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#touches the snow. something bad happened here
sonicchaoscontrol · 2 years
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[Ch. 1, Page 9]
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Thanks for the new duds but could they at -least- have been weather-appropriate
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surftrips · 10 months
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CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE
pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader
word count: 600+
summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.
a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)
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"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."
Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.
He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.
"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.
"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."
You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.
It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.
And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.
"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.
But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.
"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.
He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"
You frowned, "My love isn't?"
"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."
"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."
Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"
"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."
He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"
"What is it?"
"Promise me you'll never leave my side."
"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."
That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.
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spookykoolkat · 11 months
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kinktober | grateful - j.m.
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kinktober day nine - cockwarming
pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader
wc: 2.17k
summary: being joel's girlfriend meant you saw sides of him no one else ever saw. one of them was how he just loved to be in your presence, to feel you, to touch you — to be buried inside of you.
warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS ARE NOT WELCOMED!!! NO AGE = BLOCKED. mentions of violence and sexual violence *if you blink you will miss it it's not a main theme!*, mentions if blood, dirty talk, p in v, cockwarming, slight somno.
an: gosh im so behind on this but i WILL catch up. i have a concert tmrw im very excited! also this one is very short, but i still love it 🥹
reblogs, likes & comments are so very appreciated i love u guys 🥹
⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧ °。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧
YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT it meant to be in a relationship – with joel. somehow, years after you got lost with the group you’d traveled with for months, you ended up in the midst of a bunch of men on horses pointing their guns at you. 
one of them being joel, and his brother. you were cut up, bloodied and bruised, in the freezing winter with hardly anything on. you remembered looking around you at the men that circled you, your hands raised but just barely because you had a stab wound on your left shoulder, crying. 
“please, i, i can leave just, please don’t kill me, i’ll go,” you cried frantically. 
every thought was going through your mind right now. you were half naked, shivering and near frostbite basically, the only thing warming you up would be the blood pouring from your wounds. there were only two things that could happen. 
they’ll trap you, have their way with you, then leave you for dead. or, they shoot you because they think you’re infected. 
“please don’t hurt me, i’m, i’m not infected, i swear.” you sobbed, looking down at your knees that felt numb being buried in the snow. 
you heard a shuffle, then something hit the floor, and the crunch of snow under a pair of boots. until you saw them right in front of you, and the person lowered themselves down to your height. 
the man tilted your chin up with his glove-covered fingers, and made you look at him. 
“you ain’t got nothin’ to be scared of, come on, we’ll get ya some clothes,” 
and that was it. joel was the one who kept you away from the men that stared you down like a piece of meat that day, he kept you away from tommy, who kept telling him it was a bad idea. but quickly referenced when he and ellie came into town, and they took them in like nothing. 
he kept you safe. and he let you stay with him for the time being, until you managed to find a job down at the local bar. then, the two of you kind of went your separate ways. you found a little house at the corner that tommy told joel to give you, and managed to live by yourself for the year you were there. 
joel didn’t want you on patrol routes, or to forage for things that the town needed. he needed you safe, even when he wasn’t there. 
you hadn’t talked to joel, but he managed to come to the tipsy bison every friday, sitting at the bar by himself and watching you. 
“you know,” you start as you are cleaning the beer glasses and wiping down the sticky table after closing. joel was the only one still there. 
“you come here every friday, ever since i started working here, but everyone i’ve ever heard from tells me you like to drink alone. in the comfort of your own house,” you said, wiping the bar down in front of him. 
“jus’ makin’ sure you ain’t in no trouble over here,” he mumbled behind his last drink, downing the rest of the mahogany liquid. he did a subtle look down your shirt as you wiped the bar down in circles, watching your cleavage come into view. 
you just chuckled. “i think i’ll be okay. i promise you’ll be the first one i go to if i need help.” 
that made a small smile tug on his lips. 
“let me walk ya home,” 
so he did. except he didn’t leave after that. that night, the two of you drank a little more at your place, and things got a little heated. in the midst of stretching you out for the very first time, he was whispering things you would’ve claimed were little nothings, but seemed as if he was declaring his need for you. 
“fuck baby, tell me, whose pussy is this? who else is stretchin’ ya out like this?” 
