouth as you giggled and grabbed his hand.

Ushering both of you out of the photo booth, you quickly grabbed the strip of pictures and tucked it into your purse. I may be a cheesy doofus, but only for you.” Seungmin conceded, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yep, definitely a cheesy doofus,” you poked fun at him. Snickering, he pulled you into his side, the two of you walking away from the booth. “Shut it. You’re just as much of a goober as I am,” he laughed. “Am not.” “are too.”

Smiling up at him, sat by his side at a food stand, you smiled. “Hey minnie?” You perched, bopping his nose. Looking up from his burger, he raised his eyebrows and mumbled around a mouth full of food. “Yeah?”

“Happy anniversary.I love you”

“Happy anniversary, cutie. I love you more.”

˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

⁂Copying, translating,reposting,stealing,paraphrasing or claiming my words is STRONGLY PROHIBITED⁂ ©SingSangSeung 2023

tags; @straykeedz-recs ✪ @straykeedz ✪ @moonjxsung ✪ @blankdyean ✪ @kaciidubs ✪ @jinnie-ret ✪ @jilixthinker ✪ @itsnotmydejavu ✪ open-

a/n: hi guys! I am sooooo sorry this is coming so late! I have been so busy with work and have been so tired! Anyway’s I hope you enjoy it. However, this indicates the start of my break. I want to bring you guys my best and not hate myself as much so I won;t be writing for a bit. But, my asks and requests, as well as inbox, are still open! XOXO

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Is It Over Now? || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian and y/n have been fighting for so long, she's not even sure she knows what they're fighting for anymore. Angst.

Warnings: toxic relationship

Word count: 3458

Masterlist

y/n well done on your goal, amour x will you want dinner when you get home? i'm making myself some pasta so i'll do extra for you x do you know what time you'll be home? i've left some food in the fridge for you x kylian can you reply please? i'm worried it's getting late, where are you?

A deep frown was etched on her face, she stared at her ignored texts, the oldest sent five hours ago and the most recent nearly an hour ago. None of them had received a response and neither had her calls.

She hadn't been able to go to his match today, as she'd already arranged to go out for her friend's birthday in the morning. Kylian hadn't minded though, it wasn't a particularly important match and she rarely missed any of his games, so she could be forgiven for this. Surely that wasn't why he was ignoring her. Well, knowing him at the moment she could easily conclude that there was no reason behind the radio silence. He was just being Kylian.

Dick.

She knew he probably had no reason to ignore her; he was most likely just over at Achraf's and didn't value her emotions enough to dain her with a text back. Still, having been alone in the house for so many hours with only her thoughts to keep her company, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. It only felt natural to pick up her phone and she really couldn't help herself from opening Instagram. Her thumbs had a mind of their own, opening one of his fan accounts.

Then there he was, grainy footage of him on their story at some club in Paris, surrounded by his teammates. And then there was somebody else. Some girl sat at his side- on his side more really- his arm flopped lazily over the back of the booth behind her.

She was saying something and he was laughing. He was laughing in a way that he never did with y/n anymore. Wow, he was really laughing- surely nothing she said could be that funny.

The video was short, maybe five seconds, but she restarted it, watching it again, feeling a fire raging within her. The next story was a photo that some stranger in the club had taken. The pair were on the dance floor, none of his friends were in sight now. Her hands were up in the air and only now did y/n notice the girl's outfit. She wore a little red dress, just like the one that hung up in y/n and Kylian's shared closet. It was his favourite dress and she knew it.

At the sight, the fire that burned within her suddenly settled, an eery calm setting over her. After a few moments, she headed upstairs and drew a bath, watching the water slowly rise up the tub's sides. She loved that bath; the tub was huge, yet elegant, and sat right in front of a huge window which gave the most amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. Besides that, she and Kylian had spent some memorable nights in this bathtub. Not for a while though, she thought.

Now that she really considered it, she wasn't sure how many good memories she had with Kylian in the last six months. Maybe after three years together, she'd just grown used to the knowledge that she loved him and hadn't considered if he still deserved it. Maybe she hadn't considered if he still deserved her.

Maybe she'd been so caught up in the idea of the perfect man she'd met in that bar three years ago. She still remembered that innocent smile so vividly, the way he'd lift his glass to sip, almost hiding behind the thing. How every time she'd flirt with him, he'd blush like a schoolboy, and then suddenly shoot back with the most outrageous comment.

How a month after they'd started dating, the pandemic hit, and he'd turned up at her door, much to her disapproval. Then, he'd immediately asked her to move in with him. She still remembered his words.

Take a chance. If we're gonna go down, let's go down in flames. I don't wanna forget you, baby.

That aged like room-temperature milk.

He'd convinced her so easily, his charming smile and smooth words always getting the best of her. And he'd been right. Those had been the best few months of her life.

And even after lockdown, when she was back at work and football became more full on, everything had just seemed so right. He just seemed so right.

Every time he'd go away for matches, he'd always find some stupid trinket to bring home for her. The tradition had started the week they'd met, when she'd asked him out on another date and he'd had to turn her down, as he was playing away in Italy. He'd brought her back a little keyring- a pizza with Italia written on it. It was so tacky and so cheesy that she immediately fell in love... with the keyring. Their fridge was still littered with far too many magnets to count, very out of place in his black and white, minimalist kitchen.

Of course, she remembered the first gift, and she remembered the first time he'd forgotten. It was after an away match to Manchester City. An away match that had knocked PSG out of the Champions League- in the semi-finals.

It wasn't that she'd been expecting a gift- no, she completely understood. It was difficult for him; he'd been injured and therefore couldn't play the second leg. He'd had to go all the way to Manchester and didn't even get to kick the ball. He just had to sit on the bench and watch his dream fade before his eyes.

Despite not playing, she knew he blamed himself. He always blamed himself. For the injury. For not scoring in the first leg. For everything.

At the time, she hadn't been upset that he hadn't bought her some shitty magnet for their already cluttered fridge or a bottle opener for their already stuffed drawer. Besides, Manchester didn't have much to offer in the tourism department besides football, so she could forgive him for not wanting to search through shops full of his opponents' memorabilia, just to uphold their tradition.

Looking back on it though, that was the moment he snapped. Three weeks later, he'd returned from Reims empty-handed; when she'd playfully questioned him, asking how she was supposed to sleep at night without an 'I <3 Reims' t-shirt, he'd grunted something about being busy with work and she tried not to let her face fall, wishing he'd have just made some stupid joke in response.

Y/n, I can't afford to keep buying you all these presents.

Honey, nobody hearts Reims.

Well, I had some grapes for you but I got peckish.

But no, he'd just grumbled some excuse and gone up to their room. They'd won the game too. The last match of the season. Sure, they hadn't won the league but that fate had been sealed weeks ago.

Of course, at the time, she hadn't sat up at night, tossing and turning because her relationship was over. She'd understood. For him, she'd understood.

Then, the trinkets began to come every other away match, then once a month, once every few months, and then they stopped coming. The last remnant of their once-sacred tradition still sat on her fridge. He'd brought it back after an unremarkable league tie against Nice. A little magnet in the shape of a palm tree, in the colours of the French flag, with two words on it.

Trés Nice!

What did that even mean? Neither of them were sure. She loved it.

After that, however, the keyrings, and magnets, and bottle openers, and t-shirts, and pens had suddenly stopped. Not trés Nice!

The bath was full, the bubble bath she'd added working a treat. Slowly, she eased herself into the warm water, sighing as she settled back in the tub. She didn't even have her phone but she really didn't care. For what must have been an hour, she stared out the window at the city below her. From his castle, she watched his kingdom, knowing she didn't have a place in it anymore.

She stared at the dark streets they used to haunt, giggling hand in hand as they snook out of their apartment for late-night strolls (though it was always technically morning) down streets that at any other hour would be packed with hundreds of people, pointing at Kylian. Or when they used to go to tourist attractions in the middle of the winter and he'd pull on a balaclava, dragging her up the Eiffel Tower or the Champs Elysees, insisting her liked the thrill. In truth, so did she.

She liked standing hand in hand with him, knowing the crowds around them had no idea Kylian Mbappé was in their midst, and they never would because he was her Kylian. For that moment, at least.

It was late when she heard the door downstairs, the security system blaring loudly. She didn't panic, as it quickly turned off. He didn't say a word on his arrival. She could hear him drawing closer to their bedroom, his feet heavy on the stairs, in the hallway, in their room, approaching the bathroom door.

She thought he'd let his guard down when they first met, telling her his worries and fears, but maybe he only truly knocked down his walls that night in the bathroom months ago, showing his true self.

Maybe she only truly got to know him after Qatar, when he really snapped. When she'd tried to comfort him and he'd yelled at her because she'd never truly understand what he was going through. She'd told him she was sorry. She'd apologised. For what? She still wasn't quite sure.

Maybe she only truly knew Kylian when she'd been struggling at work, doing overtime to catch up on her ridiculous workload at home. She'd missed his match and he'd lost; then, when he returned home and she hadn't been in the mood for kisses and cuddles, he'd been furious. He'd said it was her fault she was stressed- she'd brought it on herself. She could quit her job any day and never worry about money again. She'd tried to explain but he couldn't comprehend her need for self-reliance. If anything, he was insulted that she didn't trust him enough to let him take care of her. He'd never been overly traditional or had an obviously fragile masculinity but that night she'd questioned everything she thought she knew about him.

