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atrwriting · 4 months

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future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

#corio smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #corio snow smut #corio fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus fic #coriolanus imagine #corio imagine #the hunger games #lucy gray #sejanus plinth #young coriolanus snow

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itsswritten · 23 days

Text

gone.

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 2K (It's just a little drabble really)

Warnings: Angst, feelings of not being good enough, unrequited love, rejection, read Az's bonus chapter as this is kind of a different ending to it!

Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on.

You’re not too sure how you found yourself here. Ensnared in a moment you shouldn’t have been a part of. Pressed against the wall, you couldn't escape the damning truth unfolding before you.

Fate, in its cruel irony, had thrust you into the heart of your deepest fear. It seemed as though destiny itself was spelling out the bitter reality—you would never be his, he would never desire you.

The gift box, wrapped in a serene shade of blue, felt like an anchor against your chest, the weight of it crushing against your heart and yet anchoring you to this spot all the same. With trembling hands, you clutched it tightly, your other hand clasped around your mouth in an attempt to contain the tumult of emotions threatening to spill over. You hadn't intended to intrude, only to find Azriel this Solstice and share your heart with him. After years of wrestling with your feelings, you had finally summoned the courage to confess to your best friend, hoping that maybe he might reciprocate.

But it was a futile dream. How foolish you had been to imagine that you would be the one to replace his infatuation with Mor.

No of course it wouldn’t be you, for hundreds of years you hadn’t been able to steer him from his longing of Mor. It had to be another, the lovely Elain Archeron.

The scent of their arousal hung heavy in the air. You should have moved, but you were frozen in place. Your eyes glued on their figures as you watched them draw one another close. It was as if the Gods were forcing you to accept your reality– you would never be good enough for him.

You swallowed hard, stopping the nauseating sensation rising up your throat. You were losing all control here, completely succumbing to your emotions. You weren’t sure what you would do if you actually saw them kiss.

At the top of the stairs, Rhys suddenly stood, his fury palpable as he observed the scene below. A silent exchange passed between him and his brother, you had known Rhys and Azriel for so long that you were always aware of their mind conversations. However, you never knew what was said. But by Azriels indifference, you could tell it wasn’t good.

Before Rhys winnowed away, his gaze found you. Your figure hidden in the shadows, his expression faltering as his eyes locked with yours, confusion spread across his features and then pain– pain for you.

You hadn’t realised till then, how your salty tears had slipped down your face. Wetting the floor beneath you. How they had revealed how you truly felt, something you thought you’d always kept so well hidden.

And perhaps here in your weakest moment, your own mental shields hadn’t been the strongest. Your anguish spilling over to whoever was able to feel.

With a fierce swipe, you brushed the tears away.

You watched as Azriel left to find Rhys, leaving a bewildered and confused Elain to collect herself before she ran out of the foyer. It was then the emotions overcame you.

You sank down against the wall, the tears flowing freely now, your quiet sobs echoing through the empty corridor. You had been so foolish.

You had seen the signs, noticed the bond growing between Azriel and the middle Archeron sister. Yet, you had dismissed it as nothing more than Azriel's innate kindness, his dedication to helping Elain adjust to Fae life like the rest of you had also supported. It never occurred to you that his actions held some deeper meaning.

And Rhys's fleeting glance had only added to your humiliation. To how stupid you had been. You didn't need his pity or anyone else's.

You already hated yourself enough for your naivety and foolishness.

The gift box lay abandoned beside you, a painful reminder of your misplaced affection. With trembling hands, you tore off the ribbon and unwrapped it, revealing the carefully chosen present inside. It was a handmade sheath for Azriel’s dagger, Truth Teller. Beautifully made from leather, with six subtle stones set along the top.

Purple, for Rhys. Red for Cassian. Blue for Azriel. Followed by Violet for Amren, Crimson for Mor and Sapphire for you. The original six. His first found-family.

As you traced the stones with trembling fingers, memories of simpler times flooded your mind. The dynamic of your found family had shifted with the arrival of the Archeron sisters, whom you loved dearly. But their presence had irrevocably altered the delicate balance you had once cherished with Azriel and the others. You hadn’t realised how their entry into your life would change so much.