“pretty fuckin’ girl, i swear i’ll fuckin’ kill for ya, won’t let nobody come near ya,” 
“you ain’t leavin’ me, darlin’. this pussy is fuckin’ mine,” 
and you never did, and he always kept his promise. four years later, after him being the one to fix your wounds and give you clothes, a place to stay — you lived with him. ellie ended up being able to take patrol routes occasionally, moving into a small house with dina. she was even glad he had someone to look after him, to take care of him as he cared for everyone. 
joel had just came in towards the end of the night from patrolling with tommy, mumbling about how he’s sort of an idiot. you could barely hear his banter from your bedroom, ears perking up at the sound of the door opening and slamming closed.
“baby?” you called out from the bedroom as he walked to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer. his eyes searched for you in the darkness of the living room, until he ended up walking to the back hall to the room you both slept in. 
his face softened, giving a little smile as he walked over to you and plopped on the bed next to you. the force almost made you drop the book you were reading, so you dog-eared the page and put it on the table as you turned to curl into him. 
“you smell like outside,” you said as you crinkled your nose. 
“fuckin’ tommy, stressin’ me out. he wanted t’ stay longer for maria just in case but it was a fuckin’ ghost town, nothin’ was even there, but he’s fuckin’ stubborn.” 
you just sighed and let your face rest on his chest as his arm threw over behind you, rubbing the side of your body. “well, you’re home now.” 
he sighed, taking a swig from the beer and moved to put it on the bedside table. he just threw his head back, used his forearm to cover his eyes and breathe in and out. you just looked at him, a little empathetic. 
you started to kiss his chest, the one with the dirty shirt he wore to patrol and up his body, to his neck and jaw. with the movements, you swiftly swung your leg over one side and straddled him, making his arm move and his head tilting down to get a look at you. 
you just watched him, watching you, and smiled as you sat directly on his groin. 
“i know you’re stressed, but,” you started and rubbed over his tummy and pecs, “i need you.” 
you said with lust in your eyes, and he just smirked as he watched you reach under his shirt to feel the warmth of his body. 
“my baby needs me, ‘s that right?” he asked lowly, his voice sounding raspy and gruff. his hands rested on the width of your hips, loving the way you were so curvy and plush for him.
you just nodded, and moved to where you could unbuckle his pants and try to shimmy them down with his help. after you got his pants and boxers to his knees, you spit in your hand and gripped the shaft of his half hard cock. 
“i love you,” you said as you started to feel him harden in your hands, his own hands moving to the tank top you had on and yanking the fabric down to see your breasts. 
“you know i love you, baby,” he said and reached to play with your heavy breasts, tugging your nipple and playing with both of them so he could watch them peak. 
“i’m just real tired, honey,” he started as he felt your grip on his cock soften, and watched your face turn with disappointment until he grabbed your face and made you look at him. 
“you wanna help me out, darlin’?” he asked and you nodded with your eyebrows furrowed, “alright then, come lay down right here,” 
he patted the side of the bed that you slept on, and you let go of his cock before pouting and sliding down to the side next to him. you faced the opposite direction, facing the wall as you heard him get up and start taking all of his clothes off before sliding under the blankets with you. 
“you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby, such a pretty fuckin’ pussy you have,” he said in your ear as he pulled you flush to his back, gripping your asscheeks before pulling one cheek apart from the other, feeling the wetness you gathered at your cunt. 
“always so wet f’ me, always so good to me,” he breathed on your neck. he felt your legs move apart so he’d have more access, and he just smiled, kissing on your shoulder. 
you didn’t know what he was planning on doing until you felt him guide the tip of his fully hard length up and down your cunt, still using one hand to move the thickness of your ass so he’d have access to your juices.
“joel,” you whined and moved your hips back to his, and finally felt his tip slip inside of you. 
“please,” you begged as he stretched you completely, feeling full even as he’s halfway. 
he lifts the blankets to watch you take him from behind, watching how his cock the was lathered with your juices as he thrusts softly into you before he bottoms out completely. 
but he doesn’t move, and instead kisses on your shoulder before going to your back, kissing there and wrapping his arm around your waist to rest on the fat of your tummy. 
“wait, joel i-” you started before he just squeezed your breast, leaving his hand to rest there. 
“mm-mm, we’re goin’ to sleep,” he said, but the feeling of his cock being buried inside of you was too distracting. you couldn’t sleep. 
“but joel,” you whined, your hand resting on top of his as you felt the heat of his breath against your neck. 
“go to sleep, i promise i’ll give you want you want baby, jus’ let me feel you like this, yeah?” he asks and you involuntarily moan a little, your movements of trying to fuck back on his cock failing. 