Of course, he'd apologised the next morning and she'd forgiven him. They were both stressed and there was no reason to let one pressure-fueled spat escalate into more than it needed to. Then those one-off spats became more and more common until they were the norm. If they weren't in silence, they were fighting.

They only found peace when they were fucking. Even that physicality wasn't what it once was, no longer the same slow, gentle love-making. Now it was always quick, desperate, his once soft kisses now left bruises and his whispers of sweet nothings had morphed into wordless grunts and moans.

Is that all this relationship was anymore? Physical.

Light flooded the dimly-lit bathroom, as he swung the door open carelessly. He looked almost taken back at the sight of her, his eyebrows raising a little, as though he hadn't expected to see her here- in her own house.

Then again, maybe it wasn't her house. Sure, she'd lived here for almost as long as they'd been together but it was never really her house. It was Kylian's house in Kylian's city, and she was here too.

He stared at her for a few seconds before smirking, "Hey." he mumbled, already stripping down to join her.

She sunk further down in the tub, allowing the thick layer of bubbles to give her back her modesty. Silently, she watched him, her lips a flat line, her eyes on his face, not his naked body. He wasn't looking back at her. He was too focused on hastily ripping of his trousers and his shirt.

Without hesitation or any more words exchanged, he climbed in the tub and she leant forward as he slipped behind her. She wanted to be held in his arms just one more time, to feel his body against hers. He positioned his legs on either side of her, his arms flopping over her shoulders, as he pulled her back into his chest. Resting his face on her shoulder, he let out a noise, somewhere between a contented hum and a whine.

She ignored him, turning her head to stare out of the window. The city's skyline was dark and at this time, the tower's lights were off. Now, it was just a dark silhouette against a dark horizon, only made visible by the bright light of the full moon.

"What are you sulking about?"

As he spoke, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and she almost wretched at the scent. Her voice was calm and steady, as she asked, "Where have you been?"

Her voice sounded like she had an innocent curiosity in the question as if she didn't already know the answer, or she was merely asking to make small talk.

"Oh, some of the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win."

He didn't lift his head from her shoulder, placing a soft kiss on the damp skin. He lied with such ease. Well, he hadn't entirely lied, just withheld some important elements of the truth. Maybe she'd have preferred it if he'd just lied to her. At least then he would have had to make a conscious effort to deceive her. No, this felt so much worse; he spoke with such ease, as though it was the whole truth, and maybe he too believed it. Maybe he believed that she didn't need to know about the girl in the red dress, just like he'd believed she didn't need a text back, or a kiss goodbye before he left the house this morning, or a goodnight before she fell asleep last night or the night before that or the night before that.

"And who was that girl?" she asked, her voice still chirpy, not a hint of bitterness showing in her tone.

"Huh?" he twisted his head, the side of it on her shoulder, gazing up at her face.

"The girl you were with. She was in a red dress, like the one I have. Blonde hair and-"

"Oh," he cut her off quickly, "she's one of Ousmane's friends, I think."

"You think?"

"Mhm, I don't really know. I didn't speak to her that much."

Now, that wasn't a half-truth, that was simply a lie.

"Oh, okay. Just 'cause you seemed really friendly with her."

He scoffed, lifting his head, his tone suddenly switching, "What, were you stalking me?"

"No, but you didn't reply to my texts and you came home seven hours after the match finished, so I wanted to make sure you weren't dead in some ditch."

"Of course, I wasn't. Can I not have a night out with my friends?"

"Yeah, that's fine but you didn't fucking text me back and the next thing I see you've got some random girl in your lap at the club and you don't even have the courtesy to tell me about it."

"It wasn't like that! Why would I come home and tell my girlfriend that some nobody had been coming onto me in the club?" he snapped.

"Because you were coming onto her too! Don't you think I deserved to be warned that people were going to post pictures of my boyfriend with someone else! It's fucking humiliating!"

She stood up and climbed out of the bath, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She quickly grabbed her robe from where it hung and wrap it around herself. She sat on the little ottoman in the corner, hugging her arms around herself.

"What are you saying? You know I wouldn't cheat on you!"

He yelled the statement as though it were a fact. Maybe he believed it. He seemed to believe a lot of things. Maybe he just didn't think about her perspective much.

"No, I don't! What reason have you given me to trust you?"

His face fell into an expression of fury, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, Kylian!" she almost yelled and almost sighed, somewhere in the middle, "I don't know. What are we even doing this for?"

"You tell me! You're the one picking a fight for no reason!"

"No, not this just... why are we here? We keep fighting and I don't know what for."

He stood up, "What..."

"I'm not happy! You're not happy! What's the point!"

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he rushed over to her, "I'm happy, of course I am!"

"Well, I'm not." she murmured, standing up from the seat and heading for the bathroom door.

"What are you doing, where are you going?" he asked, panic setting over him.

"Away," she muttered, heading to the closet.

"No, you're not." he declared, chasing after her, "Look, baby, I'm sorry, okay?" Ignoring him, she began to change into some joggers and a hoodie. "Y/n, you're not leaving me."

"Why not? All we ever do is fight! There's no point in us being together if we make each other fucking miserable!"

"I told you, you make me happy! You make me happier than anyone else in the world!"

"Why don't you treat me like it then? Why don't you treat me like I'm worth anything? Like I'm a fucking human being!"

He was quiet, watching her as she grabbed a bag and started to toss clothes into it. "Y/n, I love you. I-"

"Do you, though? Really?"

"I do. Look I know I've been busy with work but you know how stressful my job is. I'm trying to be here for you and do my best for the team-"

"No, you're not. I know how hard you work but I have needs too. I can't keep doing this."

She dropped to her knees, zipping up the bag, packed with enough clothes for a few days. He stood in the doorway, blocking her exit as she tried to get her toothbrush from the bathroom.

As she stood in front of him, he took her hands in his, "Please, baby, I'll change. I'll do it for you, I swear."

"It's too late, Ky," she said, shoving past him. He didn't budge, "Kylian, get out of my way."

He clutched her hands as though his life depended on it, placing soft kisses on both of them, "I need you. You can't leave me."

"You should have thought about that before, shouldn't you?"

She shoved him out of the way and grabbed a few things from the bathroom before heading for the front door. He chased after her, his mind racing and his heart pumping a mile a minute in his chest. He swore it was working so hard he could hear his heartbeat in his ears- or was it the sound of her feet on the stairs?

"Y/n," God, her name sounded so right on his lips, he wanted to say her name forevermore, "she meant nothing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have entertained her like that." Tears were forming in his hazel eyes, he watched her putting on her shoes, "Y/n, you can't leave me, I love you. I- I don't want to live without you. I don't want to be on my own."

"Kylian," she stood up and cupped his cheek. Her hand was so warm and fit so perfectly around his face, as though it was moulded just for it, "you know I'll always love you."

Covering her hand with his own, he shook his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Don't do this to me, amour."

She hated seeing him like this: he barely ever cried. In all of their time together, she'd seen him cry maybe four times and it had never been because of her.

Her soft thumb wiped away the tear, "Don't cry. You'll be okay."

Then she was gone. The door was open and then it was closed. She was there and then she was gone.

He watched the space she'd been stood in for far too long, as though she'd swing the door open at any moment and declare that she'd had a sudden change of heart. But she wouldn't.

She was gone. It was over.

Masterlist

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.8

Warnings: Angst

Ch.7 Here | Ch.9 Here

***

An anger like you had never felt radiated from Azriel, as he turned slowly to face Rhysand. “What did you call her?” He demanded, shadows swirling in a frenzy.

Rhysand gave a cold laugh. “She is my wife, is she not?”

Azriel took a step closer to the still-injured male. “Enough with this game, Rhysand. I have allowed you to use her for long enough, it ends now.” His words brought confusion to your mind, pocketing them for later. This was certainly not the time to bring up your concerns.

“I am your High Lord, you do not ‘allow’ me to do anything. I do as I please, and you stand by my side.” A dark power glinted off him, danger thick in the air.

“Get your head out of your ass. She has done nothing but be wonderful for you. Why do you choose to treat her this way?” Anger was clouding Azriel’s vision, completely over his brother’s bullshit.

Rhysand rolled his eyes. “How many times do we have to go over this? You know it is you I like to upset. She is nothing but a pawn in a much larger game.”

You pushed off the countertop and stepped around Azriel to stare down your husband. “This is over, Rhysand. If you don’t call for the priestess, I will.” You were sick and tired of this nightmare.

“You will do no such thing. I am the High Lord, what I say goes.” A disgusting arrogance wafted from him, a confidence that he did not deserve. You didn’t hesitate to get close to him, getting in his face.

“You are a despicable male. I almost feel sorry for Feyre, having you as her mate. If only she hadn’t made it clear that she’s as nasty as you are.” Anger flashed through his eyes, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. “I was your wife for 150 years, Rhysand. Regardless of if you were using me for some game, we lived and laid together as husband and wife. I used to think you had created the world for me, and now I see that you have only used me to hurt your brother. For what gain?” You weren’t going to keep your thoughts quiet, no longer afraid of him hurting you. You’d rather feel pain than live under his nightmarish shadow any longer.

Rhysand was taken aback. He blinked slowly at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Azriel took her. Did he ever tell you?” His voice was almost devoid of emotion, an ancient argument pulling from the ground.

“She is what this has all been about? I have told you countless times Rhys, I did not take her from you. She never mentioned anything about you!” Azriel blurted out, raising his hands in frustration.