Maybe it was your fault for thinking it wouldn’t.

~~~

Azriel snarled softly.

"Snarl all you want." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage.

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. "Get out. And while you’re at it you owe y/n an apology for making her privy to your foolish actions tonight."

Azriel faltered a second. You had seen him? He hadn’t even noticed, his shadows had always vanished when in the company of Elain and they hadn’t notified him of your presence. In fact they rarely ever did. You were the one person who his shadows had always seemed to favour.

Fuck.

You had witnessed his reckless behaviour. It was a jarring revelation. You were one of his longest standing friends. There was no doubt in his mind you would be just as livid as Rhys for his actions.

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house, searching for you.

Finding you in the library, Azriel approached you with a gentle call of your name, his voice filled with remorse. Your back was to him, and he watched you shudder slightly at the vibrations of his voice.

“I’m sorry you were witness to my actions earlier, I’m sure you have-”

“Forget it.”

Azriel was taken aback by your brazenness, the tone in your voice was something he’d never been on the receiving end of before. You moved swiftly in front of him, your back still to him as you placed your book back on the shelf.

“Right.”

Azriel struggled to understand your motives. Were you pretending not to have seen anything to spare his embarrassment, or had Rhys instructed you to keep silent?

“Well I am truly sorry.” He spoke again.

“Why do you keep apologising to me?” your voice wavered for a moment.

“Because you’re my friend, and I’ve implicated you-”

“Friend. Right, of course.” You clung to that word bitterly, you couldn’t help yourself. You had spat it back so venomously.

Azriel always knew you better than anyone, could tell when something was off and there was clearly something wrong. He stepped forward, touching your wrist to get you to turn at him.

And then he saw.

He saw the pained expression. Tear stained face and red puffy eyes. In all his years of knowing you, he had never seen this look– a look so broken.

Who had hurt you?

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You scoffed, pulling your wrist away from his grasp. Despite the hurt simmering within you, a newfound confidence surged through you. After mustering the courage to confess your feelings to Azriel, only to be met with rejection by his actions, you felt a liberating sense of release– you had nothing left to lose.

And quite frankly you just didn’t care anymore.

"It's you," you spat, your words dripping with bitterness as you locked eyes with Azriel, the pain evident in your glassy gaze. "It is you who has caused this."

Azriel's confusion was palpable, his brows furrowed as he struggled to comprehend how he could have hurt you so deeply. He felt his shadows coil around him protectively, but they remained silent, offering no explanation for his transgressions. Whether they didn’t know or they refused to tell him.

Your lips quivered slightly as you drew in a sharp breath, your fists clenching at your sides.. "It's my fault, really," you admitted, your voice tinged with self-blame. "For being so foolish, for ever thinking I–... That I would be good enough."

Azriel’s expression bore confusion, but seeing your pain was breaking something inside of him. He tried to reach for you again, wanting to soothe you but you stepped away from him.

Something started to gnaw on him then, deep in his chest.

"I know I could never compete with Mor, so I never even tried," you continued, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "I hoped maybe with time you’d realise that was never meant to be. Maybe eventually consider me instead…”

You had said it. Admitted your truth. Azriel’s eyes widened in shock. Your confession hung in the air, the weight of your words hitting Azriel like a punch to the gut. For a Spymaster, he had failed miserably at deciphering your true feelings. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, you pressed on, your voice thick with unshed tears.

"And I noticed how you didn’t look at her the same way anymore," you choked out, struggling to maintain composure. "I thought maybe it was because we’d gotten closer. I was so foolish, I realise that now. It wasn’t because of me."

"Wait, Y/n," Azriel interjected, his voice laced with urgency as he stepped forward, his hands gripping your arms firmly.

Azriel's heart sank as your words pierced through him, revealing a truth he had been too blind to see. He had never known, never even considered, because in his eyes, you were one of the most precious people in his life – too precious for him to ever believe he was worthy of.

Your voice quivered with emotion, and Azriel's chest tightened with guilt as he realised the depth of your pain. "I know I'm not as lovely as Elain," you whispered, your words like a dagger to his heart.

"Don't say things like that," Azriel pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You are so incredible—"

But you cut him off, your words slicing through the air with a finality that left Azriel reeling. You refused to hear anything else from his lips. Those lips that had been so close to kissing Elain.

He watched helplessly as you moved out of his grasp, your every movement causing that feeling in his chest to grow. You picked something up from the table behind you, turning to face Azriel once more. Somehow forcing a soft sad smile across your lips.

Azriel's throat tightened, his breath catching in his chest as he gazed at you. In that moment, you seemed more fragile than ever, your vulnerability laid bare before him. He had always considered you beautiful, too beautiful for him, too kind, too good. And now, as he stood face to face with the pain he had unknowingly caused you, his heart ached with regret.

"I've held onto these feelings for so long, hoping one day you might feel the same way," you confessed, your voice heavy. "But I think tonight was the Gods' way of telling me it’s time to let go."

Azriel's hands trembled as you pushed the gift box into his palms, "Happy Solstice.” You whispered with a bittersweetness that tore Azriel’s soul. Your words, they felt so final. They felt like a goodbye.

With a shaky breath, Azriel glanced down at the box, opening, his fingers began to trace the intricate design of the sheath adorned with gems that he instantly recognised as symbols of him and his family. But when he looked up again, ready to speak your name in a desperate plea, he found only emptiness.

Finally, his shadows spoke.

Gone.

Next Part >> (by popular demand I have continued this, mwah)

a/n: This little drabble came to me last night, I wanted to inflict a little hurt. You are very welcome <3 - Lottie x

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #angst #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel imagine #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel series #azriel fic rec #azriel

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chuluoyi · 17 days

Note

only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

#zenin naoya x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #zen'in naoya x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #jjk naoya #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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i-cant-sing · 7 days

Note

I’m letting him smooch my forehead for the nth time if it means I get affection and smooches 🥹🥲 I’m desperate ok?! 🫠 mf I’ve been single for way too long… I need some dopamine…. Also Forehead smooches just hit different

Ugh Baldwin is just so- imagine being mad at him for whatever reason (maybe he was a bit late to come when you called for him because he was busy with court affairs and now he has to deal with a pissed princess who's huffing and puffing because she cant get her time machine to work and out of frustration, she misplaces her anger and takes it out on Baldwin).

He has you trapped against the wall, arms on caging you as you refuse to look at him. Baldwin is trying so hard to supress his smile, because you look even more adorable when youre mad.

"Princess-" he smooches your forehead. "No." You puff your cheeks, brows furrowed as you look to the side, eyes full of anger and distress. Another smooch to you kiss. "Princess, Im sorry-"

"No." You cut him off and he automatically lands another kiss, this time right under your left eye, if only to make you look at him momentarily.

"I'm sorry I was late-"

"You said- no! No more kisses!" You evaded his lips as you glared at him, making him pout. "You said nothing is more important than me. That you'd come anytime I'd call you. I waited for 2 hours! TWO HOURS!"

"I know, my love and Im sorry. The council had some affairs that needed to be dealt with immediately, and time just slipped out of my hand. I promise, it wont happen again." He jutted out his bottom lip (and although anyone else wouldve looked ugly like this, this is Baldwin we're talking about. he's never ugly.) "Forgive me?" His blue eyes held remorse for his mistake, and it didnt help when he brought them even closer when he rested his forehead on yours, making your breath hitch.

"I- uh- fine! Fine! I forgive you!" You finally breathed as your face turned pink, moving it away from him, only for the king to chuckle as he sweetly kissed the apple of your cheeks. "Thank you, princess!"

Ugh. Pretty privelege.

You shot him a glare. "What was so important that the council wouldnt let you leave anyways?"

"Hm? Oh, they wanted to discuss who should be allowed to attend our wedding night."

You stared at him. "What?"

"Well, as per tradition, they wanted to discuss who would be allowed to see us consumate-" he burst into laughter as you threw a book at him. Your face was all red as you began pulling at his blonde hair and was about to beat him when Baldwin suddenly lifted you up and slammed you on your bed, knocking the air out of you as he caught your wrists in one hand while the other tapped your nose.

"As if I would let any see my pretty little prude." He grinned, leaning down to kiss your nose. "You're all mine, princess. All mine."

For the rest of the day, you were too flustered to say a word to him, or even look at him. And so, it never occurred to you to ask him how he convinced the council to make an exemption of this tradition for you.

If you'd asked, Baldwin would've told you that the council wanted confirmation that their monarchs did the deed... to which lover boy replied-

"When you see the queen having to be carried around after our wedding night, you'll know."

#yandere king baldwin #yandere baldwin #yandere x darling #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #baldwin iv

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lw6-woso · 4 months

Text

not all sunshine and rainbows (wonze X child!reader)

travelling with a toddler could either go really bad or really good nothing inbetween, and it stress both your mothers a lot. it was the day of travelling all the way to Austrailia for the World cup. everyone was a little nervous for the trip, but nothing came close toLucy and keira. both girls had been planning for this trip for months, from inspiration to shopping it took a lot. you had never been on such a long plane ride before, and now that you are three it makes things a little bit more difficult with keeping you entertained for the 20 hour plain ride.

it was the morning of the flight and you felt a hand running up and down your back making you groan not happy to be woken up.

you slowly opened your eyes and saw your mama hanging over your cot "no mama seep time" you said to lucy trying to move away.

"come on lovey its morning we got to get breakfast" Lucy said to you, not wanting to make you grumpy and have you in a good mood for the day.

you slowly sat up and grabbed your bunny and blanket, you rocking major bedhead and lucy picked you up, kissing your head.

"big bed" you whispered as mama walked towards hers and mommys bed.

"yeah big bed gonna have some snuggles" mama said.

your mama drooped you on the bed and you instantly snuggled into your mummys bare chest. you looked on the bed side table and saw your dummy and reached for it and put it straight into your mouth snuggling back up

"hello my love whats with the dummy its morning time" mummy said but thankfuly didnt take it from you. you all snuggled for a little bit but unfortunatley you had to go for breakfast. your mums didnt get you changed out of your PJs and just sorted out your hair.

walking down to the lunch room and you ended up in your Mamas arms, still not funny awake, you still had your dummy in your mouth and in each hand was you bunny and blanket, at this point of the day your mama and mummy had realised that you were going to be quite clingy and just wanting to be in arms reach of both women.

your mummy got some food on your plate a little bit of each thing you pointed out and then you was sat next to leah whilst your mums went to get there own food, you sat happily eating your food, in silence. most of the girls where confused as they had never seen you this quiet you were normally dancing around, but not today.

your mama came back first and you gave her your dummy, which you did everytime you ate.

"thank you baby" she said kissing your head, and you went back to eating all your breakfast. once you ate all you breakfast leah asked you a question "ready ready to go on a plane today"

"big plane aunty lee lee" you said and she nodded.

"yeah i seep" you said figetting in your seat.

"your gonna sleep" she asked and you nodded.

you went over to you mama and sat in her lap and hid under her shirt.

"oh my little baby" mama said stroking your back.

once everyone finished breakfast sarina talked to everyone about today and then everyone left to do there own thing to prepare for the travel, the three of you went up to your room to pack everything and get your carry on bags ready. your mums were tag teaming with everything mama was packing the big bags and mummy was putting things in the small bags and getting you dressed.

"mummy bluey on pain" you said.

"yes baby we have movies as weel for the plane" she said and you went to sit next to her and watch.

"else" you said wanting to know what else.

"so your little bag you have snacks toys book lots of things to play with" she said.

"pull up" you said pointing to the several pull ups next to your bag.

"yes we want you to wear a pull up on the plane" she said and you nodded.

since you had just turned three a month ago you were still trying to get hold of potty training and with the amount of flying and change that will be happening today taking you having accidents both you mums wanted to take it out of the equation of problems that could occur.

"no acident" you said and Keira nodded glad you understood what was happening.

once all the bags were packed and at the door it was time to get on the coach. Mummy went to put the bags on the coach and you were sat with mama laid on the bed, your dummy back in your mouth.

"you going to be a good girl today" mama asked.

"yeah" you said through your dummy.

"so we are going to go on the big bus and then he big plane its going to be a lot of sitting down okay its a long time but if you want or need anything you got to tell me or mummy okay so we can help" she said and you nodded.

it was a little further into the day and you had reached the airport, the bus trip was good as you had a little nap on Leah's lap and you were now walking hand in hand with Leah walking towards security, when they all arrived to security, you were handed of to your mama, who gave you a kiss on the cheek when you pouted at not being with your aunty Leah.

"lee lee" you said to your mama trying to get out of her arms.

"hold on just got to get through security first" your mama said.

"no mama" you said starting to cry.

"hey hey what's with the tears" mummy said wiping your face.

"lee lee mummy" you said.

"oh lovey" your mummy said as you silently cried.

you continued to cry, until you were at the front of the line, your mama went through first putting you on the floor, causing you to cry hysterically.

"mama" you cried loud.

"come on the walk to me" she said kneeling down, but you made no efforts to move and just cried.

mummy was behind you and put her hand on your back making you walk through the metal detector and the moment you went through mama picked you up into her arms, as you continued to cry.

"no like" you said.

"i know baby i know its all over, now its time for the plane" she said wiping your face, trying to calm you down. once everyone was through security you all walked through towards the gate and you stayed in your mamas arm, with a death grip. everyone sat down and mummy came up you stroked your face.

"you want to go potty before we go on the plane" she asked and you nodded head resting on mamas shoulder.

"come on then lovey and we can get into so nice comfy clothes" she said picking you up and walking towards the nearest toilet. whilst mummy was getting you changed into some comfier clothes you asked.

"mummy bluey on plane" you asked.

"yes baby you wan watch bluey on the plane and in your own big girl seat" she said.

"with you and mama" you asked more questions.

"oh yes in between me and mama" she said.

"where lee lee" you asked.

"lee lee is next to mummy with g" mummy said now walking out of the toilet.

you walked towards your mama now a little bit happy after the little situation which wont me mentioned for the rest of the trip, you where happily sat on the floor with Georgia playing the goal being to tire you out a little bit which was working your dummy in your mouth and blanket in hand. you were rarely allowed your dummy during the day and only for night times, your mums both needed some comfort for you to have with a busy day like today.

after twenty minutes it was time to get on the plane, you were sat at the window looking at the plane whilst you everyone was boarding.

"come on lovey time to get on the plane" mummy said and you ran into her arms. walking into the plane you were skipping along with mummy by your side.

"where mama" you asked noticed her absense.

"she's on the plane getting your seat ready" she said, and you were confused what she meant by that. when walking to your seat you said hi to all the players and the staff and high fived Sarina.

"mama" you shouted when you noticed her.

"hello lovey" she said and she put you in your seat. which had your blanket bunny and other blanket set up.

you snuggled into your bunny and saw Leah poking her head around you mummy.

"lee lee" you giggled.

"hello baby you comfy" she said.