“i love feelin’ you like this, sweet girl. could be buried in this fuckin’ cunt for years,” he whispered as he squeezed your tit again, “you fit me so fuckin’ perfectly,” 
“i love when you fill me up, joel,” you whispered ss you hugged his arm, leaving kisses on it and making joel smile against your skin. 
“aw, my baby, loves when i just keep you on my cock, just so i can feel you. love when you keep me warm inside that little fuckin’ cunt,” he growled and you whined, trying to squirm and get some movement in. 
he just holds you tight, not letting you move. the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim made your cunt clench, and he groaned at the feeling. you felt like you were suffocating, practically feeling his cock in your throat as he just laid there behind you and kissed your skin. 
“go to sleep, baby. i promise i’ll make ya cum over n’ over til’ i gotta leave,” he said, and your heart skipped a beat at the proposition.you knew he was telling the truth, because he’s done it before. 
he’s made you soak the sheets before it even hit six in the morning, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and ravishing in it. the best thing he could ever do with his time is watch you fall apart because of him, and make you feel good. 
so, you fell asleep with him still inside of you, feeling the dull throb of his cock and your cunt mixed together, the feeling of when he would move to pull you closer because he slipped out of you a little bit. 
he craved you, even in his sleep. 
and the next morning when he woke up, he was still buried inside of you and looked at where you two connected, seeing the pool of your arousal leaking onto him, and on the bed. 
so he kept his promise, and used the newfound arousal you built up to slide out of you, and slide right back in. until you woke up, and tightened on his cock as he fucked you awake. 
joel was obsessed with you, and that meant if he could have you sitting on his cock while he did his day to day things, he would. and he’s tried. but feeling you soak him, squeeze him and cry out for him made him feel a whole other type of gratuity. 
you were grateful he was the one that took you in, he was the one that cared for you and protected you, and he was grateful that you let him walk you home that night, grateful that you only trusted him and not anyone else. 
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TAGLIST
@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @dirtydianaahah
let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist!
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ghost-in-the-hall · 2 months
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Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Pt. IX
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Part 9 has finally arrived!!! This chapter we begin to move into winter as the first big snow storm of the year hits (really funny that I'm getting around to publishing this in the dead of the July heat lol). Everyone's finally starting to settle into the dynamic which will lead to some... Interesting interactions while the five of them are stuck in close quarters. I am still having issues with getting everyone tagged because Tumblr hates me, but if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know! Thank you so much for reading!
WARNINGS: Some suggestive behavior
My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link! ~ Tip Jar!
Part VIII - Part X (TBA)
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“Do you think the storm is going to be that bad?” Vessel asks. “It’s all we’ve been hearing about on the radio for the past few days.”
“It’s probably going to get pretty nasty. They’re expecting most of the town to lose power.” You bounce your leg nervously, watching him pause to go over his mental checklist in his head. “Would you, um… would you like to stay with me?”
He chuckles as he approaches the counter, “Scared of the big, bad snowstorm, lovey?” He teases with a smile.
“I’m not scared.” You snap back instantly, rolling your eyes. “It’s just,” Vessel didn’t miss the way the concern immediately crept back into your tone, “you’re so far out in the woods; what if something happens and no one can get out there to help.” His expression softens, reaching up to caress your cheek. You can't help but lean into his touch, his palm warm against your skin.
“If you’re more comfortable with us here, we’ll stay. Besides, do you really think I’m going to turn down a chance to spend more time with my girl?” Your cheeks grow warm as a flustered smile spreads across your lips. You still hadn't gotten used to Vessel so adamantly declaring you as his.
“Good,” you respond, trying your best to appear confident, “I need someone to keep me warm.” You smile coyly at him, making Vessel chuckle.
“Well, feeling bold today, are we beautiful?” His expression darkens slightly as a devious glint appears in his eyes. Your pulse immediately quickens as he offers you a sharp smile, his massive form towering over you, “You want to be in my arms, pretty girl?” He coos, making your face burn. He leans down, bringing his face in front of yours. “I'll hold you all night if that's what you want.” He whispers. He can't help but laugh slightly at your flustered expression, calling you cute as he straightens back up. “I'll be back in about an hour with the others. Let us take care of dinner tonight; you deserve to be spoiled for once.”
“Just be safe, okay? Everything always gets a little crazy around here on storm days.” He takes your hand, slowly bringing your knuckles to his lips.
“I'll be back before you know it.” He smiles sweetly. “Promise.”