You looked between the two males curiously, waiting for further explanation.

“When we were young, there was a girl,” Rhysand began, “in the Illyrian war camp we trained at. Her name was Annabella, and she was my first love.” His voice broke a little as he turned to you. “I kept it a secret from Az and Cass, embarrassed to be so head over heels for her. At that age it was about fighting and fucking, not falling in love.” Azriel murmured in agreement, watching his brother carefully.

“I was courting her in secret, taking her out in the night. We spent hours under the stars, talking and laughing. I truly believed she was going to my wife, my love until the end of my days.” His gaze moved to Azriel. “Until she betrayed me.”

Azriel grunted, clearly uncomfortable with what Rhysand was about to tell. “She began to go after Az. She won him over with pretty words and seductive touches. He had no idea about her and I, but that didn’t matter to me.” His stare grew hard, lost in the painful memories. “I came home early one day, excited for another night with her. I opened the door to find her on top of my brother on the couch. Neither of them noticed me at first, and I could only watch in horror as two of the most important beings to me ruined my life.”

Azriel made a noise of discomfort, fidgeting on his feet. “Rhys, you know I didn’t know.” Rhysand held up a hand, stopping him from saying any more.

“I know that now. At the time, I wasn’t thinking rationally.” He turned back to you. “I let my power escape me, throwing the room into a hellish pit of dark. Azriel pulled her out and they ran, getting to safety. I destroyed that cabin. I almost destroyed the entire camp too, but Cassian ended up pulling me deep into the woods instead. He had no idea what happened, just knew he had to get me far away.” He took a deep breath and looked at Azriel.

“I decided then and there you would suffer the way I had. Even after you apologized and explained her trickery, my pain was too strong. The sight of the two of you played over and over in my mind, like some sick nightmare.” Rhysand shook his head, a humorless laugh coming from him. “Then I saw you two, and I knew I had found the one.” He shifted his focus back to you, an apology almost in his eyes.

“I am sorry that you were caught in this crossfire. The way I have acted recently, it has been terrible. Once I found Feyre I should have let you go, let you live your own life.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t. Not at first, not when she still hated me. I realize now that at some point my anger went from Azriel to the both of you. That wasn’t fair.”

It wasn’t quite an apology, but it was more honest than he had been in recent times.

“I never connected it,” Azriel said, voice quiet. “I didn’t realize you were still so hurt by it all. You hid it too well, brother.”

Rhysand looked at him. “Perhaps I did. I have only caused more hurt in the end, and to all the wrong ones. The only one who deserved to hurt was Annabella.”

A horrible thought came over you. “What did happen to her?” You asked, hesitant to know the answer.

Rhysand gave another empty laugh. “Not enough. I had her sent to a different camp, as far from ours as possible. I don’t really know what happened to her after, and her name was never brought up again. I assume she married some Illyrian there, settled down as his wife.”

Azriel cleared his throat, a small glimpse of shame on his face. “I truly did not know.” The shame quickly turned to anger. “But what you have done is beyond reason. How long were you going to fool her into believing you were her loving husband?”

Rhysand glanced at you. “I was her loving husband. As I told you all those years ago, Azriel, I could see myself grow to love her. Truthfully, I did. I loved her harder than I ever loved anyone else, especially Annabella.” His words were thick, the emotion causing tears to well up in your eyes. “Under the Mountain, Amarantha had me do truly terrible things. I didn’t pull away from you at first due to Feyre. It was due to fear of you seeing the monster I had become.”

You sighed, taking one of his hands in your own. “Rhys, you should have known better. I would never have seen you as a monster for what she forced you to do.” You gave his hand a small squeeze before dropping it. Your voice was hard as you continued. “You became a monster when you decided it was okay to treat me like dirt in front of your pretty little mate.”

He didn’t like that, dark power lashing out towards you. You stood strong, a lighter power radiating from you, keeping him at bay. “I am not to be played with anymore, Rhysand.” He backed down, a glint of anger still in his eye. “The way you have treated me is inexcusable. I do not care what happened centuries ago with you and Azriel, I do not care about your heartbreak. To use me to rectify that hurt is disgusting. You knew better than to act like that,” you sneered at him, your own anger rising in you.

“You will not talk to me like that-“

“I will talk to you however I please! I do not care what happens with Feyre, this marriage is over either way. Summon the priestess in the morning, or I will. Get the fuck out of my sight, Rhysand,” you demanded, power growing stronger around you.

He hesitated, ready to argue before remembering his weakened state. “This isn’t over,” he spat, turning on his heel and storming out of the cabin.

Azriel turned to you, smiling wide. “You are amazing,” he gushed, opening his arms to pull you close to him.

You stuck a hand out, palm hitting his chest and stopping his movements. “You are not off the hook either, Shadowsinger. Explain what you meant by ‘I have allowed you to use her for long enough.” Azriel backed away from your glare, shame radiating from his body.

“I don’t think now is the best time to talk about this,” he tried, shaking his head.

“No. I am done agreeing to whatever anyone else wants. You will explain, or I will tell you to leave with Rhysand.” He shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I knew,” he said, voice quiet, “all those years ago. When Rhys started courting you. I knew that he knew I had feelings for you.” He straightened up, voice growing stronger. “I confronted him about it. I told him to not play with you, that it wasn’t fair to use you like that. Never once did I think his actions had anything to do with Annabella. I only thought that he had gotten too cocky with his new High Lord title, that he had this insatiable desire to have the best of everything.” His eyes were sad as he looked over you. “You were the best, are the best.”

You rolled your eyes, gesturing for him to continue.

“He promised he would treat you as you deserved, that he would be the perfect husband regardless of how he felt. He did promise to learn to love you, even if the relationship began on a lie.” A shadow twirled around your hand, almost begging you to come to him. You shook it off.

“He proposed not long after that.” Azriel finished, unsure if he should look at you or the ground.

“So you knew,” you spoke slowly, “that he began everything on a lie, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your happiness!” He shot out, eyes wide.

“You were my best friend, Azriel. I trusted you with everything even before Rhysand, and you allowed him to con me into a marriage?” All you could see was red, anger overtaking you.

“I was trying to protect you,” he defended himself, crossing his arms.

“Protect me?! Look where we are now! My husband has turned out to be the worst being in the world, and you allowed that to happen. You allowed all of this happen!” You were screaming now, but you didn’t care. Let the rest of the house hear, let the camp hear, let everyone in Prythian hear.

“The two most important males to me have turned out to be the two dirtiest liars in existence! How am I to ever trust you again, Azriel?” He shrunk back into his shadows, darkness covering his face.

“I suppose I wouldn’t expect you to,” he said quietly. There was an edge to his voice, a dangerous anger.

You sighed, the red clearing from your vision as the fight rushed out of you. “I am tired. I need to think.” You walked towards the stairs, pausing at the base of them. “Do not come find me until I decide you can.”

Azriel stood in silence in the kitchen as you walked away, vision focused on the door. Ancient rage coursed through his veins, moving him towards it subconsciously. He only had one thought on his mind.

Find Rhysand.

And make him pay for what he had done.

***

things are getting seriousssssss! please let me know your thoughts about this chapter as always, i LOVE reading what you guys say!!!!! if you want to be added to the taglist let me know :)

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[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post is here 🤗 | AO3 link

When Eddie stumbles out of his room the next day, still half asleep and purposefully headed towards the coffee machine, he notices a crumpled piece of paper on the table. He frowns when he sees it's the note he tossed in the trash a day earlier. It's folded open again, and there's a mysterious, slightly gross looking stain on it, but the number is still clearly readable.

He takes a good few seconds to stare at the digits, written neatly with a blue ballpoint, as if the guy was doing his very best to make sure that none of the numbers would be unreadable. He can't believe that Wayne is invested enough in this to get the note out of the trash for Eddie, even though Eddie already made more than clear how utterly uninterested he is in this Steve person. He shrugs, crumples the note back up again, and tosses it back into the trash.

It goes on like that for a while: every time Eddie wakes up or gets back home, the number is staring at him from the table, only to be crumpled in Eddie's fist again and again and again. Neither Wayne nor Eddie say anything about it; it becomes a tacid game of who can be the most stubborn, and they both know that both of them can keep that up for a very long time. Eddie knows he could just tear it up, or burn it, or poetically bury it at the base of a tree at the edge of the woods outside the trailer. But something's stopping him. It isn't the guy, or even the idea of the guy – he's sure as hell that this Steve wouldn't be for him at all. No, it's the memory of the look on Wayne's face after he gave Eddie the number, all excited and proud of himself. It's the knowledge of how immensely lucky he is to have an uncle like that, who supports him and loves him exactly the way he is, even actively wants him to be happy with another man. It's the flash of disappointment that crossed Wayne's face that first time Eddie made a whole show of throwing the note away. That's the reason he eventually, after almost a whole week of moving the note from trashcan to table and back again, finds himself standing at the phone with the piece of paper in his hand. The note has become truly disgusting by now, with all kinds of unrecognizable smudges on it, but thanks to Steve's clear handwriting, Eddie can still read all the digits.

It doesn't take long before 'Steve Harrington' picks up the horn on the other side.

'Hey, um, this is Eddie,' Eddie says, suddenly feeling awkward about the whole thing and wondering if he should've thought through what he was about to say to Steve. 'You met my uncle at a baseball game, last weekend?'

'Oh!' Steve sounds surprised. 'Eddie! Yeah, yes I did – Wayne, right?'