"yeah me go night night" you said.

"not yet to early for night night you haven't had your tea yet" Leah said.

"night night soon bluey first" you said.

"of course bluey" she said, knowing you always watched bluey before bed, after the hundreds of sleep overs you both had.

everyone was in there seat and the plane was taking off, your mama had given you a drink whilst the plane went in the air so your ears would pop without cause you any pain, you were sat in your own seat hanging over to your mama gripping onto her shirt clearly ready for a nap but your mums where advised not to let you sleep until about an hour or two in.

the plane had gotten up in the air, your drink was finished and everyone was moving about some to other seats and to the toilet.

"mama wee" you said to her.

"come on then" she said, getting out of her seat. you may have a pull up on but lucy was happy that you stuck to the routine of going to the toilet when you needed to.

after while it was now an hour and a half into the flight and everyone food was handed out and you were eating whilst watching bluey on the plane tv, happy as ever.

your mums where happy that you hadn't kicked off about something and you were the happy kid you were, well for the majority of it anyway, you ate your food happy and then climbed over you mummy and in Leah's lap almost instantly who was on facetime with Alex.

"well hello little bronzy" she said over the phone, and you snuggle into Leah's chest closing your eyes.

"right ill let you go and be with your favourite little one" Alex said.

"hey no sleeping you" Leah said poking you.

"night night with lee lee" you said finalising you wanted to go to sleep.

Leah looked over to Lucy who had sighed.

"you have to stay awake Y/N" mama said.

"no mama" you said sitting up with a pout on your face and your mama gave a you a look. you knew you shouldn't push when she gave you that look but you were two tired.

"night night soon okay you need your pjs first come one watch bluey for a bit" your mummy said trying to diffuse the situation but it only made you start the water works.

"you want to watch bluey with me" Leah said and you nodded.

tears still going down your face. all three women felt guilty just wanting to let you sleep but it was for your own good in keeping you awake. sitting happily in Leah's lap you were getting more and more tired by the minute, and your parents in looking at your tired face. mama had gotten up and grabbed your pjs and a fresh pull up with some wipes.

"some on then sleepy head" mama said and picked you up.

"bluey" you said.

"will be back with lee lee" she said carrying to the toilets, getting you changed was a struggle as you were to tired to hold your head up.

walking out the toilet you were in mamas arms and she walked up and down the isle trying to get you fully asleep, your blanket, dummy and bunny where in your arms, the plane was quiet everyone either asleep or calming down going to bed.

you weren't going to sleep, mama had noticed how tired you were but you were looking at her twirling her hair.

"go to sleep lovey" lucy said carrying on rocking you.

mama sat down with you and lifting the windows of cutting of the rest of the girls from the small family, mama took her shirt of and you your shirt of putting you both skin to skin, she rested your blanket on top of you both. and this got you fast asleep.

"all you needed was this" Mama whispered.

"proper mamas girl" mummy said.

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rizsu · 6 months

Text

you're married to geto suguru, yet you plan to kill him. interesting, right? truth be told; you despise suguru. you loathe his touch, hate his voice, detest his entire person as a whole. you never loved him — it was simply just toleration.

suguru... he's a decent husband, at most. he gives you money — which is most important — he buys you gifts, he's home, at least. suguru gives you everything but himself. you cried for his touch, he never gave it. you begged for his presence, he said he had pressing business to attend to. he's the best but worst fucking husband ever.

it's not only his negligence, it's him slowly replacing you with someone else. slowly, but surely, you've noticed that another person has been consuming your presence, wringing you dry of the little authority you had within the geto residence. at first, it bothered you to the core. every time you spoke to suguru about these concerns, your voice echoed through the walls like a broken record. in one ear and out the other; heard but not listened.

your tears dropped, yet to him it did nothing but cause a wet mess. he'd always sigh, feeling guilty to leave you spiraling in your emotions. "don't cry, love," he'd say, whispering sweet nothings in your head. he'd bring you to his chest, completely swallowing you in his hold. his fingers would caress your body, reminding you that you're a geto, you're apart of him now. you're not alone. only the foolish marionette will melt in its master's dull words. once the marionette was you, twice is what it won't be.

the honeymoon phase wilted, what's left is nothing short of two adults tied together by a piece of paper. a liar is what you refuse to be. if anyone may ask, you will not lie. it's true, your heart feels heavy. you miss the suguru you met as naive teenagers, you miss the suguru who loved you from the moon and back. unfortunately, what comes must go. you've grown tired of being the sole one who reminds him about anniversaries and birthdays.

his effort to maintain the marriage no longer exists. his attraction to the mistress heightens every week. it hurts, yes, but you're numb to it. hell be damned you've become the forgotten wife but never will you ever be the wife who allows her cheating husband to be.

no, never. they won't get a laugh out of you — they won't get the last say. the blame glazes over both, yet it soaks suguru more. as a married man, he should've known better than to entertain a mere lady's lust to him. now comes his price to pay, and soon she will pay hers. a circus that walks together, dies together.

it's never easy planning a murder. you don't want to get caught — prison isn't somewhere you'd want to be. the easiest and most effiecent way to ensure suguru's death will be poisoning. not just any poisoning, however. a poison that kills naturally; something that'll make his death appear natural.

suguru's always been a healthy man, using an excuse such as "he fell ill," won't work. he doesn't have much enemies. his peers loved him. a death by food poisoning seems much more acceptable. food poisoning occurs in many ways: for example, if the food has been left out for too long, boom, food poisoning. it's not unusual for one to die by it, so the plan sets sail.

──

one: errands.

as usual, your role of playing the forgotten wife will remain the same. running your ‘errands’ will be as easy as flipping a page, suguru pays you no attention. today it'll be the same. the only obstacle would be to find the energy to arise off of the bed.

the subtle sunlight grants the room a warming aura, giving the perfect contrast together with the air conditioner. like always, suguru's gone. the only trace of him being here would be your memory of him sneaking in last night. at least he has enough manners to not wake you.

same old, same old. you'll only waste your energy worrying about him, let's just finish the morning routine.

"morning," out of habit, you greet the empty house. coming out of slumber to be greeted by an empty home used to do numbers to you. now, it doesn't. its merely a house cosplaying as a home.

the oh-so fluttering dreams of a married life with suguru have dusted away. if only you can go back in time and stop your lovesick self. whatever, no use dwelling on it now. there's a plan to layout.

a single toasted slice of bread, your bottle of water, a handbag, and the car keys are all you took out the door with you. the house keys are attached together with the car keys so it's not a worry. not like you'll be back before suguru anyway.

the drive feels silent. although the radio's on, it feels empty. maybe it's the effects of your clouded mind, or maybe it's you attempting to clear your mind. either way, it's nothing but trivial matters. at this very moment you most likely have to stitch up a lie believable enough to obtain the poison.

chilly, is what you think. you're at the destination; it's an apartment complex that was in the makings but was abandoned. it's dirty, puddles of water decorate the floor, and its filled with dealers and criminals alike. can't blame them, it's the perfect place for a hideout. coming here alone as a woman is something you'd never do... without a weapon that is. you don't own a gun, but you do own a pocket knife.

"psst," someone calls out. they must be calling another person. let's just continue walking.

"you, woman," they call again. surely it's not you. let's just speed up the pace.

"oi, rude bitch 'm talking to you," they specify and surely enough they aren't calling you a bitch, right?

"you're not talking to me with that attitude," you turn around, raising an eyebrow at the man — or lady, you don't know. their face is covered and their clothes are baggy.

the stranger walks you to, and you walk backwards. okay, it's kinda getting creepy.

"any — any reason why you're coming to me?" you questioned, trying to mask your obvious worries.

"aren't you the one who's here for the poison, missy?" they stop walking, reaching into their pockets before bringing a small, white tube in view.

oops, you're caught off guard. if this is who you agreed to meet with you only hope they don't run with the poison.

"oh — yes, that's me! how'd you know?"

"have my ways. ain't a dealer if i don't know my clients — even if they're a one timer," they speak, handing you the tube. "name's siren. just an alias, don't question it."

you carefully take the tube, in return you quickly place the envelope in their hand. ready to get out of there, you ramble out your words, "okay, thank you! the money is in there, bye! see you never!"

siren watches your frame scatter away from them, the sounds of your low heels clicking the floor making them chuckle. crazy woman, they think, returning their focus back on the money.

you're back in the car safe and sound. you know what, it's time to go back. you lock your doors, hide the tube in your handbag, and turn up the radio. now that the errand's over, you probably won't go outside for two days.

ah, home. nothing beats being home. except suguru's car is parked so that means he's here. the home is now back to the house. inhaling a deep breath, you mentally prepare yourself to have any interaction with him. you have your doubts but something inside you screams that he's going to talk.

"where have you been?"

well, that was quick. you only managed to take your heels off. talk about an impatient man.

"out for a breather, why?" you return the question, walking into the living room without glancing at him.

"all right," he says, not continuing the conversation.

ladies and gentlemen, never get married. suguru no longer cares to hold conversations. you can tell the ugliest lies to him and he wouldn't care. as long as you're back, it's okay. you're used to it, yet a silent voice in you wished that he would've asked more questions.

you continue on without glancing at him, making your way to the shared bedroom. it's a little after noon, you'll take this time to relax.

──

two: weird individual(s).

it's hot — you feel hot. a burning sensation engulfs your head. this wasn't supposed to happen. you were making dinner, casually sipping on your glass of wine as you go along. suguru, for some reason, finally showed himself for the day. without a word, he seated himself near the counter, pouring himself a glass of wine and keeping his eyes on you.

to say you're not uncomfortable would be a severe understatement. his eyes create holes in your back — it's annoying. say something if you want to, asshole, you complained in your mind but truly, you yourself weren't going to say anything.

and so, you carried on. dinner being cooked and suguru being weird. it got even more weird when he stood up. you're at the sink, cleaning as you go along. suguru's finished with his glass, so it's not out of the ordinary for him to stand behind you, trapping you with both arms as he washes his glass, right? yeah, it's pretty weird.

"uh, do you mind?" you softly spoke, which was also weird. why is everything just weird tonight?

suguru stays in that position, humming to a tune you're not familiar with.

"is it wrong to be near my wife?"

oh, now i'm his wife.

"not at all, suguru. it's just that i'm busy at the moment," you told half the truth. you are busy, but you don't want him near you.

"is that so?" he spoke, removing one hand only to place it on your hip. slowly, he begins to squeeze the flesh, lowering his head into the junction of your neck and shoulder. his voice, though muffled, can be heard with a low, seductive tone, "missed you all day, why not busy yourself with me?"

bullshit, but it's not bad. you can do with some physical destressing.

"not in the kitchen."

"sure."

and that's how you found yourself tangled on top of him on the sofa. sloppily making out with him, hands found freedom in his hair, and his hands found home on your hips. it's a hot mess, and you're kind of liking it. suguru may be a bitch, but he sure knows your body. it's been five years, after all.

"wait—" you broke the kiss, placing your hands on his chest. "let's st—stop," you spoke, stuttering as suguru leans his head to bite your neck.

"why?" he asks, curious at your sudden choice. you never stopped him before.

"i.. don't feel good, sorry suguru," you lied again. suguru isn't and is the problem. you'd love to go deeper with him but the realization that he's touched another woman like this disgusts you. it's no wonder you plan on killing him.

suguru doesn't speak. instead, he moves you off of him. "it's okay," he says, leaning in to give you a kiss on the cheek. it doesn't take long for him to leave you alone again. now you're feeling a pinch of guilt. i'm not wrong, right? he's the one who abandoned me.

you sigh, lifting yourself off the sofa. there's a dinner to indulge in and trust, you will enjoy it. you made it with your blood, sweat, tears, and some wine.

──

three: poison attempt day.

surprisingly, you felt energized today. as if someone charged six-hundred volts of energy to a dead battery. today's the day, hopefully. the man who cosplays himself as a husband is absent per usual. it's up to you to cook lunch.

you're already preparing; there's no time to waste. every minute needs your utmost attention — the kind of attention a predator gives its prey before hunting them. the one downside to this would be the poison's taste. it's not an overwhelming one, but it's there. anything with a strong scent comes with a strong taste, they say. you haven't put it to the test — no way, you're not suicidal — but the safer side's always better.

ginger, you think, ginger and onions overpower everything. bingo. a minute¹ change to the recipe's ingredients but it's nothing to fret over. trivial matters again. within an hour, lunch was finished with a cherry on top — except the cherry holds the uneven balance between suguru's life and death.

you removed your apron, flicked off the water from your hands after you washed it, and then threw yourself face-first onto the longer sofa. exhaustion massages your body, encouraging you to fall into its depths. its opponent, emotional drain, creeps up. your body's the platform, and they're the contestants. a battle of who will dominate you begins; a useless battle for the woman whose tears dried up long ago.

a heavy sigh escapes, i'm tired, you think. sliding your hands under your head, you use it to cushion the side of your face. it's quiet like always but you're left to your thoughts this time. it may just crown itself for being the first time you gave yourself leeway to part and understand your tangled emotions. it's like a ball of tangled wires: scattered yet neat. roads to untangle it are visible, yet its many wires frighten the person.

what you feel is nothing short of some doll who replaces her face to satisfy the owner. the marionette you once were and refuse to be again. she who shows you, you who show yourself, who is the real you? perhaps, it's all. everything is you, everything has become you. many versions of yourself dance around the stage, all moving towards to same goal: killing the one who drained them.

the clock ticks, each sounded second rips your skin apart. it's torturous, but soon it'll all be over. i think i need a nap, your last voice echoes away in your mind as you succumb to exhaustion. who knew planning a murder against your once beloved could've been this draining.

─

suguru lazily enters, slackening his tie. his eyes focus on the lunch decorating the dining table. soon, his eyes travel to your resting figure. after all, you're in his usual position. she's sleeping, he thinks of the obvious, deciding to keep a low profile as to not wake you.

however, being a man means that you're prone to making mistakes... especially loud ones. from the cup connecting with the floor to the fork clanging as it fell, it's been a rather loud attempt at serving himself some lunch.

he's sure that you're awake. well, not entirely awake, but conscious enough to hear everything around you. the blame is his to own, again.

"it's untouched..." suguru whispers, confused at the perfectly untouched food that lies before his eyes. maybe you got a change of eating routine.

lies, of course. you'd be nothing but a joker if you were to consume the same food you poisoned. suguru doesn't know this, however. he's picked his path and the path hides its true face; wicked and heartless, like a haunted house pretending to be a normal house to lure in its victims.

it's been a few minutes later and you're now fully awake. you haven't moved an inch to expose yourself — just mindlessly gazing into the void of your shared house. you're aware that he's home, aware that he's found himself lunch, and aware that the clock's ticking sound has gotten louder. almost as if it knows its counting down someone's death day.

"is he eating?" you whispered, peeking from the sofa's backrest. "oh, he is."

suguru's at the dining table, scrolling on his phone as he shoves a vegetable in his mouth. his actions fill you with guilt, excitement, and fear. for a reason only god knows, you don't want him eating anymore. may it be due to loving him half of your life, or may it be due to the guilt of killing someone who mattered to others. whatever, who cares. no one — no one will, you chant in your mind, attempting to convince yourself.