While Vessel went to get the others, you took the time to make preparations. You were lucky enough to have the store beneath you; if you lost power, the fridges and your supply of ice would be sufficient to keep things cold for a while. You gathered all the candles and extra blankets from around your apartment, piling them up in one area with your other emergency supplies. You can’t help but smile when there’s a knock at your door. You squeal as III’s large hands wrap around your waist, lifting you effortlessly from the floor. “There she is!” He exclaims excitedly, spinning you around in a hug. You’re suddenly sandwiched between him and IV; you let out a pleased hum as III slots his lips against yours, IV peppering your face with kisses simultaneously.
IV nuzzles his face against yours as III pulls back. “We missed you, doll.” You spin around, slipping into IV’s arms, letting him hug you close as III starts bringing things into the kitchen. He sways you gently in his arms, taking a moment to memorize the feeling of you being pressed against him before pulling back. “I'm going to help the others set up.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
II pushes through the door, arms full of what appeared to be pillows, as he struggles to keep his grip on all of them. “Want some help with that?” You offer with a giggle.
“That'd be great, thanks.” He responds with a chuckle of his own. You smile coyly at him, your arms sliding over his shoulders as he saunters up to you. “And how are you doing today, beautiful?”
“Much better now that you're all here.” You respond softly.
He hums approvingly, “That’s what I like to hear.” He trails a finger along your jaw, carefully tilting your chin until he can easily kiss you. Even the gentlest kisses from II always managed to take your breath away, and now was no different. “You just hang back and relax, love. Let us handle everything.”
Your heart always felt so full whenever all five of you were together. You would never get sick of how lively the group of them made you and your home feel. “Here you go.” You smile as IV slips a glass of wine into your hand, collapsing onto the couch at your side. Vessel, II, and III were currently bickering over something in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone for what felt like the first time in forever. “I have something for you.” He states softly. He takes your hand, rummaging around in his bag with the other until he produces a small, brown leather notebook. “Here.” He offers it to you; you can't help but smile at the gift.
“What's this?” You ask curiously. You open to the first page, and IV’s messy script is the first thing you see. ‘For my favorite girl, hopefully, this makes up for all the times I should have bought you flowers.’ You flip to the second page to find a perfectly preserved pressed flower. A bright orange bloom sat atop a stem of tiny green leaves; the date IV must have picked it, and the flower's name should have been written in the upper right corner. The rest of the book followed a similar pattern. A collection of vibrant reds, purples, and golds filled the rest of the pages. You could tell how carefully every flower was handled just by how it was presented to you on the page.
“Whenever I find a flower I think you'd like, I press it in a book. That way, you can keep them forever without them wilting.” The gesture was so sweet you blinked rapidly to clear the tears from your eyes.
“Thank you, IV, this is incredible.” You set the book carefully down on the table, reaching out and pulling him into your arms. He wasted no time melting into you, his arms circling your waist as he returned your embrace.
“You make me really happy, you know that?” You smile, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
“So do you.” You both reluctantly separate from each other. You rest a hand on IV’s cheek, smiling softly at him as you study how his features curve under the fabric of his mask. You carefully take his face in your hands, guiding him forward to kiss his forehead. He smiles, letting out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
“Dinner’s ready!” You both jump as you hear Vessel call from the kitchen. He stands, helping you from the couch. IV pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Let's go before it's all gone.” He chuckles
You stood at III’s side, helping him clean up after dinner. “That food was amazing.” You remark, making him chuckle.
“I try my best.” He responds humbly. “Working with whatever we can grow or hunt, I want to ensure it, at least, tastes good.” You finish drying off the wine glass you had been using earlier, pushing yourself up on your toes to struggle to reach the top shelf. III chuckles; you freeze as you feel the warmth of his body creep up your back, nearly making you drop the glass in the process. “Need some help, love?” He whispers, making you shiver. His long arms can easily reach up to set the glass back in its spot. His hands find their way to your waist, lifting you from the floor to put you on the counter easily. “I can finish up here; you can just relax.” He chuckles as you pout in response.
“You cooked dinner; the least I could do is help with the dishes,” you protest. He places his hands on either side of your waist as he leans closer.
“I think the least you could do is let someone take care of you for a change.” He whispers, making your cheeks grow warm. He studies you, a playful expression growing on his face as he realizes your flustered state. His hands leave the counter, massaging your plush thighs before they slide to your back, pulling you closer to him. You felt so small in his hands, but he still easily towered over you from your position on the counter. He ran his hands soothingly up and down your sides. You forced yourself to stifle the soft whine that threatened to leave you at the feeling of his strong hands against your body. “You're always so worried about taking care of everyone else. When was the last time someone did the same for you?”
Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your thoughts growing fuzzy as you began to feel like putty under III’s touch. “But–” he hushes you softly as you start to argue.
“You deserve to be spoiled.” He says softly, lifting his mask enough to kiss you. “I want to make sure that you are.” You let out a pleased sound as he pushes into you. Your hands roam over his chest; you groan at the feeling of his muscles tensing under your palm. This kiss with III felt different than the others you had shared. This one was noticeably more intense and needy than when you kissed him. His fingers massaged into your muscles as he desperately sought to have you any closer to him than you already were. His breathing was heavy when the two of you finally separated; you could feel the way his hands trembled slightly against your skin.
“What's wrong?” Worry is immediately prominent in your tone.
“Nothing, doll.” He responds gruffly. “It's just if I keep kissing you like that–” he trails off with a chuckle.
“Too bad it's not just the two of us.” You respond under your breath. III’s gaze snaps to you, unsure if he had heard you correctly or not at first. You glance up at him through your lashes, and III could have sworn in that moment his heart stopped. You lean up, placing a gentle kiss on his clothed lips. “Hopefully, that’s not the last time you kiss me like that.”
“Trust me, you don't have to worry about that.” He smiles in response.
“Are you two done in there or what?” You hear II call, “Did we really have that many dishes?”
You giggle, “We should get back to the others.” He chuckles, nodding his agreement.
You found yourself seated in Vessel’s lap; your legs stretched over IV’s legs as he held your hand, your feet resting comfortably in III’s lap as he made easy work of massaging away all the tension in your muscles. II sat on the floor in front of the couch, holding your free hand in his own and bringing your knuckles to his lips every so often. You had thrown on a movie, some mindless holiday comedy that everyone seemed content with. You leaned into Vessel’s chest, letting your head fall against his shoulder. He smiles at you, carefully reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear. “You less nervous now, love?” He asks softly.
“How could I be nervous? I have all of you within arms reach.” You giggle. He hugs you close, the two of you enjoying the chance to be so close to each other. Just as your eyes grew heavy, your apartment was plunged into complete darkness. “Shit.” You curse, attempting to hurry out of Vessel’s lap; you pause when he gently squeezes your hip.
“II.” He states simply.
“On it.” Before you could ask what was happening, a match was struck to life. But all the candles were on the other side of the apartment; there was no way he could have gotten over there–
“I'll get the stove started.” III stands, placing your feet in IV’s lap. “These two better do a good job of keeping you warm.” He chuckles, quickly pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by.
You didn't have to lift a finger. Before you knew it, the wood stove was warming the living room, candles casting a soft orange glow over the entire space, and a mug of tea warming your hands as you sat sandwiched between IV and II on the couch. The night sped by as you found yourself playing card games, laughing to the point your sides hurt as you witnessed them bicker and repeatedly get caught trying to cheat. “I'm not counting cards!” II protests.
“You absolutely are!” III argues, “Don't think I can't see you counting on your hands!” II opens his mouth to respond, only for III to cut him off, “Disqualified! You are disqualified!” II groans, admitting defeat as he throws his cards on the table.
Vessel wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “You're looking a little tired, love.” You couldn't even attempt to argue as a yawn forces its way past your lips. “Let's call it a night.” He announced, helping you from the floor. “Goodnight.” Vessel leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Goodnight, Ves.” You smile, slipping into his arms for one final hug. You exchange your good nights with the others, reluctant to leave them even though you would only be in the next room. You could hear them all get settled as you lay in bed, your apartment eventually becoming deathly quiet once again. You lay there for what felt like hours, and it had only been about 20 minutes when you checked the time. You sigh, sitting up in bed. You stare at the door, debating whether any of them were still up. You toss back your covers and leave your bed, wincing slightly as the floorboards creak beneath your feet. You carefully crack open your bedroom door, glancing into the living room only to find Vessel still awake, reading a book under the low candlelight. “Everything alright, love?” He asks quietly. It took you a moment to respond, surprised that he realized you were there.
“I just can’t sleep.” You admit sheepishly, opening the door just wide enough to reveal yourself. He closes the book he was reading, setting it on the end table behind him.