'Hmhm.'

'I didn't really expect a call anymore, to be honest,' Steve says.

'Yeah, sorry 'bout that,' says Eddie. 'Listen, to be honest, I'm not calling because I actually think this is gonna be something. From what I heard – not to sound like a dick or anything, I'm sure you're perfectly nice and all that – you just, totally don't sound like my type, you know? But my uncle won't drop it, and it'd probably make my life a whole lot easier if I could just prove to him that not every random queer guy he meets is a good match for me, so... Do you wanna meet up for coffee sometime? We can establish what a terrible match we are, I'll pay for your drinks, and then we can move on with our lives without any gnawing guilt or “what if”s playing around in our minds, and we'll never have to think about each other again. How does that sound?'

'Um...' There's a pause of a couple of seconds on the other side of the line, then a small sigh. 'I guess the free coffee sounds good?' It sounds more like a question than a statement, and suddenly, Eddie feels a bit stupid about the whole thing.

'I'm sorry,' he blurts out. 'I totally get it if it's not really what you expected of this. You met my uncle, and I know he's pretty awesome, and, like, wildly attractive and stuff, but if you expect me to be like him – that's not at all what I'm like, you know. So it'll probably be good for both of us to get that out of the way. To establish that we are not at all attracted to each other and happily move on.'

'Yeah, yeah, sure,' says Steve. 'Sounds good. I can't wait to find out what a terrible match you are for me.'

Eddie is relieved to hear the guy softly chuckling. 

Pt3 Seriously the response to this silly lil AU has been sooo lovely, thank all of you so much for your kind words and hilarious tags, it made my day 🥹 Altogether the whole thing will probably get to +/-7 parts, so if you feel like that’s a bit much to keep following, please don’t feel awkward about telling me you’d like to be removed from the taglist, I don't wanna spam anyone!

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon

[cjsoleil]

Fallen Like Stars and Raindrops (Seungmin x Reader)

Summary: Seungmin is the baseball star at their university and his girlfriend loves him more than anything, even though she doesn’t like the sport.

Warnings: Smut

Authors note: So I wrote this just because there are a lot of works that perceive Seungmin as more mean, which is fine, but I wanted to write him being soft and sweet with a lot of fluff. Enjoy.

Baseball is one of the most boring sports in the world. Well, for Y/N, all sports are boring, but especially baseball. When she tells people this, they always ask the same question.

“How could you say that?”

Their shock is understandable, she is dating the star baseball player at their university. Y/N responds with,

“Watching baseball is boring. Watching Seungmin play baseball is not. It’s an entirely different thing.” It doesn’t make much sense, but watching Seungmin play baseball is really just watching him do something he loves. If Seungmin loved to watch paint dry, Y/N would be right beside him, enjoying herself as the glisten of the walls disappeared.

Despite not loving the sport, Y/N loves going to all of Seungmin’s games. Loves how happy he is, loves the way he looks for his girl in the crowd, clad in his old jersey that is too big for her with his number 07 on the back. Seungmin grins at her and she rolls her eyes with a smile. Seungmin always looks for her after a good pitch or when he returns to home base. Like a dog looking to his owner for praise. Y/N holds up her camera, taking a picture before blowing a kiss and waving him off.

At the end of the game and after Seungmin finishes changing, he runs back out to meet up with Y/N. He will either hug her quickly, since neither of them love public affection, and tell her that he and the team are going out to celebrate their win. He’ll invite her to come and maybe she will, depending on her mood. Or he will choose to ditch the team to hang out with her instead, not that they mind. Today it’s the latter.

“Next time you drive.” Y/N comments from behind the wheel of her car, “You only learn by practicing, baby.” She’s been teaching Seungmin to drive. He hates driving, but she insists it’s a necessary skill. Her hand lays on top of Seungmin’s on the stick shift. It’s for muscle memory she tells him, when they both know she really just wants to hold his hand.

“So you had a good game? I saw you won.” Seungmin nods.

“Yeah.” He shifts in his seat, “I kind of wish it lasted longer.”

“Still full of energy?” He hums in agreement. Seungmin is a person who is very calm, but can be very restless at times. Y/N taps her fingers on the wheel a few times as an idea pops into her head.

“I know a way to help you with that.”

Y/N is not athletic. She does not play sports, she doesn’t like sports. Despite this, she finds herself in this situation a lot.

“Come here, pretty lady.” Seungmin smiles and gestures for his girlfriend to come to him with his hand. When she gets close enough, he wraps his arms around her waist from behind. They’re at an empty park, throwing around a baseball. It was Y/N’s idea, Seungmin loves playing with her. She knows because she asked him a while back,

“Baby, you’re my favourite person to play with.”

“What a sweetheart, but you don’t have to lie.” He smacked the back of her head very lightly.

“Don’t be a brat.”

Y/N will always let Seungmin teach her how to throw or to use a bat for the hundredth time. It makes him happy, never frustrated or even annoyed no matter how many times he needs to show her how to do something.

Seungmin places a firm kiss on her cheek.

“Like this.” He uses his foot to move her legs apart slightly and puts her into a good throwing position, “You’re getting better, but you need more power to your throws.” He holds her hand with the ball and imitates the motion of throwing it multiple times.

“You don’t need to make excuses to get your hands on me Min.” She teases, tilting her head up to look at him. He rolls his eyes and pulls away, rustling Y/N’s hair before putting his baseball hat on her head. When he’s far enough away, she throws the ball the same way a pitcher would, a really bad pitcher, and he catches it easily.

“That was good right?” Y/N asks as she goes up to him and he shrugs.

“Good for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Generally you're pretty bad-“ Y/N dramatically gasps, cutting him off.

“Ouch. Feels like you stabbed me in the heart Kim Seungmin.” He frowns at her bad acting. They stay at the park until a few drops of rain start to fall, “Looks like it might storm.” Y/N comments, looking at the gray clouds in the sky. She’s happy it didn’t start to rain until after Seungmin’s game, he hates it when they’re canceled, “Let’s go home. Don’t want you to smell like a wet dog.” She failed to dodge the baseball he threw at her.

“Abuse.”

“Idiot.”

Y/N taps her fingers on the steering wheel, listening to Seungmin as he starts to sing along softly to the song. It’s heavy downpour coming down, they’re lucky it didn’t start until after his game. Seungmin’s also lucky, since he got out of driving for the day.

“If baseball doesn’t work out, you could always become an idol.” Y/N tells him after a few minutes, making him laugh, “I’m serious Minnie. Beautiful voice with a face to match. Any company would be lucky to have you.”

“Stop it.” He blushes, looking out the window.

“We wouldn’t be able to be together publicly though. At least not until you went solo. I guess the forbidden, secret romance could be fun at first. But I’d miss you too much. I’d probably have to become a manager just so I could follow you around. Maybe a stylist, I’d make you look so cute, not that you don’t already but-” Seungmin listens as she goes on about the fake scenario.

“Maybe in another life.” He tells her, and seeing they stopped at a red light, he lifts her hand and kisses her palm.

“You think we would still be together?”

“We would.” He answers like it’s obvious, “In whatever fictional or hypothetical lives you make up for us, I love you in every one.” He pauses, before continuing, “If I were to be stuck in a world without you in it, I think I would rather not be there at all.”

“For someone who doesn’t believe in fate, you sure talk like you do.”

“You’re my universe, of course I am with you in every one. ”

The girl shakes her head and pats Seungmin’s hand,

“Shut up before I crash the car.”

Their apartment is small, but it’s enough for the two of them. They used to live on residence, but decided to move in together before the start of third year. They each have their own bedrooms, but Seungmin is the one with a bigger bed. His room is less cluttered as well. On his bed, Y/N lays on her back with Seungmin resting between her legs, head on her stomach. She scrolls on her phone with one hand, running the other one through Seungmin’s fluffy black hair.

“Your stomach is loud.” He tells her, and Y/N pulls his hair in response but doesn’t do anything more. He pulls up her, really his jersey, kisses the bare skin of her stomach.

Y/N reached over to place her phone on the bedside table, knowing where this will lead.

“I won my game today.” He kisses her hip bone, biting softly.

“I know, and I’m proud.” Moving up, he faces Y/N and kisses her for a few seconds before pulling back, smiling against her lips.

“Don’t you think I deserve a prize?” He whispers against her lips, eyes fluttering closed.

“Calling me a prize?” She grins, watching as Seungmin blushes, “You know how to charm me, Min.” Laughing softly, she cups his face,

“Whatever you want, baby.”

She can hear Seungmin inhale sharply, and it’s endearing how flustered he still gets with her. Taking off his sweater first, he reveals his lean torso.

“My eyes are up here.” He teases when he sees Y/N’s stare. She grabs the hem of the jersey she’s wearing, but her hands are pulled away before she can take it off,

“Leave it on.”

“Possessive.” Seungmin can’t defend himself because it’s true. He likes having his girl to herself, and he gets a little jealous when he sees her with her teammates at times, even though he will never admit it.

The athlete moves back to his original position, arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist as he kisses and nips along her stomach. When he eventually gets frustrated with the barriers between them, he stands up. In just a few seconds Seungmin is left in only his boxers, Y/N in only a jersey. When he’s back on top of her, he kisses along her neck, leaving a few marks as he moves along. Licking a stripe up her jaw before kissing her lips even after they turn bright red.