"wait, suguru—" you acted out of your own will, cutting your speech short when you regained yourself. what the fuck? you're leaning over the sofa's backrest, reaching an arm out to suguru. eyes wide open, you try to piece together a reasonable follow-up response.

"hm? something wrong?" suguru asks, mouth filled with food. he places his phone face down and tilts his head. he looks innocent, as if he's not a cheating, neglecting bastard of a husband. well, that's the way life goes. the evil masks themselves as the innocent, basking in those who are more innocent than themselves, slowly consuming their energy for their own. selfish, selfish people.

"ah," you begin, awkwardly lowering your hand. "is the food okay? i tried a new recipe."

i don't want to kill him.

"yeah, it's good," he responds, taking a sip of whatever he's drinking.

he's wronged me.

you walk towards the dining table, pulling out a chair to seat yourself in front of him. "i see... how was your morning?" you questioned, swallowing hard. your legs are shaking, you don't know why. your heart races, you can't answer why.

"boring, same old stuff. i met with my client though, she's fun to be around," suguru tells, poking the food with his fork to get a good bite.

i fucking hate him.

you don't speak after that. instead, you bite at the skin of your lower lip. your emotions try to join together, yet they won't. it's like a lava lamp, they'll never truly connect. every time you're away from suguru, your hatred tames. every time he's back, it heightens. it doesn't take much more than his voice to fuel your restless anger. you observe him, watching the way his throat bobs each swallow. something feels off.

the two of you continue in silence, simply observing each other. suguru takes it upon himself to do the dishes, you remain put in the chair. his phone remained with you, face down yet dings with notifications. you've always wondered what it's like to have him text you every day. once it was a memory of the teenage years... now it's a sour dream.

──

four: night, night.

it's the same night, you're in bed with suguru. both of you are under the same covers, yet you're both at the extreme ends of the bed. a large, empty space separates you two. neither are asleep nor do they wish to be awake. a heavy feeling rains over their shared room. the tension's strong enough to break the strongest thread.

suguru's the first to turn, rolling himself over to you. he extends an arm to secure over your waist; this brings you skin-to-skin with his torso and your back. his head lowers to yours, resting his chin on your head. you give no reaction except stiffing your body. what's he up to?

his extended arm caresses you lightly, mimicking patterns on your delicate skin. he takes a deep breath before exhaling.

"my love, i know you're planning to kill me," he softly speaks, waiting for you to respond.

your heart drops. what? he knows? it's probably a bluff. you opt for remaining the way you currently are. if you continue pretending, he'll most likely continue speaking the truth.

"i've been watching you. i don't blame you, dear. i've neglected you for quite some time. i've cheated on you with someone temporary. if i were you, i would've killed me sooner. however, i won't lie and say i'm not hurt. if my wife were to kill me, i'd prefer it to be in an easy, quick way. you've chosen your part and i can't change that, but promise me: on my deathbed, you'll be there. it's not a request to mock you, but a request of seeing you one last time," suguru empties himself out, pouring onto you a bucket of words that hold the truth. the ugly truth you've avoided.

literally fuck off. it means nothing now, you think, judging suguru's words.

"i've been horrible and nothing can change that. i will not beg for forgiveness, nor will i beg for your love. it's already been done. but please, my dear... let me say sorry," his voice quiets to the end and the caressing stops. his hand remains firm, waiting for you to come out of your fake shell. "i know you're not asleep. answer me, please."

caught red-handed.

"i don't care for your fucking apology. it's a bit too late," you spit your venom out, thanking the gods that your back is what's facing him. "matter of fact, i hope you die soon. do as you wish, though. your time is limited."

suguru doesn't answer yet. his arm around you tightens. his breathing's getting uneven — you can hear it. it's shaking, the same way your eyes are shaking to prevent any tears — or as you call it, the pity tears.

he takes in a deep breathe, verbally exhaling a shaky one in return, "then, i'll apologize. i'm sorry."

that's it, huh, you think, almost voicing out your thoughts.

"it means nothing to apologize for actions i could've prevented a long time ago. so, i'm sorry. sorry that i've wronged you to the point you plot my death," he finishes, not having any more to say.

you wriggle out of his grasp, turning to face him. it's dark yet you can see his sadness. isn't that just too bad? the bar of the love you still feel for suguru exists, yet its overpowered by the hatred you've accumulated for him. it stings that he's going like this, but you rather it be by your own arms instead of another's.

"i don't have anything to say," you quietly speak, looking at suguru in the eyes. "if it doesn't work, then i hope you recover in the worst way. if it works and you die, i'll kiss you a merciful death."

the conversation ends. what's left are two adults staring into each other's eyes. there's nothing but empty voids facing each other. voids they once filled, voids they once created. it's too late; too late for anything. suguru's a petty liar if he says he's not afraid. who isn't afraid of death? he doesn't want to die, but what's done cannot be undone. he cannot turn the clock anti-clockwise and fix his actions. you won't be switching lanes, and it's set what the outcome will be.

minute¹ — pronounced my·new·tuh. meaning: extremely small. two synonyms: tiny, little.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#so this was definitely a thought #3.8k wc | tw. attempts of murder #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto angst #geto suguru angst #jjk angst #geto suguru x you #geto x you #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen angst

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bella-goths-wife · 3 months

Text

How the yandere bowers gang love reader

I’m just a girl trying to be deep with her writing while very sick and in her feels so please tolerate my trash 🙏

Warnings: non-con mentions but not explicit, mommy issues, daddy issues, physical abuse, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, injuries, forced relationships, dead dove do not eat, yandere behaviour, obsession

I do not condone or romanticise abuse, the abuse I write about is purely to educate and entertain. Please do not romanticise the abuse that is occurring.

MDNI

Henry bowers:

Love is a strong word, it’s not the pure love that you’d dreamed about since you were a little girl

No, this love is deeply depraved and disgusting

He cares about you in his own way, he’d kill someone if they ever hurt you with the same hands that have carved his initials into your delicate body

But he does love you, for some inconvenience reason he does love you in his sick and twisted reason

He views you as someone who can take care of him, someone who can make his lunches and make him feel better after a bad day

He would never admit it, but he sees you as someone who could fill the void his mother left

He loved and adored his mother more than anyone else in the world and she left him, so he had no one to pour all of those feelings into until he met you

Except these feelings are increased and made more sickening

That’s one of the reasons that, unlike Patrick, he won’t force himself on you

He tried to, believe him he really tried

But all he could think about was when he saw his dad do it to his mom, and the look of pure horror on his moms face

He could definitely see himself marrying you one day, I mean, he’s the one in the group who deserves you the most after all

He’d kill the other boys if he had to, he may see them as his brothers

But you, he sees you as his wife and the person who will carry his future children

Patrick Hockstetter:

Patrick’s love is based in lust, but isn’t entirely consumed by it

He knew he was attracted to you from the start, he probably would have tried to drag you off at a party before Henry staked his claim on you

He is mostly obsessed with the way he can control you

He, as Henry’s unofficial second hand, has the second most control over you

And he loves you for it

He can control what you eat, how you dress and how you spend your time

He can control if you breath during the times he chokes you

He blames it on his mothers death or his ‘rough childhood’ but he’s just a sociopath

Genuinely, I know I’ve been adding in what factors to them being like this for the rest but for Patrick it’s simple

He’s a sociopath

You may be wondering how a sociopath is capable of love, and well he’s not fully in love

He’s obsessed with you and some part of him cares about you, the same way he would care if his car got scratched

Your a possession, he doesn’t care about your personality or your likes and dislikes

But you intrigue and entertain him enough to get his loyalty in exchange for what you can do for him

He doesn’t feel guilt for how he and the others treat you and he doesn’t feel bad for the fact that they are completely destroying you

He’s the only one to actually recognise that what they all do to you is making you slowly break, he just does not care

As long as your not hurting yourself or others are hurting you, he does not feel the need to care about what happens to you

He doesn’t even care about the fact that he’s sexually assaulting you

He would enjoy it more if you were actively consenting but he doesn’t care that you don’t

Because for him sex isn’t about pleasure, it’s about control and when he has sex with you he’s showing you another form of his control over you

So yes, in a way Patrick does love you

But it’s the similar way he would love a pet or a shiny care, as soon as you lose your entertainment value then you’d become nothing to him

Unluckily for you, as long as the rest are interested in you you’ll never not be entertaining for Patrick

And as you can see, that’s unlikely to happen

Victor cross:

Victors love is based in possession

He knows your Henry’s girl

Henry may share you with the rest of the group, but you belong to Henry

That’s always how it’s been in the group

Anything vic owned Henry would eventually take away from him

He views Henry as a brother, but some dark part of victor hates him

Especially when it comes to you

Victor sees how rough Henry is with his affection towards you, Victor could be so much gentler than him

Victor wants to own you, to possess you fully

He wants you to only think about him, to only speak to him, to only fuck him and to only be with him

He has fantasies of killing the others and locking you away so you can stay with him together

He chalks it up to having everything he’s over owned taken away from him by the others, but it’s more than that

He wants revenge

He sees how the others are obsessed with you and how they love you, the same way he loved all the possessions they took from him

He wants to take you away the way they took his things

And he’ll kill the others if he has too

Belch Huggins:

Belch loves you for your approval of him

His entire life he has lacked people being proud of him

He has a dead dad and an absent mom, he wasn’t really spoiled for choice when it comes to people who appreciated him

He thought his growth at such an early age would gain him approval, but it only gained him fearful looks

But you changed that

You may not remember the insignificant comment you made but he’ll always remember it

“Wow, your pretty strong” you had commented once after he had picked you up to take you to bed “you’d be good to practice lifts with”

He felt a surge of adoration after you said that

Finally, someone decided he was worth something

You decided he was worth practicing with you, you practically decided he deserved to live in his eyes

He’ll be anything or say anything to make you approve of him

Accept for defying Henry

Henry knows best, and Henry knows when you need to be disciplined for you own good

So no matter how much you look at him with those beautiful sorrow filled eyes, he has to do what he has to do to make sure you are given the best chance at the life you need

At least, the life that Henry decided that you need

He loves you deeply and with a sense of desperation

At times he would seem like a puppy desperate for your love and attention, the other times he would seem like a threat who could kill you at any moment

#slashers x reader #yandere bowers gang #yandere bowers gang x reader #bowers gang #yandere henry bowers x reader #henry bowers x reader #henry bowers #yandere patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #yandere belch huggins x reader #belch huggins x reader #belch huggins #yandere victor criss x reader #victor criss x reader #victor criss #yandere it x reader #yandere slashers x reader #yandere slasher x reader

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girlystories · 4 months

Text

Two sides on the same coin

— pairings: Joseph Descamps x ex-rebellious reader

summary: you get expelled from your all girls school after an incident you get yourself into. cutting all ties with your troublesome friends, your parents send you to voltaire lycée in hopes you change your ways. an annoying prick, though, gets in the way of that, making you constantly on the verge of breaking your promise to your parents.

additional warnings: underage smoking, usage of foul language, mention of boobs ig?

authors note: very creative chapter title, ik. also really sorry for this late update, but i honestly don't haven't any excuse. it's finally here so I hope you enjoy. also i added a character from another movie cuz i can.

words: 3.9k

Chapter 1: The bastard with the dumb glasses

[Name] [Last Name] certainly wasn't expecting her first day to occur like this.

She fell down on her knees next to the wounded boy, who held on his left eye. He was whimpering in pain, making it obvious the punch he took to the face was serious.

Placing a hand on his back, she tried to receive any attention from him. She called out his name but didn't get an answer. Blood was dripping from between his fingers and his groaning increased before she was pulled away from him.

...

Lumière Lycée was nothing but a memory now, all what happened there only for the driven girl to want go remember, whenever she even wanted to. If she wanted to. She couldn't lie to herself and say it was a good time. On the contrary, it was a living hell for her. It wasn't a catholic school, but it was somehow aiming towards it.

She'd gotten in trouble one, two, three, or more times. Times she couldn't even keep track of.

Not that it even mattered now. No one would know of her past, her previous troublesome and somewhat rebellious nature in a place for her old school and only herself. It was a year ago from now, certainly she'd have changed from then. Or, in better words, she wanted to mask it deep inside. She promised it to her parents.

Moving schools meant moving overall, but she was sure she'd get used to the new environment sooner or later. Voltaire Lycée, the only academy daring to take things further and expand into a mixed school containing both boys and girls. Such a big change, things were seemingly passing so fast. It was the only thing the newspapers and radio were discussing about all day long for the past three days.

She was now brushing her hair, styling it while in her bathrobe. She added a small touch of makeup on her lashes, in a effort not to seem as tired from sleeping late the earlier day. Her anxiety forbid her from it. To bring some sort of color to her lips, she applied some chapstick. She didn't want to impress anybody, but didn't want to stand out by appearing like some sort of messy girl. That'd make a horrible impression. She opted to blend in with everybody else, which wasn't as easy since she was expected as one of the other few new girls. She'd stand out either way. How many girls would even attend that school anyway?

Either way, she hoped for a change. From having more than fifty absences, five to nine out of twelve marks, constantly snapping at her other classmates and breaking into fights, to becoming a lady with a future ahead of her.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, "[Name]," a soft voice called from behind it, "are you ready yet? Your father could give you a ride to school."

"No, it's okay," she got up from her chair, giving a last look at herself from her mirror. "I'd lather walk on my first day."

Her mother nodded and left without a word, leaving her to finish in getting ready.

[Name] opened her wardrobe, inspecting her clothes and in the end decided upon a matching set of a top and short skirt that she tried out the day before. Before leaving her room she wore her pair of Mary-Jane's.

She headed to her kitchen, where her parents were already awake, eating their breakfast before work. She took a seat and took a sip of her prepared coffe. "Good morning," she said.

Her father swallowed his own coffe before speaking, "Good morning. How do you feel about your new school?"

"Rather anxious."

"No wonder," her mother said. "A mixed school? It's a much troublesome shift from what we're used too. Wouldn't you agree, dear?"

Her dad finished his coffe, placing his mug down. "Well, we do what we can do. If only you would behave, [Name]."

"[Father name], " her mother glanced at him with knotted brows. "Don't start again."

He ignored her warnings, "Now make sure to get your shit together or else things will be really complicated. I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."

"I know," [Name] simply said.

Her mother still kept an eye on her husband and sighed, turning her attention at her daughter. "Now you have a nice day, okay? Be home right after school or if you want stop by the bakery."

[Name] finished her butter bread, taking her bag as she got up and went to the front door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she got interrupted. Internally groaning, she went back and kissed her parents on the cheek.

"Alright, bye," she finally said and left.

Since it was still early, she stopped at her neighborhood supermarket to buy herself a pack of Gauloises, thanking the owner and lighting one while on her way. Just then she realized she didn't know the way.