“Come here, sweetheart.” He beckons you closer with a nod of his head. You carefully maneuver around the others, who had found a comfortable spot on the floor for the night. Vessel opens his arms for you, allowing you to crawl into his warm embrace. You cuddled into his chest, the heavy weight of his arms around your waist immediately lulling you into a new state of comfort as you melted into him. He tilts his head back; you swallow thickly as you realize just how nice it would feel to have your lips trail along the skin of his neck. You quickly shook the thought from your mind as he blew out the candle. “What’s troubling that pretty little head of yours, hm?” He purrs. You were finding it hard to concentrate. Vessel’s body was so warm every ache in your muscles simply seemed to vanish as you allowed your fingers to trail over his bare skin. He smelled of damp earth, musky incense, and the subtle sweetness of freshly cut flowers.
“Can I ask you something?” You whisper, looking up at him despite the fact you could barely make out the outline of his face.
“Of course.” He responds in the same quiet tone. He adjusts his position, hoisting you up higher on his chest to bring your face closer to his. “You can ask me anything you like, love.”
You could feel his lips brush against yours as he spoke; the feeling was enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Do you think about me?”
“Love, the image of you never leaves my mind.” You can’t help but smile at his response. “I can’t even begin to describe how special you are to me.” He carefully cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb trailing across your jaw. “I must not be doing a very good job as your boyfriend.” He jokes with a chuckle. “There’s got to be some way for me to prove how crazy I am about you.” The edge of his mask bumps against your cheek as he pushes it off his face. His hand carefully cradled your head, guiding your lips down to meet his. You could feel his heartbeat racing under your palm. He kissed you hesitantly at first, his whole body rigid as he waited to see how you would respond to such a bold gesture from him. He had kept you at arm’s length since he met you, not because he didn’t care about you. It was the exact opposite. If he wasn’t careful, Vessel felt he could easily find himself becoming infatuated with you, something that could cost him dearly if you ended up stabbing him in the back like so many others had in the past. Yet, over the time he had known you and the short time you had been together as partners, your affection for him never wavered. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as Vessel slid a hand under your shirt, his tough, calloused hands rough against your back. “There isn’t a second that passes by where I’m not thinking of you; the sound of your laugh, the way you smile, the way you seem to fit so perfectly in my arms; I am always thinking about you.” He confesses breathlessly against your lips. You let out a soft hum of approval as he crushes his lips against yours again, struggling to stay quiet but not wanting to risk waking the others. You felt like you would die if Vessel stopped kissing you. He groans at the feeling of your hands timidly wandering his body, shaky fingers tracing along the outlines of his muscles as your lips melded perfectly to his. He kissed you until there was physically no air left in his lungs. You struggle to steady your rapidly pounding heart. You rest your hand on the side of his face, gently trailing along the peak of his cheekbone. He caught your hand in his, startling you slightly at the abruptness. He brings your knuckles to his lips. “No matter how much I would like to keep kissing you, you should probably get some rest, love.” He says with a chuckle.
“Now, how is that fair?” You ask coyly, “You make me wait all this time to kiss you, and I only get to do it once?” He tilts your chin up with his thumb. You could feel him smile against your lips. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Your eyes flutter shut as you’re met with another euphoric kiss, “but you have to get some sleep.” You grumble out your reluctant agreement, placing one final chaste kiss on his lips before settling against his chest, your eyes feeling heavy as your adrenaline wears off.
You’re woken up the following morning by a knock at the door. You sit up, wiping away the sleep in your eyes as you try to make sense of your situation. You had fallen asleep in the living room last night after coming to see Vessel; you remembered that much. All four of them were already awake and much more alert than you were at the sudden disturbance. “Relax, I’m sure it’s just the plow guy or something.” You reassure them. You stand, shivering as all the warmth is rapidly stolen from your body. You unlocked your door, opening it just enough to peer outside. Your stomach dropped at seeing the police officer on the other side.
He greets you with a familiar smile, “Got a second to talk?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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mcsstydia · 2 months
Text
Faking it - Finnick Odair
prompt: you won the hunger games, now snow forces you to sell your body. your mentor, finnick odair, proposes the both of you fake a relationship so the capitol citizens won’t be interested in you anymore.
pairing: finnick odair x reader
Warnings: mentions of forced sexual labor
word count: 2.2k
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You won the hunger games. After weeks of fighting to survive, of hiding, of pure fright, of killing children who were not much older than you, you won the games. Now, a lifetime of glory and wealth awaited you, right?