“Pretty.” He mumbles, more to himself than to Y/N, “My pretty girl.” Bringing his hands behind her back, he traces the number on the jersey as he has so many times before. It’s long enough to almost reach the girl’s knees, giving a false sense of modesty.

“I love it when you wear my jersey.”

“I like-“ Her breath hitches, feeling Seungmin’s hands wander further down, blunt nails scratching lightly against her lower back, “Like it when you wear them too.” Seungmin smiles as she presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, ignoring the fluttering feeling he gets in his stomach from a simple compliment.

Seungmin sits up and moves off of the girl, resting his back against the headboard. Y/N follows him, sitting on his lap with her arms around his neck and his hands find their place on her waist. He can’t see it, but he can feel her dampening his boxers, making him moan and rest his head on the girl’s shoulder.

“Fuck baby.” He groans, and it’s almost funny to hear him swear since he doesn’t do so often. His right hand moves down her waist with a feather-like touch until he reaches the intimate spot between Y/N’s legs.

“Minnie-“

“You’re so hot.” Seungmin interrupts, and Y/N can’t tell if he is referring to the way she looks or the actual heat that’s coming from her skin. Probably both.

He’s gentle as he coats a finger in Y/N’s wetness, as he pushes it inside her hole and swallows every sound she makes. He adds another, scissoring his fingers to stretch her out.

“Seungmin.” She pants out, digging her nails into the man’s shoulders when he just grazed that spot inside her, “Min, love, please I’m-“

“Wait.” He adds another finger. moans when he feels her tightening around them,

“Just wait, baby. Just a second.” His fingers slips out of her and he grabs her hips to lift her up slightly. With Y/N’s aid and some awkward shifting, Seungmin manages to remove his last piece of clothing.

“Lay down.” He tells her, pushing her slightly. Once she’s on her back, Seungmin leans over and grabs a condom from the bedside table, putting it on before he moves back between her legs. With a steady hold on himself, he slowly pushes into Y/N. They moan in unison as he does.

“Tell me when you’re ready, pretty.” After a minute, Y/N taps his back.

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t lie.” Nodding, Seungmin plants his forearms on each side of Y/N’s head and moves his hips slowly.

She tilts her head back, eyes closed as Seungmin starts to build a slow rhythm.

“Love you.” He whispers against her neck, kissing the skin there right after.

“Min, faster?” She asks even though she knows what his answer will probably be.

“No.” He pants softly, mouthing at her jaw before kissing her earlobe, “No just- let me go slow.” He grabs one of her hands, intertwining their fingers he repeats,

“Let’s go slow baby.” Y/N whimpers as he hits that special spot head on, but still smiles softly.

Sometimes Seungmin is the opposite of this, fast and almost desperate with his movements. Or he will act as if he has all the time in the world, going painstakingly slow just to be a tease.

Right now though, it’s him being sentimental. Trying to convey the love he has for his girl with every movement of his hips, touch of his fingers and graze of his lips.

Y/N feels a warmth cover the side of her face, thumb rubbing against her cheek.

“Look at me.” It’s easier said than done, but she manages to open her eyes to admire the sight above her. Seungmin’s hair sticks to his forehead, skin flushed and shining with a thin layer of sweat.

“Good girl.” He whispers and Y/N runs her fingers over Seungmin’s chest and stomach making him shiver slightly. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling the athlete closer so they’re chest to chest. It really only takes a few more minutes for Seungmin to start to lose his restraint. Despite his previous words, he starts to move faster, practically knocking the breath out of Y/N when he does.

“Seungmin I’m-“ she’s cut off as his mouth covers her’s. Both their lips must be swollen by now and it hurts when Seungmin softly bites her lower one. After pulling away, he shoves his face in Y/N’s neck, bringing one hand down to rub at her clit.

“Oh fuck!” Y/N cries while throwing her head back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, “Min!” She feels his hand grab hers, intertwining their fingers. He gasps her name and goes a little harder, squeezing her hand.

“Come, please.” He tells her, lifting his head from her neck, “So pretty when you come.” Seungmin slurs out his words and rubs her more harshly, making Y/N jerk her hips and dig her nails into Seungmin’s hand as she falls over the edge, vision going blurry.

With a few quick thrusts, Seungmin finishes with a quiet whimper. He allows himself to rest on top of Y/N, kissing her neck and up her jaw softly. Y/N runs a hand through his hair, before lifting his chin and bringing his lips to hers. After a few moments, having slightly caught his breath, Seungmin pulls out and throws out the condom before falling on his back beside his girl. The two pant whilst staring at the ceiling.

“How are you?” Seungmin asks Y/N, shifting and wrapping his arm around her waist, “Need anything? Want something?” She moves a little, resting her head on his chest and giving him a quick kiss there.

“I’m fine.” Her voice is almost covered because of the rain pelting the windows. She’s lying, she actually is pretty hungry, just unwilling to move. Seungmin runs a hand through her hair just like how she did to him earlier. As he expected, Y/N’s breaths start to steady, indicating that she is almost asleep. He pulls her a little closer to his chest, bending his neck down to peck her shoulder.

“Goodnight my love.” Seungmin whispers before closing his eyes, allowing the sound of rain hitting the window along with the warmth his girl is giving him to lull him to sleep.

“Night Minnie.”

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Top Shelf Love: Prologue

A/N: So, if you know me, you know that I love hockey. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's hockey romances because they are always so inaccurate that it's take you out of the story SO QUICK! Like what do you mean the captain of this NCAA D1 team is undrafted? What do you mean she magically has access to an NHL locker-room in the middle of a game? So this is my response to that! A super self-indulgent Nessian Hockey AU. For additional hockey context: Cassian is a defenseman for the NY Rangers; Rhys is a center for the Montreal Canadiens; Az is a winger for the Nashville Predators; and Lucien is a winger for the Toronto Maple Leafs. Anyways! Hope everyone enjoys this prologue and this absolute meet-ugly! Happy final day of @nestaarcheronweek

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Next Part

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, tilting her head back against the leather of the seat. Almost instantly, she scrunches her nose, the stale scent of cigarettes, of sweat and previous occupants, flooding her senses. Eager for a distraction, she peers out the window instead. The skyscrapers loom like shadowed giants on either side of the road, a cascade of colorful lights spilling from their windows and reflecting off the wet roads, the puddles from the earlier rain. Throngs of bodies move along the sidewalks, neither the late hour or the dark clouds still clinging above deterring them clearly.

The city that never sleeps indeed.

The cab jerks to a stop along the curb, the driver not even bothering to turn around and say anything to her, merely tapping the fare display. With a roll of her eyes, Nesta fishes her wallet out of her purse to pay before finally slipping out of the cab. At least the driver pulls her suitcase from the trunk, setting it on the sidewalk beside her.

“Nesta! You finally made it!”

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow back down another sigh, takes all her willpower to force at least a hint of a smile to tug across her face. She can feel her earlier annoyance still simmering just beneath her skin, can still feel the exhaustion weighing down her bones. She’d give anything to be back in her own bed right now, anything to slip beneath her pile of blankets and curl up with a good book, but she’s here for Feyre, here to celebrate her baby sister.

So Nesta rolls her shoulders and plasters on an even wider smile before she turns around. But she should have known better, should have known that despite the physical distance between them, there’s no fooling her sisters. From the way Feyre raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching up in the barest hint of an unimpressed smirk, it’s clear she sees straight through Nesta.

“Sorry,” Nesta winces, her shoulders drooping already. “Journey from hell.”

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Elain offers with an easy smile, stepping forward and taking the handle of Nesta’s suitcase.

“Or five,” Feyre adds with a chuckle.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t exactly disagree. A stiff drink definitely sounds appealing after the nightmare of the day she’s had.

“I saw online that a lot of flights were just straight canceled, so I think you’re lucky to have made it at all,” Elain comments, leading the way along the sidewalk.

“I don’t know that I’d call a six hour delay lucky,” Nesta grumbles, practically shuddering at the memory of being stuck sitting and waiting in an airport for so long.

Nesta follows her sisters inside the building, but they take the elevator down, rather than up, Elain leading the way toward a black SUV. She tells her sisters more about the horrible journey as they walk. About the surprisingly long line at security. About the storms in the midwest and the delays and havoc they wreaked on all flights. About the child that seemed determined to scream for the entire five hour flight.

Once Nesta’s bags are securely locked away in Elain’s car, they return to the elevator and take it all the way up to the eighteenth floor, the doors opening with a soft ding. There’s no stopping the way Nesta’s jaw slackens as she takes it all in. A large centerpiece extends from the floor and fans out into the ceiling, the lights embedded within it casting the entire bar and its occupants in glittering golds. Live music seems to be coming from somewhere, twining and molding with the laughter, the conversations, filling the space.

But it’s the windows that really draw Nesta’s attention. Floor to ceiling windows seem to line every wall, offering a truly panoramic view of all of New York City and the Hudson. It’s a picture perfect view of the twinkling lights and night sky through the rain droplets still clinging to the panes.

“Wow,” Nesta breathes, taking it all in. “This place is definitely nicer than I was expecting.”

“If you think this is nice, you should see their venue.”

It takes a few moments for Elain’s words to register, but then Nesta is snapping her head toward Feyre. “You have a venue already? Does that mean you’ve picked a date?”

“Yes,” Feyre answers, unable to bite back her grin. “Next summer. July specifically, after Rhys’s season has ended.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit optimistic to think he’ll still be playing through June?”