Minutes later she regretted not accepting her parents' offer to drive her to school. Cursing under her breath at her possibility of being late on her first day, she kept her fast pase as she took a turn on the street she thought the school was located.

To her utter luck, she was right. When she noticed the front gate inspector closing the door she jogged there yelling for him stop. He rose his head towards her, earning his attention.

He threw his cigarette, chuckling softly. "Lucky for you, it's your first day, miss, otherwise I'd have left you locked outside," he said and opened the gate for her.

"Sorry, it won't happen again..." she breathed out.

"Well, they haven't made their way inside. Mr. Belanger is giving a speech."

"Thanks," she said and walked hurrily where everyone stood.

On top of the building's stairs stood the school staff, the students surprisingly listening from bellow. She shoved herself between the crowd to catch a word he was saying.

"-Gentlemen, I expect you to...to be as polite, respectful, magnanimous and dignified as I know you can...when on your best behavior."

"Who is that?" she asked herself.

"The school's Dean," she wasn't really expecting an answer, yet a guy replied from beside her.

She nodded at him, staying silent for a moment before talking again. "Damn, I don't even know in what class I am."

"Don't worry. They'll call your name anyway."

Just then, a woman walked forward, holding a sheet or paper. "I'll now be calling the first-year's, then proceed the second year's due to the addition of female students."

"Just like that," he smirked and Mr. Bluebeard began reading the paper.

[Name] breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good. Because I was afraid of almost getting detention from being late."

He let out a laugh, "On your first day? There's no way a person could achieve that record. Not even me. I can assure you I've tried. I don't think you get detention from being late."

"No," she said. "I said almost. Wait, what do you mean y-"

The call of her name interrupted her question.

"That's your name, right? Seems like you're in class 1B."

"Oh, yeah," she said looking as some other students walked up the starts when their names were called. "See you."

She took a seat behind two girls, and as she did so smiled at them when they seemed to acknowledged her. Little by little everyone gathered in class, each taking their seats.

The woman that was calling out the students from before walked in. "I am Mrs. Giraud, your homeroom teacher."

Then, a girl with blonde hair entered the class, eyeing the empty seats anxiously. She had her hair styled with a headband that matched her dress which was beautifully complimenting her figure. It was no surprise everyone was looking at her with either admiration or a tint of desire.

She took a seat at a desk in the front, and [Name] felt somehow disappointed she didn't choose to sit next to her instead.

Mrs. Giraud noticed her gesture. "What's your name miss?"

She got up from her seat, holding her hands together politely. "Annick Sabiani."

"Where do you think you are, miss Sabiani?"

She didn't get enough time to respond at her question.

"Do you think it's okay to sit next to a boy?" she asked sternly. "Get your things."

She began doing so, but Mrs. Giraud interrupted her again. "No. You," she pointed towards the boy next to her. He looked at her for a moment and she continued, "Get up. Go sit in the back."

"But I can't see from there."

"Back row, now," she then looked at [Name], realizing she failed in noticing her presence before. "And what's your name, miss?"

She got up, awkwardly looking around the class and trying to ignore the stares. "[Name] [Last name]."

"You sit in the front."

She gathered her bag and did as she was told, still feeling the stares accompanied with whistling sounds and whispers. The boy tried to do the same, but someone put his foot in the way. That made him trip and almost fall, the group of boys laughing and making pig noises. "It's not your day, piggy."

The teacher did nothing about it, only complaining about being interrupted. "Quiet! As I was saying... Mrs. Giraud, with a "D" as in "discipline.""

[Name] wasn't listening what she was saying anymore, glancing at the person who was at fault of tripping the poor guy. He was grinning at his friend beside him, finding it wholehearted hilarious, like it was comedy gold. He fixed his glasses before he pretending he was paying attention to Mrs. Giraud. Instead he wrote a note and showed it next to him, the duo starting cackling quietly.

Next period was Latin, where she was met with Mr. Douillard. She ultimately ended up not having a really good idea about him, earning already a bad impression by him ignoring the girls when they raised their hand. She grew more and more annoyed when he pretended not to noticed her and she just stopped trying. Sabiani did not back down, though. Still, Mr. Douillard picked the only guy that had raised his hand.

"I think she raised her hand," the same guy with the glasses pointed out in a snarky tone. He pressed his lips together to hold himself from laughing.

Much to the teachers dismay of having to pick a girl student, he side-eyed Sabiani. "Indeed. So?"

She pushed her chair back, fixing her dress. "The Romans welcome Horatio with joy and congratulations and escort him to his house."

"The Romans "cheer" Horatio," he corrected, obviously not wanting to lower to the level of ever praising a girl, wanting to dismiss their existence entirely. "Can you conjugate the verb "ovare"?"

As Sabiani was answering, [Name] noticed the guy from before writing something on a paper, giving it to the person next to him and whispering something. The note was passed down until the teacher noticed.

"Give me that," he ordered, interrupting Sabiani.

The poor guy sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. From where [Name] sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

The unlucky person sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. [Name] knew of him. He was Alain Laubrac, a guy who happened to be in the same gang she used to hang out last year. She stopped hanging out with them after her expulsion, when she was grounded all summer, cutting all ties with them thankfully. She hadn't spoke to him since like the rest. From where she sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

"Think this is funny?"

"It wasn't me."

"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?"

No answer. The guy who drew it pretended he didn't know a thing, placing his pen under his bottom lip.

"Your name?"

"It wasn't me," Alain repeated.

"'It wasn't me'," Mr. Douillard sighed, "All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. 'It wasn't me'...'"

"My name is Laubrac," he corrected.

"Are you the boy from the foster care?"

The whole class chuckled at that.

"Some nobody's son's trying to graduate? How amusing. Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system? I won't let a bastard disrupt my class. Get out."

"But he didn't do anything!" a girl with blond pigtails protested.

"Nobody taught you to raise your hand in your girls' school, Miss Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the Dean," the teacher mocked, hitting the paper on his palm. "Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention too."

They both left the room with their heads low, the class filled with silence.

[Name] bit the inside of her mouth, raising a hand.

"Yes, miss?" the teacher complained.

"With all due respect, sir, but you're being really unfair," she said. Mr. Douillard was taked aback and she continued before he interrupted. "It was Picasso over there who did it," she eyed the glasses-guy from the back.

The smile he wore dissappeared, now glaring at her and preparing to argue something back.

"You've got a nerve talking to me like that, miss [Last Name]," the teacher said. "Don't think I haven't been informed of your performance in your past school. I'm not afraid to get you expelled here too."

The class suddenly filled with murmurs.

"Unless you want detention as well I advice you to sit back down."

She looked down and without having anything else to say she sat on her chair. Her grip on her pen tightened when she looked back and seeing the guy still stare at her, slowly forming a winning smirk.

Bastard, she thought.

Finally lunch came, and she exhaled a sigh of relief as she stood up from her seat, an instant need to stretch her body overtaking her. She only wanted to smoke as soon as possible, the necessity of nicotine calling out to her from not being present for a while. She closed her notebook and walked out the classroom as soon as there was space for her to walk through the students.

She walked down the big row of starts, avoiding in pushing the boy in front of her, but still having trouble keeping her patience.

Just as she was about to turn a corner she felt her face being hit with a flat surface, being jolted back.

"Woah, what's the rush?" she felt an arm on her shoulder and was met with a silly smile. It was the guy from earlier in the morning.

"Sorry," she said, feeling embarrassed. She allowed herself to groan, feeling free from expressing her feelings. Even in front of this guy she just met. "I just couldn't stay in that room anymore."

"I didn't know class 1B was that far off," he joked.

"You know anyone from there?"

"Certainly. I could name quite a few if you ask me."

"Ugh, then I'm sure you know. Speaking of, in what class did you end up?"

He placed a hand in his pocket. "2B," he smiled. "If my last name was different we could've been in the same class. Maybe then the school year wouldn't be so bad."

"Yeah, talk about luck," she played along his playful attitude. She didn't know where he was getting at, but he was at least tolerable. "Oh, hey, we haven't met properly before."

"You're right," he extended his palm, smiling at her. "Mick Travis."

She replied with her name, shaking his hand. "Mick Travis? Is that French or..."

"I'm originally from Britain, but I've moved here for a while. I don't know for how long but I'll do what I can in the meantime. Second year in this school and I can't wait to get out of here."

"Did something happen last year?"

"It's a long story," he said simply, changing the subject. "So, where are you headed?"

In the end they sat at a bench, under a tree to avoid the bright sun from blinding their eyes and having to constantly squint at each other. Travis sat sideways, his one leg crossed while the other was extended freely, his head resting on his palm, the other holding his cigarette.

[Name] lazily looked up at the tree as the wind moved it's leafs, making her almost fall asleep. "Are they gotta tell us something for not going to eat?"

"Hell no, I'm sure they know how ass the food is anyway. We're just saving our lives at the moment."

She hummed, putting out her finished cigarette.

"So," he adjusted his head, in a way to look at her. "What do you think of this school?"

"I don't know. But I hope this year passes quickly. Last year was the worst year of my life."

This peacked his interest. "How so?"

"Long story," she laughed when she realized he responded the same way before. "Maybe I'll tell you if I skip a class."

"Fine."

Break ended too quickly for [Name] to enjoy and she dragged her feet to class, with Travis having to sometimes push her while she groaned in annoyance.

She walked inside, making eyecontact with Sabiani and giving her a look of "I can't stand being here already." The poor girl only giving her a sympathetic smile in response.

She was about to sleep on her desk, when a commotion made her raise her head to see what was going on. Descamps and his friends – whatever their names were, she didn't even bother to know – were making a fuss over something, and she noticed quickly a bucket filled with water behind the door. Descamps grabbed it and attempted to place it on top of the door, ordering one of his friends to keep watch from outside in the process.

The class did nothing, and so did [Name]. It took her a while to realize that a prank was happening, so whoever were to walk in would get drenched in that dirty bucket water. She rose from her seat, throwing her chair back and scaring Sabiani from beside her. She did promise not to act out, in hopes of not getting unwanted attention from the teachers, but she had enough from that Latin teacher anyway. She wouldn't let anyone stop her now.

She walked up to him, pushing him and making him almost spill the water. He narrowed his eyes at her, before he flashed her a cocky smile. "What's that? Didn't you learn your lesson from getting expelled from your last school? Are you planning on doing the same thing here?"

She clenched her jaw at the nerve he had. He didn't even know of her, yet acted better than her. "I'll get expelled for this? You're the one putting a bucket on top of the damn door."

She felt a hand grabbing her wrist and she turned around. "Don't get involved, just continue sleeping on your desk like you were before," it was one of Descamps friends.

She snatched her hand away, "Don't touch me." Turning her attention back at the vile glasses-wearing guy, she attempted to take the bucket away from him, only for him to raise it over her head, mocking her in the process. She would've been intimidated by his height, but she was already used to scarier guys from last year. Descamps laughed at her unsuccessful attempts, then motioned something to his friend. He got the memo and held back [Name] by restraining her.

"Let me down!" she yelled, but they ignored her, finally Descamps putting the damn bucket where he planned from the beginning. She looked at the rest of the class, everyone doing nothing about the whole thing and staying silent in their seats. She made eyecontact with Laubrac, her eyes seeking for his help. He only looked away, hiding his shame.

The victim of the prank was Magnan, as the water completely covered her from head to toe. Her braids were starting to fall apart from her cute style. Her frozen body left in shock as she looked around the class, everyone watching her without reaction. [Name] felt shame when she realized the water made the fabric on her chest area visible, being stuck on her skin.

Descamps and his friends were the only ones breaking the silence in the room, chuckling to themselves and breaking out laughing, [Name] being no longer being held back.

Suddenly he swallowed hard and composed himself at the sight of Mrs. Couret. He looked at her nervously and placed both his hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Couret was in shock at first, but acted quickly, taking of her jacket and putting it around Magnan. She ordered [Name] and Sabiani to look over the class, but they knew that with both of them combined they couldn't control Descamps and his dumb crew. Moments later, they exited the classroom, headed to the nurses office.

If that wasn't enough, Descamps even drew on the chalkboard, being a picture of who she assumed was Magnan, her chest area being the most prominent. [Name] was about to go off again, but Sabiani grabbed her wrist instead, shaking her head at her to tell her to stop. After a bit of contemplating she backed down. Before she could even sigh in disappointment, a senior barged inside the classroom.

He pushed a guy from his way and swing at one of the guys that indulged in the "prank". Sabiani yelled at them to stop but it escalated even worse. Descamps went to defend him, and this lead to him being hit. In the eye area. Next thing she knew, he was kneeled to the ground. Everything had happened so fast, [Name] was frozen in place.

Without thinking she fell next to him, trying to get a look at his injury. It was pretty hard to do so, as he pressed onto his left eye, his back slouching more and more as he couldn't contain his pain anymore. His groans made him so he couldn't hear the girl from beside him, but the warm touch on his shaking body comforted him even for a bit.

[Name] felt herself suddenly being pushed back, and she calmed herself when she realized it was the Dean.

"Let me see," he said, crouching to Descamps' level.

"My eye...! I can't see..."

"Don't touch it okay? Can you stand up?" when he nodded, he helped him get up. He then ordered Pichon to get the nurse, but she was already there.

"He's got some glass in his eye," Mr. Belanger said softly at his wife, as she placed a hand on his back and led him outside, mentioning something about taking him to the hospital.

"Get back to your class!" he yelled at the students that were watching from outside the door. "Dupin, take your seat. Jean-Pierre, my office. You two, put the chairs back. You wipe that off. And you, clean that now!" he looked at the rest of the class, his piercing look sending shivers down [Name]'s spine. "Everyone else, take your seats!" he ordered and the tone of his voice made everyone do so without question. "Quietly!"

He sighed, "I'll leave you to it, Miss Couret," he said, giving a last look to the teacher that had just arrived before storming off.

The rest of the day seemed to pass way slower that before.

tagging: @kpoploverxx-12 @puchosdementa @tropicalheart13 @luvmacyyyy @aiuragf @idontlikemonday @helchronicles @bubblegum-bitchhhhhhhhh @visndcaitswhore @blueberryblood11 @remusmuse @pookayyyyy @blvckdress @lirominissss @issoais-blog @murxhavia @b3l1z8 @nikkoiiii @beau-min

©ssnowville ©snowville

#:ssnowville #:snowville #[🌸]#joseph descamps #mixte1963 #joseph descamps x reader #mixte #mixte 1963 #:girlystories

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withahappyrefrain · 2 months

Note

I wish you would write a fic where Jake is flirting with a plus size girl who doesn’t think he��s really attracted to her but still goes home with him (a bit self destructive she knows) but when she has to physically pull him from between her thighs because he’s about to pass out from the lack of breathing/cumming in his pants she realizes that “oh shit he does like me”

Oh I feel this so hard and this got away from me enjoy!

She thinks when Jake comes up to her that he wants to know about her friends, because why else would he come up and talk to her?

And when Jake asks her about herself, she still thinks that's his goal. So she's guarded, her answers are short and to the point. Just waiting for him to bring up one of the girls she came with, waiting for those four words that always come when someone like him talks to someone like her.

"Is your friend single?"

But strangely, those words never come. Because Jake (God bless him) just thinks the bar is too noisy and that's why you're being quiet.

"Do you want to go outside? Where it's not as loud?"

"Why?" It's an automatic response due to years of being ignored, rejected, passed over. It's genuine confusion because he could be talking to anyone here, so why would he want to talk to you?