You could have never been more wrong. You could have guessed that there was a flaw to what was promised to you. Sometimes, before and also after the games, your mentor, finnick odair, would look at you with a kind of concealed sadness, as if he knew there was something just as bad as the games would wait for you once you survived.
Finnick was 19, only two years older than you, but you had a feeling sometimes you could see in his eyes he had already endured a lifetime worth of pain. Turns out, your feeling was right about the amount of pain his heart had to carry.
Two months after you've won the games, when you've returned home, on a late Wednesday afternoon, Finnick rang the bell at your new house in the victor village. As you opened the door, you were unexpectedly greeted with the handsome man that was Finnick Odair. You had had a crush on him for forever, and it had only intensified during the time where he was your mentor.
Your stomach began to turn in nervous circles. Why was he here? Did he come to see you? Spend time with you even? Wait, that was not it. You could see it in his face. You were good at reading him.
His gaze rose from where it had been previously fixed on the ground to meet yours. There it was again, that sadness. ''What happened?'', you asked, scared it had to do with your mother, who was out of the house for the evening. ''Your mother is alright.'', Finnick said calmly, as if having read your mind.
You visibly relaxed and exhaled. Nonetheless, your grip around the edge of the door did not loosen. ''Then what it is?'', you asked anxiously, trying to seem collected, composed. But Finnick knew you almost as well as you did him.
''Can I come inside?'', he asked in turn. You nodded silently, your body began buzzing with anxiety. The pleasant turns your stomach initially performed upon seeing Finnick had now turned into unpleasant ones. Finnick headed for your living room and you followed him blindly. He pulled up an armchair and gestured you to take place on the couch. He placed the armchair so it was right in front of the couch. Both of you sat down, and then he gently took both of your hands into his large, warm ones.
This is how bad it was? Normally, you would jump in the air at the touch of his hands on your skin. Now, you could feel the colour draining from your face and the warmth leaving your hands in dread of what was to come.
''Just tell me'', you demanded. You knew he would search for the best way to tell you, to somehow sugar-coat it. Finnick looked at you, and you knew he could see in your eyes that this was what you needed.
''Snow sells the good-looking winners to the citizens of the capitol. At least their body. And now he wants to sell you.'', he said. For a moment, the information had to sink in. Then, you could feel the remaining control you had had over your facial muscles seep away. All expression fell from your face, your eyes made no effort to conceal the tears that came flooding in, and your hands began shaking in the gentle hold Finnick had on them.
His grip around your hands strenghtened, but stayed gentle. ''No…'', you managed to breath out, shaking your head in disbelief. You could feel all the strength leaving your body. Finnick seemed to notice, or he had anticipated it, because he caught your head as it fell toward him, his hands gently cupping the sides of your face. A thought came to your mind about the person you cared most for in this world. In between ragged breaths, you managed to ask ''Did he do it to you?'' The look in his eyes was all you needed to know it was true.
Loud, ugly sobs escaped your lips and you made no effort to hide them. Finnick made no effort to calm you, he knew there was no point in telling you it was all going to be okay. ''I've got you,'', he whispered into single strands of hair, your head still in his hands.
He rocked your body back and forth in an attempt to tell you he was there, and he wouldn't leave. He had begun to do that on the first night after your name was drawn for the games. You had been in the train on your way to the capitol, as he found you on the floor, weeping. He held you the whole night, until you had finally managed to fall asleep. He had rocked you gently, had promised to get you out of the arena alive.
At this point, you had thought he would tell that to every young girl he would mentor. Now, you came to the tentative conclusion that you meant something to him.
Suddenly, he whispered, ''I have a plan,''. The sentence brought you back to reality. His hands never leaving your face, you managed to lift your head just so much as to be able to look in his eyes. His beautiful face was blurred by the tears still in your eyes, and by your already-swollen eyelids. He looked at you with concern, and care, and suddenly you knew you were anything to him but simply another tribute he had to mentor.
You realised you were more than important to him. His next sentences only proved how much you meant to him. ''I won't let him do that to you,'', he began, wiping away one of your tears with his thumb. You could also see fear in his eyes, but it was fear for your wellbeing, for your life.
''It's risky,'', he continued and breathed in. ''But I would risk it, for you.'', a deeper meaning of his words hung in the air, but it was not important now. ''If we fake to be in a relationship, Snow can't sell you. The capitol citizens would then never want to tear us apart.'', he explained. His word registered in your head, and the word fake sent a painful, but quickly fading, stab into your chest.