“Elain!” Feyre exclaims, reaching out to smack the middle Archeron in the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” Elain shrugs innocently. “It’s true. I mean what’s their current record again?”

“Because the Leafs do so well when they choke every year?”

“At least they make the playoffs.”

Nesta snorts softly at her sisters’ bickering. “Since when did you become a sports fan anyways, Elain?”

“I guess Lucien’s been filling her with more than just his dick.”

“Feyre!” Elain squeaks out, her cheeks flooding with a blush.

“Darling,” a deep voice practically purrs, interrupting them. “There you are. I was wondering where my beautiful fiancée got off to.”

“Rhys, this is my oldest sister, Nesta,” Feyre offers, sidling up against Rhys’s side, her fiancé’s arm settling over her shoulders with comfortable ease.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” Rhys greets, holding up the glass in his free hand in a mock cheers. The gesture is a bit sloppy, some of the amber liquid in the glass sloshing over the rim and spilling across his fingers, and Nesta realizes there’s a haze to his violet eyes.

“It’s an open bar,” Feyre mouths, clearly reading Nesta’s expression.

“You don’t have a drink in your hand,” Rhys suddenly says, as though he’s only just realized. “We need to fix that immediately.”

Rhys turns on his heel, pushing his way through the various guests gathered to celebrate him and Feyre without a care. Nesta rolls her eyes, but Feyre has a wide, soft smile on her face as she watches him go, eyes practically sparking with fondness. It’s clear this is the man that makes her youngest sister happy, so she can’t fault him too much.

“He’s right, you know. You do need a drink still,” Feyre says, looping her arm through Nesta’s.

Feyre leads the way toward the bar built around the large centerpiece. She leans over and gets the attention of one of the bartenders with ease, ordering what she tells Nesta is the couple's signature cocktail. It seems to be some sort of margarita, a deep blue in color with edible glitter that looks almost like stars swirling through the liquid.

“So…” Feyre starts, taking a sip of her own drink.

“So…?” Nesta echoes, although she has a strong suspicion she already knows where this conversation is going. She knows that expression on her sister’s face all too well.

“Rhys’s brothers are here tonight.”

“And you need to stop being such a busybody.”

Feyre sighs, turning so her hip leans against the bar, facing Nesta fully. “Why? I’m an excellent matchmaker. Just ask Elain…” Feyre looks over her shoulder, but frowns, turning in a full circle with her eyebrows pinched low. “Wait. Where did Elain go?”

“She and Lucien probably found some dark corner to fuck like the bunnies they are,” Nesta answers dryly. It’s certainly the trend with those two, vanishing for a few hours before appearing again with slightly mussed clothes and hair, pink often clinging to the apples of Elain’s cheeks and a wide, shit eating grin plastered across Lucien’s face.

“That just proves my point! At least tell me you stalked his Instagram or something.”

“Emerie and Gwyn did.”

Her best friends had been trying to convince her to get back out there for a month now. Even with how much time has passed since everything happened, it still feels strange. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Emerie from dragging her out to bars for trivia nights and karaoke as if they’re the best places to meet someone new. It hasn’t stopped Gwyn from trying to tempt her to start a dating profile on at least one of the plethora of app options.

It hasn’t stopped either of them from hyping her up after they spent so long helping Nesta to piece together the shattered fragments of herself, of her life, back together. It’s why Nesta loves them, why she doesn’t know what she’d do without them.

But when Feyre had suggested setting Nesta up with Rhys’s adopted brother, practically raving over the phone about what a good fit the two of them would be together, it had been like blood in the water for Emerie and Gwyn. Nesta had barely hung up with her sister by the time Gwyn had tracked down his social medias and had them displayed on the television ‘for the best viewing experience.’

Cassian Valdarez.

Any other emotions aside, Nesta can admit he’s attractive, that much was clear from the photos and videos on his Instagram. With his dark, curly hair tumbling down to his shoulders, his bright hazel eyes. He had been grinning widely in most of the photos, golden skin of his cheeks stretched and crinkles popping beside his eyes. But even the one where his lips were tugged up in a lopsided, cocksure smirk had Nesta staring.

Nesta had done a lot of staring.

Staring at the photo of him in sunglasses and shirtless, lounging casually on some sort of boat, wide shoulders and swirling lines of ink on full display. The photo of him in a locker room, dressed only from the waist down, showing off the tantalizing lines of his abs, his v-lines. The Reel of him working out, chest heaving and skin glistening, biceps bulging with every lift of the weights. The reel of him stick handling with just gloves, in a tank and shorts, the muscles and veins of his forearms working with each flick of his wrist.

“Okay, and?” Feyre’s voice draws Nesta back to the present.

“And what?”

“And what did Gwyn and Emerie think?”

Nesta sighs softly, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “I mean, they said I should go for it.”

“Ha!” Feyre exclaims, loud enough to draw the attention of a few others up at the bar. “See? I’m right. A perfect match.”

“Feyre, don’t you think—”

“Feyre, darling, I keep losing you.” Rhys slips into the space behind Feyre, wrapping an arm around her waist. He dips his head enough to press his lips to her neck before raising his gaze to peer at Nesta over Feyre’s shoulder. “Sorry. Do you mind if I steal my fiancée away for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Nesta assures him, but it’s Feyre’s gaze she meets. “I’ll be fine.”

Feyre and Rhys vanish into the crowds hand and hand, and Nesta settles at the bar, sipping her drink. Her eyes flit around, but she truly doesn’t know anyone here outside of her sisters. And despite her earlier words to Feyre, all the people, all the sounds and the lights, are starting to grate against her nerves, prickling and dragging along her skin like nails. Even downing the remains of her drink doesn’t seem to help, the alcohol only weighing heavy in her gut.

Leaving her now empty glass on the bartop, Nesta spins on her heel and stalks toward one of the walls of windows. She glances around at the different tables set up, the booths that line the windows and offer the perfect seats for the views beyond. Maybe she can find a dark corner to hide in for a few hours, or maybe, if she’s lucky, Elain and Lucien will decide they want to leave early to continue whatever they’ve started in an actual bed.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

The deep voice has a shiver skittering up Nesta’s spine, warm breath fanning across her ear. She spins around and comes face to face with a pair of hazel eyes, a cocksure smirk she’s only seen in photo-form before. Cassian Valdarez, in the flesh. He doesn’t even bother for subtly as his gaze rakes over her, and Nesta has to swallow hard as she tracks the way he licks his lips.

“And what if I wasn’t?” Nesta dares to ask, raising her chin.

Cassian chuckles, stepping closer into her space. “I think we both know you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Cassian’s hand reaches up in the space between them, snagging one of the stray strands of Nesta’s hair and twisting it around his fingers. Those same fingers skate down her neck, across her collarbones, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch traces over her shoulder and down her arm before finally closing around her wrist, Nesta’s breath hitching at the warm of his hand, the size of it, and she can do nothing but follow along as he tugs her toward one of the booths by the windows.

He lets go long enough to fall back against the cushions, for Nesta to settle beside him, but then his hands are right back on her. This time, his palm slides against the skin above her knee, fingers teasing along the hem of her dress. His other arm stretches along the back of the booth, all but curling around her shoulders as he leans into her.

“You look gorgeous in this dress, you know.”

“But let me guess, it would look better on your bedroom floor?”

“You said it, not me, but I don’t disagree.”

Nesta snorts quietly, tempted to tell him that it was wrinkled when she yanked it out of her suitcase before she awkwardly changed into it in the airport bathroom. But she never gets the chance to. Cassian lifts his hand until his fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her chin up enough that he can slot their lips firmly together.

The kiss takes Nesta by surprise, but it doesn’t take her long to respond. She moves her lips against his, Cassian’s grip on her chin holding her exactly where he wants her. When his tongue slips into her mouth, she moans softly, fisting a hand into the front of his shirt to keep herself steady and to keep him close.

Cassian pulls back just enough that he can murmur, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” Nesta blurts out before she can stop herself. She’s certainly not opposed to the idea, but with tonight being the first time they’re meeting, she thought he might want to get to know her more first. What exactly did Feyre tell him about her?

“You know what they say. No time like the present.”

“I should probably tell my sister I’m leaving then.”

Cassian’s eyes seem to glint, even beneath the low light of the bar. “Is your sister here? Does she want to join?”

Nesta is sure that she must have misheard him. “What?”

“It could be fun. Two sisters, one hockey player,” Cassian says easily, even daring to wink at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Nesta can do nothing but gape at him, her mind reeling with this turn in conversation, but then it hits her like a ton of bricks. “You don’t know who I am.”

Cassian chuckles again, that cocksure smirk of his never slipping for a moment. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

“Do you even know my name?” Nesta snaps, pulling further away from him.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, sweetheart. All that really matters is you knowing my name so you can scream it tonight.”

“You didn’t even want to ask for it before you kissed me? You don’t even want to ask for it now?”

“Look. We both know what you came here for, what you puck bunnies are always looking for, and trust me, sweetheart. I am more than happy to give it,” Cassian offers, the way his eyes dance over her frame again nothing short of a leer. It stokes the anger flaring in Nesta’s veins higher, until it burns bright and hot.

“Wow,” Nesta scoffs, pushing up to her feet. “Fuck you.”

Nesta doesn’t even wait to hear whatever sputtering response he might give before she turns on her heel and stalks away from Cassian, pushing through bodies to put as much distance between them as she can. She’s never felt more stupid, can’t believe that she allowed Feyre to convince her that Cassian was some great guy, that the two of them would be some perfect match.