Jake's brows knit together in confusion. He thought he was being very obvious in his flirting.

"So I can hear you better?" He says it like a question because he's confused too, just for a different reason. He had pulled out all the stops; buying you a drink, complimenting your smile, leaning in to close the distance between his body and her's.

But that hasn't stopped her from looking around the bar, keeping an eye out for snickering friends who are filming the interaction with their phones or passing a wad of cash to each other for winning a bet this Adonis was acting out.

Long fingers hooked themselves around her chin, gently tilting her head back to Jake's.

His smile is now soft, hesitant almost. Nothing like the eye-crinkling grin he had early when he found something she said hilarious.

"If you don't want to, it's fine. You can tell me."

A way out. A way to avoid rejection. A way to avoid being let down, avoid feeling unwanted.

Saying no is the sensible thing to do.

And yet, she finds herself out on the beach with Jake Seresin, who's looking at her as if she put the stars in the night sky.

She knows she can leave anytime, and so could he. She expects it, waits for a half assed excuse, an 'emergency' phone call to occur, an early meeting tomorrow morning. Anything for him to leave.

But Jake doesn't leave. In fact, he does the unthinkable and asks if she wants to come back to his place.

Another chance to leave that she didn't take. She knows whatever this is, it won't last longer than tonight. It's going to hurt like hell tomorrow morning, but it's fun to pretend that a guy actually wants to be with you, right?

But Jake keeps surprising her. First when he kisses her.

Second when he asks if she wants to go upstairs.

He hasn't had a drink since they left the bar, so alcohol isn't clouding his vision and the whole being in the Navy thing rules out drugs.

Maybe it's been a while since he's gotten laid and he's desperate. But even she knows that one is impossible given his looks and charms.

The biggest surprise is when he doesn't reach for the lamp after she lies down on his bed.

"Aren't you...going to turn it off?" She motions to the lamp, a rather incredulous look taking over her face.

Jake tilts his head to the side, resembling a confused puppy more than a Greek God.

"Why would I do that? Then I can't see you."

He wants to see me.

The words repeat over and over in her head. When he pulls off her shirt, she fights the urge to wrap her arms around her stomach, instead pulling him into a bruising kiss.

"You're so soft," his hands are traveling everywhere along her body, as if he's trying to commit the feeling to memory, "Fucking love it."

The seed of doubt becomes smaller and smaller as the night goes on, though it still looms in the back of her head. This is just for a night, it'll only last a night, but what's wrong with that?

There's a lot wrong with that, but that's something to talk in therapy. She tries to push it to the back of her mind, focusing on how good his tongue feels on her clit, how his fingers are able to find the spot that makes her whole body shake in pleasure.

Wait, how long has he been down there?

She was expecting him to come up when she first came but then he kept going.

The noises Jake was making kept getting louder too. Moans vibrating against her wet cunt. Then the bed began to squeak.

That was what caused her to lift her head up and look at the sight between her legs.

His eyes were completely closed as his mouth moved against her. What took the breath out of her lungs was the way his hips were moving frantically against the mattress, becoming more erratic as his moans increased.

Fuck, he was enjoying this.

He was enjoying her.

This was....new.

#ask #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you

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wtfwriter · 2 months

Text

I Promise - Clarisse La Rue x F!Reader

Reader Age: 16-17

Reader Godly Parent: Poseidon

Synopsis: Reader has just returned from the Labyrinth onto a battlefield. In an adaptation of the Battle of the Labyrinth, the Reader is faced with their own internal battle and wonders if keeping their relationship with Clarisse a secret is truly worth it, as well as facing the realities of war and its implications for their little brother.

Word Count: 3197 (I had thoughts and suddenly there were words on a google document. I had nothing to do with this.)

Preface:

Some of the lines and dialogue are written directly or slightly changed lines from Rick Riordian’s novel “Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Battle of the Labyrinth.” Not all of this story is originally from me. Majority of these events happen in the order that they occur in the book with some minor tweaks

Also don’t ask me how the prophecy works here okay. I just think Percy deserves a big sister idk

I'm not 100% sure what age Clarisse is in this book, but google says she's about 16-17, so keep that in mind

================================================

Even if pegasi are like neutral territory between Zeus and Poseidon, I never would fully relax while flying on the back of one. I held on tightly to my pegasus the entire time, muttering apologies for my grip to her the whole time. It’s alright, boss, she told me. If you could just let up on my skin, that would be great.

Once we landed in Camp Half-Blood, I dismounted, petting my pegasus’ snout and apologizing again until she turned with the rest of her friends back towards the stables. Once I turned towards everyone else, Percy seemed to have already shared our story with Chiron and Silenus was arguing with Grover about Pan.

I didn’t pay much attention to this. Not because I didn’t care, but because the lines of half-bloods around Zeus’ fist caught my eye first. I watched as every single half-blood seemed to fall into place, with the Hephaestus cabin maintaining their traps, Apollo and Hermes’ cabins ready with bows in the trees, and Aphrodite kids running around combing people’s hair and straightening their armor.

What I was truly looking for, however, was the Ares cabin, which I found exactly where I knew they would be: the front lines. I surveyed for the girl I had been aching to see since I had left camp, a time that seemed much longer than it probably was. My eyes eventually found her, barking orders at her siblings.

I watched Clarisse move across the lines, prepared for battle and preparing those that stood with her. My eyes moved wherever she moved, never letting up, as if they were people who had finally gotten their first sip of water after years in a desert. I was so focused on her movements, I barely noticed when she finally looked at me.

I wondered if anyone else was following her line of sight, or mine. I wondered if we held the same expressions on our faces. I wondered if anyone could figure out what we were saying.

I love you. I’m sorry we can’t talk right now. Not with what’s happening. Not with this many people around. I will find you after all of this is over.

I promise.

We nodded at each other, faces determined, before we both turned back to our respective duties. I watched as each of my friends dispersed to do what they had to: Annabeth with her siblings, Tyson with the Hephaestus kids, and Grover went over to Juniper.

“Both of you, stay with me,” Chiron spoke. “I want you to wait so we know what we are dealing with. You must go where we need reinforcements.”

Percy and I nodded at him. “I saw Kronos,” Percy suddenly said. “It was Luke.. but he wasn’t…”

“He had golden eyes, yes? To merge with a mortal body would be… arduous. I’m not sure how he could have merged with Luke’s form without it burning into ash,” Chiron wondered aloud.

I chimed in, “Kronos said he had prepared the body.”

“I fear what that can mean. Perhaps it will limit his power, being in a mortal form.”

“Chiron,” Percy’s voice was laced with worry. “What if Kronos is leading this attack?”

“He is not,” Chiron replied, incredibly sure. “I would sense if he was drawing near. I believe you have… inconvenienced him when you two pulled his throne room on top of him.” He paused. “You two and your friend Nico, son of Hades.”

Percy looked down at the ground as I spoke. “We know we should’ve told you. It’s just—”

“I understand why you did not tell me. You felt responsible. You sought to protect him. However, if we are to survive this, we must be able to trust each other. We must —”

Chiron was cut off by the sudden wavering of the Earth. I heard Clarisse yell, “Lock shields!”

Then the Titan Army was upon us.

At first, all I saw was the Laistrygonians. Beckendorf yelled orders to fire the catapults, one of which fired a boulder that took one of them down. Arrows flew through the air. Campers gathered to bring down the remaining giants. I watched as Clarisse yelled even more orders.

Just when it seemed we were winning, another wave came out of the Labyrinth, this time of dracaenae. They were completely covered with battle armor, carrying nets and spears. I watched as some fell into traps while others were battling with campers. I looked for Clarisse again, finding her in a locked fight with one of the reptilian women.

I thought about how unfair this all was. How we were all just kids. How we were forced into this war. How all of this hate and pain was caused by hunger for power.

I thought about how badly I wanted to take Percy away from all of this. How every day I wanted to get him away from his prophecy. How I wanted more than anything for him to be a little kid again.

I thought about how much I wanted to do with Clarisse. How beautiful she was. How she never failed to be the person I could always return to. How she promised me the world and I promised her the universe and it was still less than the both of us deserved.

I thought about how different my life could be if we were brave enough to change it. Maybe being a half-blood wasn’t something we wanted or something we could change. But, we didn’t need to be hiding anymore. It all seemed so stupid now, in the face of life and death,

Suddenly, a hellhound burst out of the opening and Chiron was yelling. “GO!”

Percy and I ran towards the hellhound. All I could see was horrifically clear images in the midst of a blur. Past friends and siblings fighting on opposing sides. Monsters disintegrating whilst others yelled triumphantly. I watched as Nico summoned a dozen undead warriors in various army attire before crumbling to the floor.

“Nico!” I yelled.

“Go! I’ll get the hellhound. You make sure he’s okay!” Percy yelled, running off as I slowed down. I pivoted to Nico, getting on my knees beside him.

“You okay?” I yelled over the commotion of battle.

“Yeah…” he panted. “Go, there’s more of them. You need to help.”

I looked up and got my first full look at everything that was happening. At the gruesome sights of battle. I watched as campers defended their home, the one place they were meant to be safe. I nodded to Nico before getting up.

I almost started to run back where Percy had gone when I heard Grover. He and Juniper were desperately trying to stop a fire that was getting dangerously close to Juniper’s tree. I rushed over, seeing Percy do the same.

I wasn’t sure what to do and by the look on his face, Percy didn’t either. The closest water source was nearly half a mile away, and we didn’t have petrified seashells here. All we could do was concentrate, praying to Poseidon, until I felt a pull in my gut. Suddenly, a wall of water appeared through the trees, dousing the fire. I sighed in relief, glad at least one crisis was averted.

Suddenly, a screech filled the air, followed by the sound of loud flapping wings. Kampê shot into the sky from the labyrinth entrance. Her right hand carried Ariadne’s string until her belt of animal heads rotated to the lion. She stuck the string into the lion’s maw. Safe keeping, I suppose.

Kampê drew her twin swords, which seemed to be dripping with poison. Chiron sent an arrow through the sky towards her, which she sensed as she moved at the last moment. Campers started to run away in fear.

“No! Stay and fight!” Tyson yelled, before being promptly slammed to the ground by a hellhound. They went rolling away.

Kampê landed on the Athena tent and Percy and I ran after her. Annabeth appeared on Percy’s side.

“This might be it,” she said.

“Could be,” Percy replied.

“Okay… morbid,” I muttered under my breath, but neither of them seemed to hear me, or acted like they didn’t.

“Nice fighting with you, seaweed brain.”

“Ditto.”

We all rushed towards Kampê, who lashed at us with her swords. My eyes burned from the poison lacing the blades. My lungs couldn’t seem to fully fill with air.

“We need help!” I yelled.

But there was no one to help. Either each half-blood was locked in their own fight or was too afraid to move towards us.

“Now!” Annabeth yelled, and all three of us rushed in at different angles. But it wasn’t enough. Kampê’s belt of animals snapped at me and I went back trying to not get bitten.

Suddenly, I was on my back, ears ringing and head spinning. I couldn’t breathe due to a heavy weight. I opened my eyes to see Kampê’s leg on my chest, Percy pinned under the other, and Annabeth thrown off to the side, dazed and not getting up. Kampê raised her sword and I realized this was it. I prayed that Percy would get a fair judgement from the council in the Underworld, that they hadn’t all been bought out by Kronos.

Suddenly, a whirl of black pounced onto Kampê, throwing her off of us and I gasped for air.

“Good girl!” Daedalus called after her. I turned my head and watched as he slashed down monsters, followed closely behind by a friendly face… and many hands.

“Briares!” Tyson called excitedly.

“Hail, little brother!” Briares bellowed back. “Stand firm!”

Briares took up a boulder in nearly each hand, throwing them at Kampê, piling them around her. She was encased within her own makeshift monument taller than Zeus’ fist. By the time he was done, the only evidence that there was an ancient monster inside was from the twin swords still poking out between the stones.

The rocks shifted slightly, slotting into place.

Before I could celebrate that victory, I heard commotion over to the side. I turned just in time to watch Chiron get knocked down from his hind legs, laying on his side. I tried my best to get up, ignoring the ache in my chest from Kampê’s attack.

As suddenly as I had gotten up to start running towards Chiron, I was back on my knees, covering my ears. The shrill sound seemed to come out of nowhere until I looked over at Grover. His mouth open wide, he seemed to have infinite lung capacity as the sound continued.

The enemies seemed to think better than to stick around after that. I watched dracaenae put down their weapons and sprint towards the labyrinth entrance. I watch laestrygonians rush towards the entrance right after them. More and more of the armies retreated until eventually they all seemed to have gone back underground.

Once the screeching had stopped, the sudden stillness in the air was agonizing. All I could hear was my own breathing as I heaved, still trying to recover from the previous heaviness crushing my lungs. I eventually pushed myself up and grabbed one of Annabeth’s arms with Percy.

I ran with the other two over to Chiron and kneeled in front of him.

“Are you alright? What can I do?”

“Nothing. This is embarrassing,” Chiron chuckled. “Thankfully, we don’t shoot centaurs with broken legs. I’ll be alright eventually.”

“Let me get someone from the medic tent,” Annabeth rushed, already standing up before Chiron stopped her.

“No need, Annabeth. There are far more severe injuries.”

“Guys!” I whipped my head to look for the source of the voice. “Come quick! It’s Nico.”

I shot up, running over to the black heap on the floor. I’d forgotten about him after the intense battle. Dammit.

I got down next to him, looking at his sweaty face. I grabbed his ice cold hands for a pulse.

“He needs nectar! Quickly!” Percy yelled. One of the Ares campers quickly came over with the bottle as I propped Nico up as best as I could onto my knee. Percy dribbled some of the liquid into his mouth. I let out a sigh of relief as he stirred.

“Gods, Nico. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

The boy coughed slightly before nodding. “Never tried to summon so many at once before. I’ll be okay.” He turned his head to look beside me. “Daedalus.”

I looked over at the man as Mrs. O’Leary loomed behind him, licking his wounds that were leaking oil. Freaky.

Percy and Daedalus spoke as I tried to convince Nico to rest for a moment. Of course, he refused. I shook my head at him. “One day, you'll have to stop being so stubborn,” I told him.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly. “Bianca would say the same thing. I’ll stop when it doesn’t work for me anymore.”

“But Daedalus,” Percy said. “Even without the string, Kronos’ army still has a way into camp.”

“You’re right,” Daedalus sighed. “As long as the Labyrinth is here, your enemies can use it. And so, the labyrinth can no longer continue.”

Annabeth stepped forward. “But, you said the Labyrinth was connected to you. If the labyrinth’s gone –”

“Yes, Annabeth. I too will be gone. And so, I have a present for you.”

Daedalus removed his satchel from his back and pulled out his laptop, engraved with a greek delta, and handed it to Annabeth. “That holds several designs of mine. Some unfinished, some I think you’ll find interesting, others I felt could never be in the mortal world. I'm positive you will find some things useful there.”

Annabeth was speechless. “This… This is priceless. And you’re just giving this to me?”

“It is less than you deserve. Less than I should do to atone for my mistakes.”

As Daedalus spoke of his time coming to an end and accepting whatever punishment he will be given from his judgment in the Underworld, I came to realize just how small we all are. Just how little we are meant to live. How many regrets we still have over such little time.

I looked around at all of the half-bloods scattered around. I saw some over at the medical tent, others scattered just hugging their friends and siblings, some sitting by the ones we lost who had been covered by thin fabrics.

I questioned my own mortality, and Percy’s. We weren’t meant to live forever. We were never going to. But with the little amount of time we both had, how many regrets would we hold with us?

I thought of Clarisse. I thought of how I hadn’t gone up to her before the battle. How I’d always regret that. I thought of how we both decided to keep our relationship a secret. How that was something I didn’t want to do anymore if it meant having to live with regrets. I thought about how I hadn’t seen her since I had joined the battle.

I looked back at the scene before me as Nico pulled out his sword and stepped before Daedalus. After being zoned out for a second, it freaked me out, until I realized Nico wasn’t raising it.

“Your time has long since come. Be released and rest.”

The relief in Daedalus’ eyes was freeing for us all. Knowing that he was truly ready brought us all some consolation. We watched as his body turned to dust.

I took Percy’s hand in mine and gave him a small smile. “I know there’s a lot to do, but there's something I have to do first.”

Percy nodded. “I know,” he said, and for some odd reason, I knew that he fully did, even though he didn’t say it. I looked down as he continued to speak. “You really didn’t have to hide it from me, you know? I was a bit upset about it at first but I think I was more… sad that you felt you couldn’t tell me.”

I looked back into his eyes and breathed out through my nose, smiling softly. “I just didn’t want you to hate me for this. More than just the ‘Clarisse’ part.”

“Oh, well, that part I might hold a bit of a grudge about,” he smiled at me in a way that told me he was joking. “But otherwise, all I care about is that you’re happy.”

We smiled at each other before Percy suddenly wrapped his arms around my waist. It felt like he was just a little kid again, like he was just my little brother, nothing more. It felt like we suddenly weren’t in the middle of a battlefield and there was an ancient monster buried in rubble just a few feet over. It felt like I was back home. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“I will kill her if she makes you cry.”

We laughed harder than we should have.

He pulls away first, telling me to “get my girl.” I don’t even think twice before turning and starting to run through the battlefield.

I frantically looked around for Clarisse, hoping and praying to every single god that she was okay. I was so frantic that I nearly missed her over by the Ares station, seeming to be ignoring something her brother was saying in favor of looking out at all of the other half-bloods.

I didn’t even think before my feet were moving. Clarisse started to walk around, looking for something. It wasn’t until we made eye contact that I realized it was me she was looking for, when her eyes softened in the way they always seemed to whenever she looked at me, like she was letting go of the anger embedded within her skin and cooling off just a bit.

It didn’t matter to me that we were surrounded by people, and Clarisse made no complaints when my left hand cupped her cheek and my lips met hers. Her arms held my waist as my right arm circled around to hold the back of her neck. I could feel the sweat that was dripping down from the battle and the adrenaline that was just beginning to crash.

I didn’t realize she was crying until I tasted the saltiness. I withdrew slightly before pecking her lips once more. The thumb of my left hand moved to her cheek and under her eye to wipe the tears.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Clarisse’s left hand left my waist to wipe the tears on the right side of my face. We both laughed slightly, bringing our foreheads together and closing our eyes. I angled my head to kiss her one more time before hugging her properly. She buried her face into my neck and I laughed at how it tickled.

“Gods, we both smell horrible.”

“I know.”

We didn’t speak for a while, soaking up each other, but it still didn't feel like enough.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

It didn’t matter that everyone at camp could see us and Clarisse didn’t seem to mind it either. There were more important things than reputation right now.

#clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson x reader #clarisse x reader #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue

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writinground2 · 7 months

Text

Bad Guy - Leah Williamson

Based on a request for more Angsty Leah

This ended up a lot different and longer than I expected it to. There is the potential for a part two if there is interest.

“Never have I ever, cheated on someone,” Ella spoke.

The lionesses playing the drinking game with water at their team bonding night, everyone spread out in the small hotel room. The night had moved from card games and movies to the game of Never Have I Ever to get to know each other a little more.

A few took bashful sips, admitting their previous infidelity, all looking guilty about their actions. Leah scoffed when she noticed Y/N does not take a sip.

“Seems fitting this is a question you choose to lie about,” the blonde rolls her eyes.

“I’m not lying,” Y/N mutters, keeping her head down, hoping someone else will continue the game and the attention would be taken off her.

Leah opens her mouth to bite back, “whatever,” she sneers instead when Millie sharply elbows her in the side.

The room sits in awkward silence for a moment, no one knowing what to say. Most wanted to ask more questions about the interaction, having never seen the either woman be anything but professional towards each other since their friendship had fallen apart only a few months ago.

“Umm, never have I ever, broken a bone,” Jordan spoke up to end the tense silence. She knew it would draw the attention off Y/N, so many of the players wanting to compete with who had the coolest or worst injury story.

Y/N played a few more rounds before quietly slipping out of the room. No one noticing until they hear the click of the door.

“Time for bed!” Millie was quick to usher everyone out of her before anyone could question Leah about her tense interaction with Y/N.

No one knew the cause of the fallout between the two friends. They had been friends since staring on the youth teams years ago, thick as thieves early on. Then, suddenly, Y/N was being sent on loan to Arsenal from Aston Villa and Leah wanted nothing to do with her best friend. Jordan and Rachel avoided Y/N their first international break after the loan, but seemed fine the next camp, both giving the older girl sympathetic looks. Leah would remain professional with her former best friend, but it was apparent something significant occurred within Y/N’s loan.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled as she almost walked into Leah as she walked out of the bathroom as Leah entered their shared room. Because of course they would be roomed together. Staff didn’t realize the tension in the friendship, leaving them paired as they normally were.

“I bet you are,” her tone saturated with in sarcasm, “nothing but lies coming out of your mouth.”

“I never cheated Leah,” Y/N whispered, standing at the end of her bed, face crumpling while she tried to convey her honesty to the blonde.

“Cut the shit, Y/N. I was there that night; we all saw you with that girl at the bar. We saw you fighting with Sydney before you left,” Leah squared her shoulders to confront Y/N, she wasn’t going to let Y/N deny her infidelity anymore.

“I know,” Y/N couldn’t meet the blondes eye, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, “but, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Leah mocked her.

“I know it’s cliché, but It really wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Yeah? So what was it supposed to look like? Because, what it looked like, was you fighting with your girlfriend, then getting into a car of girls, and me being left with your crying girlfriend.”

“I didn’t get in the car,” Y/N whispered, but Leah wasn’t listening.

“That you kicked her out of your house only to show up at Arsenal. Single at that too!”

She glared Y/N down, eyes set, and jaw clenched, waiting for Y/N to answer. Sydney had been Y/N’s girlfriend of two years, the couple living together for one. She had grown close with the blonde, the pair loving to team up to make fun of Y/N. Sydney was the liaison for the marketing company for Aston Villa.

“I didn’t cheat, I didn’t get in the car that night,” Y/N repeated.

She knew how that night appeared to anyone watching on. That it easily appeared like Y/N and her girlfriend gotten into a fight, leaving her at the bar to get into a car full of girls. That she left her girlfriend in another city and moved to another team to avoid dealing with the consequences of her actions.

Leah continued to stare Y/N down, “if you want me to believe that, then what was it supposed to look like?”

Y/N let out a long sigh, scraping both hands down her face. She wanted to defend herself, to tell Leah the truth, but telling the truth also meant baring Sydney’s actions and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that.

“I found out after the game that Villa wasn’t going to extend my contract. But they wanted to do whatever they could to squeeze as much money out of me before I left. They told a few teams interested that I was getting re-signed, even though I wasn’t, so that teams would bid for the loan rights. They hoped teams would sign the loan, then get a big transfer fee next season.”

Leah softened slightly, she couldn’t imagine being regarded only as a price tag, “this doesn’t have anything to with you supposedly not cheating.”

“I told Sydney before we went out. She didn’t really understand, hell I didn’t understand it, but she was mad because she thought it meant I was asking to be loaned out. When we went to the bar to get another round, she told me she was going to move out and went back to the table before I could say anything.”

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed with a defeated sigh, she might as well tell the whole story. She didn’t want to potentially ruin Leah’s friendship with Sydney, but she also couldn’t risk this to continue to put strain on their professional relationship.

“I thought that meant she didn’t want me around, so I decided to go home, let you guys enjoy the night. On the way out, there was a group of girls trying to get their friend in the backseat of the car to leave, but she was too drunk to stand, so I helped them. She got in the car, they left, and I went home.”

“But your car was still at the pub.”

“I walked; Sydney had the keys.”

Leah crossed her arms while she analyzed what Y/N told her. It was possible Y/N helped the group of girls, she always helped people around her. Y/N had hurt her wrist during the game and probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the gear shift to drive.

Taking the older girl in, Leah could see how tired she genuinely looked. How it looked like a struggle to just keep herself sitting upright and bags under her eyes when she would briefly make eye contact.

“She didn’t come home until the next afternoon.”

“She stayed with Jordan,” Leah snapped, she wasn’t going to let Y/N imply Sydney cheated to make herself sound better.

“I know,” Y/N nodded, “Jordan called me that night to yell at me when Sydney showed up there upset.”

Leah smiled a bit, she knew how protective Jordan could be and could imagine the earful she would have given Y/N, “good, you deserved it.”

“Damnit Leah, I didn’t cheat, and I didn’t kick her out!”

Y/N stood abruptly from the bed, frowning. Leah dropped her arms, mouth opening in shock at the sudden shift in Y/N.

“She broke up with me! She cheated! She told she found someone better, more attractive, that she never really found me attractive. I lived in a hotel for two weeks before Villa sent me to Arsenal like I was nothing!”

Y/N begun pacing the room.

“I had to miss training so I could pack my bags while she was at work. She got the house and everything in it and all I have is a couple bags and a few boxes.”

Leah didn’t know any of that. Sydney had told her Y/N kicked her out of the house and she believed it. And she certainly never said anything about seeing someone else. It was starting to be clear that Leah truly didn’t know the full story, or at least, not the true story.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Y/N deflated at the question, sinking back down on the edge of the bed, “she was your friend too, I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Any anger the defender felt was gone now. Y/N had spent months protecting Sydney even though she didn’t deserve it. She had been taking the brunt of Leah’s anger without saying anything for months.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I – “

“It’s alright. It was easier to be the bad guy in her story than fight it.”

Leah made her way across the room, sitting next to Y/N, her whole body pressing into Y/N’s side.

“It’s not alright, you took so much of my anger when you didn’t deserve any of it. You took Jordan and Rachels too.”

Leah sounded astonished when she spoke, realizing how terrible Y/N had been treated. That she tolerated everyone’s accusations and criticisms while dealing with the truth of the breakup and club loan alone. Y/N should have been angry at everyone and should have told them all the truth about her breakup.

“They figured it out when they took her for drinks,” Y/N shrugged and Leah could tell she was trying to detach herself while telling the story, “She showed up with her new girlfriend. I wasn’t even at Arsenal yet.”

Leah shook her head. She was so angry at herself now. How could she believe someone she knew two years over her best friend she had known for fifteen? She had been so blinded by her anger, she let herself be manipulated into believing her best friend would have done anything like that.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Y/N pushed herself up.

Leah launched herself from the bed and into Y/N’s side, pinning her arms in place in a tight bear hug, “I am so, so sorry Y/N.”

“it’s alright, really.”

“It’s not!” Leah pulled away but kept her grip on Y/N’s and forced her to face her, “you went through all of that alone and you let yourself be the bad guy when you shouldn’t have.”

Y/N tried to pull away only for Leah to tighten her grip, one hand clasping the back of her neck so they are forced to meet eyes, “I cannot apologize enough for how I have been to you, but I want to make it up to you.”

“You don’t need to make it up to me. I just want us to go back to being friends.”

The blonde eagerly nodded at that, letting Y/N pull away this time to settle into bed.

Leah rushed to complete her bedtime routine before sliding into her own bed. She settles on her side to look over at Y/N facing away from her, chest rising and falling steadily, fast asleep.

Incessant buzzing wakes Leah far too early the next morning. Y/N mutters soft swears while frantically trying to silence the device and hide the bright screen to avoid waking her roommate.

The buzzing stops as Y/N throws a hoodie on and is leaving the room as the buzzing starts again. Leah can hear Y/N speaking in the hallway now, she tries to stay awake to make sure everything is alright but sleep quickly wins. Y/N isn’t in the room when she wakes again a few hours later. She gets ready for team breakfast and sits on her bed, waiting for Y/N to return, before rushing out the room when she realizes she’ll be late otherwise.

Y/N is already seated at a table away from everyone when she gets downstairs. She has her knees tucked up on the edge of her chair with her chin resting on them and a coffee cup clasped in both hands against her chest. Even across the room, Leah can see how exhausted she looks.

After making a plate, she begins to make her way towards Y/N but is stopped by a hand tugging her to a stop. Jordan shaking her head ‘no’, telling her to leave Y/N alone for the time being. Leah looks back over, debating if she should listen or not. Sighing, she settles next to the midfielder. They’re friendship just starting to be repaired.

“She told you the truth about Sydney,” it isn’t a question.

Leah nods slowly, unsure why it matters.

“Did you say anything to Sydney when you found out?”

Nodding again slowly, “I texted her when Y/N went to sleep and said I was upset she hadn’t told me the truth.”

Jordan clenched her jaw and nodded too, “Sydney is pissed.”

Leah quickly pulled her phone out to see If she had missed a message, furrowing her brow when she hadn’t.

“Not at you. She’ll take it out on Y/N.”

Her eyes quickly shot over to Y/N. Y/N’s phone was face down on the table, but she was staring intensely at it.

“That was the phone call,” she realized.

The midfielder nodded, already seeming to know what the morning had been like for Y/N.

“Even though they broke up months ago, she still texts Y/N almost every day. She’s,” Jordan pauses while she considers her words, “cruel with everything she has to say.”

“What do you mean?”

Jordan glances around the table, when she sees no one is paying attention to them she continues, “at first, she was mad Y/N wouldn’t stay her friend. Then it was that she turned Rachel and me against her. But it’s mostly attacking anything about her; her looks, her career, mocks her for being single or being upset with what happened. She’s truly ruthless.”

Leah is disgusted when she hears what someone she considered a friend was doing to Y/N. Guilt settling deep in her gut at how wrong she had been about the whole situation. Jordan can see the thoughts she once had pass across Leah’s face while she watches Y/N toss her phone back down.

“Rach and I thought the same too. She was convincing when she told us what Y/N supposedly did, I think she believes it herself that she didn’t do anything wrong. She was confused when we didn’t understand how she had the house and a new girlfriend while Y/N was stuck in a hotel in a new city.”

“How long did she have to stay in a hotel once she got to London?”

“She’s still in a hotel,” Jordan shakes her head. She knew Y/N had been so battered down, that she didn’t think Arsenal would keep her around long enough to make a flat wroth it.

Fortunately, there isn’t much time during the day for players to be on their phones. But during the breaks they do have, Y/N slinks away from the group to skim her few new messages. Each time she returns to the group, Leah can see her force a smile on her face, convincing everyone around she is fine. She does manage to put on a good show of being alright, but Leah can see right through the fraudulent smile and forced laughs.

Y/N’s phone vibrates on the night stand that night while she goes through her nightly routine in the bathroom. Leah ignores the first message, only for several more to follow, glancing at the screen she sees Sydney’s name.

“Sorry, I meant to silence it,” Y/N apologizes, and she takes it off the nightstand.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” the defender dismisses her, “Jordan said she’s pretty mean. I didn’t know she still messaged you, if I had, I wouldn’t have texted her last night.”

Y/N glances at the blonde, nodding slowly, before shrugging her shoulders while she skimmed the new messages and typing out a short reply before tossing the phone onto the bed next to her.