She can’t believe that she had started to believe her sister’s words, that that damned hope had started to bloom and put down roots in the gaps between her ribs.

Because of course. Of course, Cassian is just like every other guy, only thinking with the head between his legs without a single care for what happens once the sun rises. He’s exactly what Nesta expects from a professional athlete, cocky and sure of himself, expecting every girl to fall at his feet ready to worship him and suck his dick.

She finds Elain and Lucien in one of the other booths near the opposite side of windows. Elain has her legs draped across Lucien’s lap, giggling around the straw of her drink. Lucien seems to be smirking through whatever story he’s telling, his arm stretched across the back of the booth, fingers toying aimlessly with the soft brown curls of Elain’s hair.

“Can we go?” Nesta interrupts, looking between the two.

Elain blinks a few times, but then she starts nodding her head. “Of course. You’ve already had such a long day.”

Elain pushes up and to her feet, wobbling just slightly in her heels, but Lucien is there right behind her, his hands spanning across her waist to steady her. She smiles over her shoulder up at him before turning her attention to her purse, rooting around with a frown.

“Wait. Where are the keys?”

“I have them, my love,” Lucien answers, holding up the keys dangling from his fingers. He turns his attention to Nesta, offering her a wink. “Don’t worry. She’s not driving.”

Lucien slides his hand into Elain’s, leading all three of them through the party and back toward the elevators. Nesta keeps her head down as she follows behind her sister and brother-in-law, and she certainly doesn’t bother to look back. Besides, it’s not like anyone is watching her. She’s quite confident a certain hockey player has already found some other poor, unsuspecting girl to capture his attention.

And as they take the elevators all the way down to the parking garage and back to the car, she vows to herself that she’ll never think of Cassian Valdarez ever again.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies

[sehodreams]

riize MTL to make you get on the phone with your boyfriend while they're plowing into your uterus and making your vision blackout with stars

TW and tags: cheating, fingering, p in v, drunk sex, toxic!ex!Seunghan, toxic!Eunseok, idk what else.

Sorry I got a little carried away with Eunseok and Seunghan haha I love Eunseok too much, I hope you like it anon!

Also, I'll be honest, this is not a MTL of who would do it, this is a MTL of who would be the most evil while doing it, and sorry for not writing for all of them, I just couldn't imagine the others idk why.

Most

Eunseok

Seunghan

Wonbin

Anton

Least

Eunseok

He doesn't want to be your boyfriend, but he doesn't like sharing you neither. You've been with your boyfriend for months already, but you had met Eunseok before you started your relationship, being just fuck buddies, and since he told you he didn't like relationships, you accepted to date the new boy, who was sweet and kind, while Eunseok ghosted you whenever he wanted, making you exhausted of his game.

So, if he was the one leaving, why would he always bother you coming back? He did the same thing once every two or three weeks, and you hated yourself because every time you felt he was about to come and see you, instead of getting angry, your pussy would get wet, the memory of him pounding your insides enough to get you like that, and that night was no different.

Your boyfriend had gone to a work trip, talking to you every night at the same hour to tell you about his day. You watched the clock, Eunseok was between your legs, drinking you like the beer he had before knocking your door, and when you were about to cum you remembered the phone call that would sound in less than 10 minutes, I can't, you told yourself, not because you felt bad cheating on your boyfriend, but because you knew Eunseok would fuck you for a lot longer and you wouldn't be able to talk.

Your phone lighted, showing your boyfriend's name in the screen, and you wanted to hide it, but Eunseok was faster and grabbed your phone before you could, accepting the call.

"Hi babe" your boyfriend said, and Eunseok, instead of leaving you alone to talk with him, inserted two of his fingers in your pussy, making it squelch, a sound you wished no one could hear through the phone.

"Hi" you answered how you could, then biting your lip to not let the noises come out of your mouth.

"You have no idea what happened today" he started to tell you everything, how his team almost messed up, how he fixed the problem, expecting you to tell him how proud you were, but you couldn't talk, your eyes were rolling and your lip was almost bleeding from the force you were using to not let a single cry come out of you while Eunseok played with you, showing you the cheekiest smile you had ever seen, making you horny and angry at the same time.

You tried to tell him to stop, pushing his hand away and shaking your head. He said an I don't want to silently, increasing the speed of his fingers inside you, and when you were shaking, almost cumming, he pulled them away.

You denied, how could he do that? When you were so close? The voice of your boyfriend kept talking in the background and Eunseok got closer to your ear, moving both your hands over your head and maintaining them with one of his, "babe, such a lame way to call you, doesn't he know you prefer being called slut?" Your pussy got tighter around nothing when he talked, and you tried to say no, but you couldn't form a single sentence, "if you're someone else's babe, I shouldn't fuck you, don't you think so?" You cried, head back to the pillow, tears blurring your vision, "or what are you?" He asked, slapping your pussy with his dick, the sound undoubtedly heard by your boyfriend. You shouldn't answer, you told yourself, he would heard you, but did you care enough? What was more important, to mantain your relationship or to get pounded by Eunseok? Such an easy choice "I'm your slut" you said, and he, smiling proud of you, pushed his dick into your cunt, which welcomed it with such a satisfaction it clenched around it immediately, feeling so good that you, happy to finally be fucked like you should, couldn't contain your moans anymore.

Seunghan

He was the best boyfriend anyone could have, so he always asked you, why did you decide to break up with him? He just couldn't understand what you said, that he flirted too much? He was just friendly. He never answered your calls if he went out partying? He couldn't hear it with the loud music. He fucked your best friend? He was just drunk and thought it was you.

Everything he did had an explanation, including the fact that, even when you broke up months ago and you had moved on with a new boyfriend, he had to see you every weekend to help you get off, it wasn't his fault that you decided to start a relationship with a guy that couldn't fuck you like he did.

It was the typical friday night and he was already in your room when you arrived from your date, "did he fuck you?" He asked when you closed your door. "Yeah, why?" You answered, making him smile and poke his cheek with his tongue, laughing at you, "well, you don't see happy enough" he replied. You denied with your head, tired of his shit, "Shut up and do your job".

He laughed loudly and pulled down the waistband of his joggers and his underwear, his hard cock bouncing as a result. You didn't waste a second and walked to him, kissing with need and moaning into his mouth.

Something you had to admit, and hated, it was that Seunghan was the best fuck you've ever had, not finding anyone good enough to make you feel like he did.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was so shameless, he didn't hesitate to go down on you, eating your cunt until you cried and pulled his hair, moaning into it when you hurt him, he also fucked you really good, he knew how to move, when to stop and when to rut into your hole, not being afraid of shoving his thumb on your ass.

Still, it was exactly that shameless side of him what made your actual dynamic possible, he didn't mind that you fucked other guys, because he knew you would always go back to him at the end, and he loved the way he didn't have to prepare you before he slided inside you, you dripping with the thought of him using you after the boy you were currently seeing.

And you couldn't deny it, you had no sense of shame neither, because when Seunghan pulled out your phone and scrolled through it, you'd continue moaning, perfectly knowing who was on the other side of the line.

Wonbin

When you needed to feel loved, you would call your boyfriend, when you needed some extra cash, you'd call your boyfriend, and when you needed to get fucked, you'd call Wonbin.

He liked that, he liked having the benefits of a relationship without spending his money and energy on you, he loved that you even sent him gifts with your boyfriend's money, and he loved the way you would receive him with open arms without any question.

When you were together you always wanted more and more, but after much pain and understanding that the first, second and third place on his heart would always be himself, you decided to find someone who appreciated you, however, he's Wonbin, it was impossible to forget him.

And Wonbin's such a bitch, he knows he shouldn't bother him, he pays his expensive gifts after all, but he likes to see your scared expression all the time, you trying to keep his identity as a secret was his favorite amusement, hear you lying to the poor boy telling him you were staying at your friend's house instead of with him always made him laugh, when you sent him your location so he knew were you were but not with who he smiled, and when you sent him pictures of your shopping spring without him knowing half of those bags were for Wonbin, he felt fucking horny.

So, it's only natural that he likes you to maintain your boyfriend content, obliging you to always answer his calls, even when you were together, and he wouldn't stop doing his work, fingering you or eating your pussy, whatever he was doing, he wouldn't stop, Wonbin liked to think it was his way of saying thank you to that boy too, because if he made his girlfriend happy, he'd be happy too, right?

Anton

This crybaby, he keeps going back to you because he loves you too much, and it hurts his heart to know you have a boyfriend, but he would rather share you than not have you at all.

Your phone ringing with him inside you distracted him, that unique ringtone always sent a shiver through his back because he knew who was calling, and he felt ashamed, but he loved you so much he couldn't help it, "Answer, and tell him you prefer me, I know you do", he'd say, stopping his movements so you could grab your phone, and then, perfectly knowing you'd never make his wish come true, listening to you talk to your boyfriend pretending you were tired or busy, out of dissapointment with himself for being so pathetic, he'd rut his hips into you harder, making you suffer to contain your moans, because if he was suffering, you'd do it too.