“Jordan only read them because she thought I was seeing someone,” Y/N gave what almost looked like a genuine smile, “my phone kept going off while we were out once. She stole it, thinking she would get some juicy messages. Once she saw what the messages were, she went through most of them.”

“I know I have no place to ask this, but can I see them?”

Leah could see her tense and bite her lip, clearly considering the question.

“Why didn’t you ask me about what happened that night? Or trust that I would never do something like that?”

The blonde nodded, they were valid questions, questions she had been considering since the night before.

“She was damn convincing. You weren’t you that whole night, then she came back to the table crying and you were outside with some girl draped all over you. It was all so believable, she made it believable.”

Y/N risked a small glance towards the other bed. Leah had propped herself up on an elbow, staring intently at Y/N. She couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, a mixture of pity and guilt maybe.

“I never thought you could do something like that. And she was so convincing. I was just blinded by my anger that I let myself be fooled. I am so sorry that I let myself be tricked and ruined our friendship when I should have just asked you.”

The pity was gone, guilt settled across her face.

Y/N wordlessly handed her phone across the space between the beds. Leah pushed herself to take the phone, settling on her back to read the messages.

Leah read the most recent messages first, slowly working her way backwards. Reading the vile things Sydney had been sending Y/N throughout the day, Y/N offering short messages to amend her ex’s anger.

Y/N fixed her gaze to the ceiling, unwilling to see the blondes reaction as she read the messages, unwilling to see her agree with Sydney.

The phone dropped after a minute of her reading the messages, Leah unable to finish see anymore, disgusted with the things sent. The messages all varied in length, but they all attacked Y/N in every capacity that she could. She criticized anything she could to get a reaction from Y/N.

Leah pushed herself to hang her legs off the side of the bed. She didn’t know what to do with herself, didn’t know what emotion was the strongest right now. Part of her wanted to storm out of the hotel and confront Sydney. Part of her wanted to wrap Y/N in the tightest hug possible and mend all the broken pieces. All she could bring herself to do was sit with her head in her hands.

“I, Y/N, fuck,” she could only stutter out, “I don’t even know what to say. Those are, she’s, those are all so fucked.”

Y/N shrugged, “is what it is.”

“it’s not! What she’s saying is so wrong and fucked up!”

Anger overtaking as she stood up, harshly running her hand through her hair, “you need to block her!”

“I can’t,” Y/N whispered.

Leah just looked at her, mouth opening and closing.

“I blocked her on socials and she lost it. When I tried to block her number, she took it out on Rach and Jords, messaging them and all that. She left them alone when I unblocked her.”

She shook her head, Y/N continued to protect everyone but herself.

“They can handle themselves; you don’t need to protect them.”

Y/N stubbornly shook her head, refusing to accept that, “they don’t need to be part of this.”

Leah couldn’t believe Y/N was willing to continue to handle this all on her own. She sat herself on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently placing a hand on her thigh, encouraging her make eye contact with her.

“I don’t have it in me to fight anymore, I never really did,” Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, shoulder rounded in, “I didn’t fight the breakup, I gave her the house, I didn’t fight anything she told people. I just want to be done with it.”

Her voice trembled, tipping her head back, hoping to keep the tears from falling.

“Looking back, I think she broke me down years ago.”

Leah’s heart ached as Y/N spoke, “I am so sorry Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I should have been there for you, I will be here for you.”

Leah eventually made her way back to her own bed, but sleep wouldn’t come, lying on her side watching Y/N tucked into herself. She couldn’t imagine how Y/N had handled the last months completely alone, while also having people viewing her as the bad guy in the story. Guilt rocked her, she was one of those people.

Y/N’s phone remained quiet the next day and Leah could see the relief it left Y/N with.

“You know, you and I are friends again,” Jordan spoke up when they were alone at their dinner table that night.

Leah furrowed her brow and slowly nodded, agreeing with the statement.

“It would be alright if anything started with the two of you,” Jordan gave her a small smile, “Gee told me how disappointed you were when Y/N started seeing Sydney a couple years ago.”

Leah blushed, anxiously running her thumb along her bottom lip, risking a glance to Y/N the table over. Jordan wasn’t wrong. She had been disappointed at the start of Y/N’s relationship. Her feeling had developed when Y/N had been such a good, supportive friend for both her and Jordan when they broke up, even before they broke up, supporting them when it became rocky.

It hadn’t been something she had expected to happen. She didn’t even know what it was that she was feeling, only realizing her attraction when Y/N excitedly told them about her new relationship at an international camp. The distress at the announcement, she immediately understood she was attracted.

“You would be really good for her. She needs someone to be good to her, and I think that’s you.”

“I didn’t even realize what I felt until I heard she was dating someone,” Leah felt a little defensive as she spoke.

Jordan was quick to place a reassuring hand on Leah’s arm, “it’s alright. I know it’s all new for you. And I’m not saying you should do anything about it. Just pointing out that you would be good for.”

Leah bashfully looked away, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered it at one point, she’d also be lying if she denied it being more than once.

“Last time I could get her to say anything about dating again, she said she swore it off because she doesn’t think she’s worth it anymore.”

The weight in her gut gets heavier the more she’s told about Y/N the last few months

“But I think she’s just waiting for someone to prove her wrong about it all.”

Leah is amazed at how easily Y/N can move past the months she had been treated so horribly. They easily return to being friends. The guilt is still weighing on her, but it eases slightly when she sees Y/N genuinely smile at her. Her attraction surging back to the front of her mind.

“Fuck!”

Leah rushes out of the bathroom when she hears Y/N’s phone hitting the wall. Y/N’s pacing aggressively, harshly running her fingers through her hair.

“What’s happened?” she picks up the phone, inspecting it to ensure it isn’t broken, placing it on the dresser.

“Arsenal cancelled my hotel room. I’m homeless when I get back to London.”

Leah jolts when Y/N kicks the bed.

“Good thing I don’t have any stuff to worry about,” she lets out a humourless laugh, kicking the bed a few more times.

After one last kick, Y/N crumples to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking her head between them as sobs wracked her body. Leah rushes to her side, pulling her tight to her chest. Y/N doesn’t fight the action but keeps herself curled into herself.

“You weren’t supposed to find out that way.”

Y/N scrambles away.

“Shit, that sounds bad,” the blonde stays on the floor, “Arsenal cancelled your room because you’re going to move in with me. I was going to tell you once we got in bed, I just called them after dinner, I didn’t think they would tell you so fast.”

Y/N whirls around and stares down at the defender. Leah slowly pushes herself off the floor.

“You need a home Y/N, I want to give that to you,”

When Y/N doesn’t say anything, Leah frantically thinks of anything to say to fix it. Y/N crashes her body into Leah and the blonde can feel the tears soaking her shirt. She’s sure she’ll have bruises on her side where Y/N is gripping into her. Managing to pull a handout to rub up and down Y/N’s back as her sobs continue.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Y/N pulls away, using the sleeve of her hoodie to try and wipe the snot smeared on the blonde’s neck.

Leah shakes her head, batting the hand away to pull her back into her, “you don’t need to be sorry or say anything. Just come live with me. I have a spare room; I want you to come stay in It.” Once Y/N nods, Leah guides her to lay in her bed, tucking her in.

The first week living together is awkward. If it wasn’t for the meals left for Leah and the fact that they carpool to training, she would think Y/N wasn’t staying there. Y/N is the perfect house guest, Leah’s house cleaner than when she moved in. But other than seeing her in passing, Leah hardly saw her new roommate.

Leah grabs Y/N’s arm immediately when they walk through the door, preventing her from running away.

“This your home now, too. You don’t need to hide in your room. Unpack, eat meals with me, shower here,” she emphasized, knowing Y/N hadn’t even showered at the flat yet, only showering at the training facility.

Y/N shrunk under Leah’s stare. She had been doing her best to remain as out of site at possible, whatever she could to avoid upsetting the blonde, “I wanted to stay out of your way.”

“And I want you in my way.”

Y/N shook her head, not understanding what she meant.

“I want you to live your life and feel comfortable.”

The next few weeks, Y/N does make an effort to leave her room more, making Leah smile. Y/N waits to eat her meals with Leah now, leaves a pair of shoes by the door, shower products along the tub edge.

“I blocked her,” she whispers between bites at breakfast, “Rach and Jordan did too.”

Leah lets her fork clatter to table as Y/N spoke.

“I am so, so proud of you Y/N,” she grips Y/N’s wrist across the table, her smile wide as her eyes crinkle.

Y/N just shrugs and continues to eat, but Leah keeps her hand where it is with her thumb rubbing across her wrist, picking up her fork to eat with her other hand.

This was a sign Y/N was healing, moving past the torment her ex had been putting her through for months. Y/N was moving in the right direction. Maybe Jordan was right, maybe she was the person Y/N needed to fix all her broken pieces.

“Have you thought of dating again?” Leah risked. She knew pursuing Y/N would require a lot of patience and understanding.

“A little bit, but not in the way you think,” Y/N harshly bit her lip, Leah wishing she could tug it away to safety, “I’m too broken to date, I think. No one wants to be with someone this ruined.”

Leah couldn’t imagine the pain Y/N must constantly be in to think so poorly of herself, to think that she was too damaged and undeserving of someone to be loved.

“You are not a reflection of people who couldn’t love you properly,” Leah’s grip tightens until Y/N makes eye contact with her, “I am sorry Sydney loved you so poorly and made you think you took up space you didn’t deserve and abandoned you and hurt you so badly you think love is an awful thing.”

Worried Y/N will start bleeding if she bites any harder on her lip, Leah does use her thumb to tug it out. She can feel it tremble under the pad of her thumb as she slowly drags it across the flesh.

Y/N runs her tongue over her lip when Leah’s thumb is gone, Leah’s steely eyes tracking the motion. She wanted to run away, worried she might do something and risk moving too fast. Leaving now though would ruin all the work she had done to regain Y/N’s trust.

Leah continues to show Y/N what love is. Opening her car door when they leave for training. Always letting her choose the show they watch. She attempts breakfast, bacon and eggs, but they ultimately end with cereal when she burns both. She increases physical contact; sitting close enough they touch on the couch, hand grazing her back as she walks past, tucking hair behind her ears.

Y/N adores all of it. But it makes her panic. She won’t go through all of this again. Won’t have someone show her love and care, only to rip it all away from her.

So, she runs away. Retreats back into her room. Goes back to leaving meals for the blonde to eat, leaving before the blonde wakes up, meeting her at training.

Leah stands outside Y/N’s room after training, so she knows Y/N’s in there. But this room has been her one safe space since moving in, the blonde doesn’t want to take that away from Y/N, doesn’t want her to feel trapped.

Steeling herself, she knocks on the door, three quick raps.

Y/N doesn’t look surprised when she opens the door. Just opens the door and shuffles back. Leah can see her bags packed on the floor next to the bed and the bed neatly made.

Choosing to ignore the bags for now, Leah settles on the edge of the bed, “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I really like you and I was hoping I could ease you into idea of being in a relationship again. Unpack your things, I’ll back off.”

“I liked it,” Y/N whispers, sitting next to Leah, “but, I’m not the guy that gets the girl, no happy ending.”

“You already got the girl though,” Leah’s voice is soft as she speaks, “we can have the happy ending.”

“We can have the happy ending?’

“Not for a long time though, because we have to have a happy everything else first.”

Y/N tugs ones of Leah’s hands in her lap and rests head on her shoulder. Leah drops a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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joelalorian · 1 month

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Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Three | Main Masterlist

Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.

Turmoil.

That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.

His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.

She wasn’t you.

That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.

Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.

This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.

Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.

To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.

Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.

Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.

That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.

Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.

A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.

“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”

“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.”

“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”

“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.

“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”

Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.

“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”

“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”

Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”

Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. “Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.

Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”

Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.

“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”

Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”

Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”

The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”

The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”

Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”

Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.

The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?

With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.

Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.

“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”

“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”

The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?

Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.

Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?

Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”

Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”

“’Course not, but this is different.”

“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.

Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.

“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.

Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”

Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.

“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”

“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.

Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.

The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.

You: Omg do I ever. Mall?

Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.

You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me

Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉

You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?

Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!

An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.

Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.

Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.

“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”

You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”

Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”

Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”

Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.

Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?

Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.

“What do you think?”

The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.

The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.

After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”

Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—

“How about this one?”

“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.

Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”

Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.

You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”

The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.

“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.

“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”

“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.

“Hell no.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”

He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.

“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.

Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.

Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.

tbc

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

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