[grapefives]

FUN IS LOGICAL | HC

senku x gn!reader

set in ishigami village + volleyball player reader + fluff + light angst + light humor

as we know, senku isn’t very… sporty… fit… mm

“I’M DONE!” he heaves as he lays flat on the ground.

you huff, “we haven’t even started a match! all we’ve done is teach you the stances and-“

you go quiet when you know he isn’t even listening, his body is literally still as a dead body.

with a defeated, glum sigh, you walk away, teasingly walking over him to who knows where.

for certain, he’ll go back to his blueprints and try to please everyone except you.

first he saves ruri, then works night and day to prove how good his intellect is. it’s tiring, being on the side line.

speaking of side lines, you missed doing everything in your power to not have the ball go there.

you missed the thrill of running around, tensing your muscles for the ball’s impact and making up strategies to win

you sigh at the fond memory.

“so,” you jolt at someone’s voice, not having realized you were sitting on a rock and staring into space.

“kohaku,” you say with a gentle smile, not really in the mood to talk to anyone.

“what’s wrong? you seem pretty defeated, did you fight with senku?”

“hm? no, no we didn’t fight,” you shake your head.

“then?”

you turn to stare at her, fondly. “i don’t know man-“

“i’m a woman!”

“-i just miss playing volleyball. the thrill of it all. scraping your knees, your elbows when you fall from saving the ball. knocking into a groupmate and just… spending hours playing with friends… being competitive… i miss that.”

“volleyball…” kohaku mumbles, “is a game? sounds like a battle.”

you laugh, “almost! a battle to win and.. ah man,”

“woman.”

“i miss it.” you say, staring up into the sky. “i ask senku for just a moment…” you frown, “he has his own thing, something he loves. i don’t mind helping him, i know this is the best for humanity but, i just wish i had volleyball as my escape again.”

kohaku frowns, “what’s stopping you?”

you give her a look, “i don’t really have anyone to play with, senku made this ball for me and just gave it to me like he’s trying to get rid of a child.”

“that’s rude.”

“i guess,” you shrug.

“i still don’t get how you to are together,” she says honestly.

you smile, “me neither.”

she sees you sigh, looking anywhere with a saddened smile. “you know,” she starts, “while everyone appreciates the new things senku is showing and providing us, there’s no harm in learning games. after all, it’s something someone invented, right? something for people to also enjoy?”

you stare at her, surprised at this. “well.. yes-“

“then teach us! there’s lot’s of people in the village that would love a good competition! i’m sure sure of us warriors would be up for it!”

“are you serious?” you asks, heart racing with excitement.

“duh.”

and you stand up, following her back to the village. you see senku once more in his little world, a world you barely fit in.

but that’s okay, you’re looking forward to something more.

“volleyball!” you hear kohaku yell, “i dare you all to learn it and play!”

“hey, don’t force them-“ you try.

“it’s a game!” she grins.

“we have responsibilities, kohaku,” one of the warriors said.

“we could take a break,” another one says, “it’s pretty quiet today. “plus, games bring on challenges, no?” he asks you.

“well, yes. absolutely.” you smile, hoping you could at least round up four people.

“i’m down for a challenge!” another pipes up.

and soon, you got your six people, you and kohaku included. it was enough for you.

they were pretty good at listening and executing the practices and the stances. before long, they were ready to play.

it was so exiting, you’re pretty sure you were smiling the whole time, but your face doesn’t hurt.

what made you feel even better was that everyone else was enjoying it! two rounds later and a crowd started to form, mostly kids and teens but there was cheering and clapping.

you were soaring. and your team won.

“alright! guys! it’s getting dark!” gen says with a clap.

“that was great!” you laughed, drenched in sweat.

“water,” kohaku gasped.

“get your water over here please,” gen yells.

“good game guys! y’all learned fast!” you said as everyone ran towards gen.

“or you’re good at teaching,” senku’s voice came from behind.

you tensed, unsure whether to be petty or forgive him for his lack of attention and affection.

“maybe,” you end up saying. you don’t pay him more mind as you try to walk over to gen.

“here,” senku says, grabbing your arm with one hand and the other shoves water in your face.

“oh,” you take it awkwardly. “thanks.”

he stares at you before furiously wiping his hand on his coat.

you spit out the water you were gulping down. “you’re still disgusted with my sweat!?”

he makes a face, “why wouldn’t i be? you’re so sweaty!”

“senku, no one told you to touch me!”

“well i wanted to!” he pauses, “plus, we’re dating.”

“yet you still hate when i’m sweaty.”

“it’s unhygienic.”

you rolls you eyes. and the two of you are enveloped in a slightly stiff silence.

“it’s been a while since i’ve seen you like that.”

“three thousand seven hundred years.” you say casually as you gulp down the rest of the water.

he stares at you, a look you can’t quite decipher. “yeah.” he scratches his neck, looking away. “i’ve always liked seeing you play.” he pauses, “i hope you had fun.”

you stare at him for a second. then you smile, “i did.”

“sorry i suck at that. i know you’re upset.”

“it’s fine, guess it’s just been so long since i’ve seen you that i really wanted to spend time with you.”

“can’t fault you for that.” he says, sparing you a glance. he almost seems ashamed.

“you hungry?” you ask.

he’s about to shake his head but he remembers he hasn’t eaten all day. instead, worked and every now and then watched you play.

as he watched you eye a food cart, he remembers how the two of you would eat at one after school, especially after your practices.

with a smile, he nods and takes your hand, which you grin at.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

until the morning comes {finnick odair}

plot: it's the day before the 75th hunger games and you and finnick share one last night together.

character: finnick odair x reader

His body is warm and comfortable, arms wrap around you tight and strong, he feels like home as you rest on him. Your eyes squeeze shut, trying to keep the tears at bay and trying to keep this memory forever. You have until the morning comes and then after that... who knows?

Tomorrow Finnick will be taken away to compete in another Hunger Games. Tomorrow will be different for it's victors of previous games that are competing. It's bullshit, you think, he went through hell and back and now they're making him do it again? Bullshit. You hate it. You hate them; Snow. Finnick does too but there's nothing the pair of you can do about it. It's got to happen and that's the end of it.

You should've ran away when you had the chance.

Finnick's eyes are trained on the ceiling as he tries to push the thoughts as far out of his head as possible. He has until the morning comes with you. It may be his last morning with you. The thought kicks him in the stomach, almost winding him, making him feel nauseous. The thought of going back into the arena terrifies him but even more so, it angers him. The rage burns strong and bright under his skin, coursing through his veins, a fire in his heart. How dare they do this to him again? How dare they make him compete again? After all that happened...

Your sniffing brings him back.

Wordlessly, he pulls you closer until your torsos are pressed together and your cheek is pressed to the crook of his neck. His hands rub your back, relishing in the way your skin feels beneath his nimble fingers. He wants to remember every single detail about you, every dimple, every freckle, every blemish; he wants to drink you in and keep your memory vivid and alive.

After all, he doesn't know if he'll come back to you.

No, he thinks, can't think like that.

He pulls you up, littering gentle kisses all over your face; your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, the corners of your mouth and then presses several soft kisses to your lips. He hates the sadness in your eyes, the tears that want to fall, the tremble in your lips. The pair of you stare deeply into the other's eyes, silently saying everything you want to.

I love you.

Be safe.

I'll do my best.

"You are the one thing that will keep me going," he whispers, the first words spoken in a few hours, "but please... no matter what happens, you have to carry on. No matter what they say about me, no matter what happens to me... you have to keep going."

All you can say is one word, "Please." It doesn't need an explanation, Finnick understands immediately.

Please stay alive. Please come home to me. Please don't die.

Finnick's eyes flood with tears and all he can do is nod. He pulls you down to him again as you both weep softly. Neither of you can believe that this is happening, that he's going again. Finnick's told you the horror of the 65th games and now, 10 years later, he's going to compete again.

For a while, you're silent again, the only sound being the ticking clock which hangs on the wall. You refuse to look at it, not wanting to know how long or little you have left. A few hours at least but it won't be enough. How can you fit the rest of your lives into a few hours?

Finnick's hand reaches to your cheek, stroking the soft skin gently, "We should try to sleep." His suggestion falls on deaf ears. Neither of you will sleep, you both know it. You'll be too worried about the morning, about the games, about him never returning.

You have until the morning comes.

It's a while later, you start to hear the birds singing outside and you know that morning fast approaches. Finnick shifts, propping himself up on his elbows to reach under his pillow. You lift your head, looking at him curiously.

"A promise," he says softly as he opens his palm to you, holding a ring. It's a simple ring, gold with three shiny diamonds, it looks expensive, "A promise that I am yours and you are mine. A promise to try my best to return to you. A promise that if-" when "-I do, we shall be wed immediately." His voice wobbles towards the end, "A promise that I shall love you for eternity." You're a mess of snot and tears as you sob into his arms. He holds you tight, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he too weeps quietly.

Goddamn Snow.

When the morning comes, it comes fast and furious with sun streaming through the curtains and already, you can hear the chatter of District 4. It's not long before there's a knock from the front door and Finnick gets dressed. Neither of you speak, you just watch with tired, stinging eyes.

It's when he's ready, that's when you stand and approach him for the last time. He kisses you, soft and lingering, not really wanting to let your lips go until there's another bang at the door.

Time's up, morning came.

"I love you," you croak as you begin to cry again, "please, Finn-"

He nods, knowing what you want to say. He kisses your forehead then lifts your hand to kiss the engagement ring that now resides on your left hand, "I promise," he whispers.

You hold his hand until he opens the front door, "I love you," he says, turning to look at you. He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. God you love that man with everything you have. His hand slips from yours and then the door closes and you dissolve into tears once again, on the floor in the hallway, house suddenly seemingly overwhelming large and empty.

Until we meet again.