''Would they believe it?'', you asked. Finnick allowed himself to smile, and his fingers carressed your cheeks. You thought you could read him well, but you weren't so sure now. His expression screamed 'of course they'll believe us, look at how in love I am with you', but he couldn't really think that. He couldn't. You would know if he had feelings for you, and you were sure he did not.
Something brought him back from his thoughts into the situation. So he said, ''I hope they do. That's why I said it's risky. If they do not believe it, if Snow does not believe it, we would be in a lot of trouble.'' You pressed your lips together, and then nodded. ''Why would you do that for me?'', you asked, and then imeediately wanted to take the question back.
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ''Because I care about you.'', he whispered, holding your gaze. ''Once we do this,'', he continued. ''there's no going back. It will be us against the world, probably until we die. Do you realize that?'', he asked.
For once, you hoped he could not read your face, or your thoughts for that matter. Did you realize that? Yes. Was it scary? Of course. But was it scary because that meant you had to spend the rest of your life with him? No. That was the only part of this whole thing that sounded like heaven. Instead of telling him any of this, you nodded as an answer.
The next weeks Finnick and you prepared your 'relationship'. You got to know each other better, to make it seem as realistic as possible that you were in love. Many nights were spent like this, quietly, so as even your mother would not know. Many nights ended with your head in his lap, with his fingers running through your hair. Many nights, in which the both of you fell asleep on your couch, or in his bed, all the while holding on to each other.
When your victory tour began, while visiting the districts, you made apparent that you were a couple. Word quickly got out about the new power couple of victors. On the nights on the train, Finnick often lay next to you, to hold you through your cries. It was agonizing to visit the districts of the children who died in the games you were a part of.
Your new relationship was so important to the capitol citizens, that, once in the capitol, both finnick and you were invited to Ceasar Flickerman's show. So you sat there, with Finnick next you, his hand in yours. You had gotten used to the pleasant feeling that was ilicited whenever he touched you. You had gotten used to having him near, so it was not hard to appear happy next to him. It had never been, though.
The people loved you. Everyone adored the two of you together. So much so, that president Snow let go of forcing you into selling your body to the citizens of the capitol. For now.
For now, you were on your way back home from the capitol to district 4. For now, there was the slight hope that things would stay that way, and it was all thanks to Finnick. On this first night on your way back home, you hadn't asked Finnick to come into your room. He had spent the night next to you for the whole of the victory tour, calming you down, holding you when you cried.
But now? You thought Finnick was tired of taking care of you every night. You thought Finnick deserved a night to himself. After all, he wouldn't get many of those anymore that you were in a 'relationship' with him. So you lay there, on your bed, your hands neatly folded on your stomach, your thoughts almost as loud as the train on the tracks. When the doors to your compartment opened, you sat up in your bed, startled and scared. It was only when you saw that it was Finnick who entered, that you relaxed again. Somewhy, you stood up from your bed out of reflex. Finnick looked agitated, and for a moment you feared he brought bad news again. His mouth stood slightly agape, he was breathing heavily, and his eyes frantically scanned your body.
''I don't want to sleep without you,'', he suddenly blurted out. Shock was an understatement. You couldn't help yourself. ''What?'', you brought out as an answer.
The usually calm, confident Finnick he could so easily present himself as for the cameras was nowhere to be seen. He seemed scared, agitated, and lost all at once. ''I-..'', he began tentatively, and took a step toward you.
''I don't want to sleep without you. I don't want to, and I can't, for that matter, when you are not next to me, when I don't know you're safe, when I cannot feel your body next to mine.'' Although he obviusly tried to explain himself, you were no smarter than before.
Finnick could see that you were not sure what he was trying to tell you. He took a few steps until he stood directly in front of you. He took your face into his hands. ''This,'', he continued, gesturing to the two of you. ''It was never fake to me. I never wanted it to be fake. I love you. I have loved you for a long, long time, and I plan on doing it for the rest of my life.'', finally, he seemed to exhale of what seemed to have been a breath he had held for a long time.
Tears began pooling in your eyes. And for the first time in a long time, they were tears of happiness. ''Oh Finnick Odair, are you really so blind as to think I ever wanted it to be fake? I am madly in love with you.'', you finally confessed, and a grin so wide he had never managed to fake for the cameras spread across his lips.
''And now, kiss me, please,'', to any other person, this would have sounded like begging. But it was Finnick, and it was you, and you were both so madly in love nothing else mattered.
So Finnick did what you asked him to do. Slowly, he leaned down, and let his lips brush against yours. After that, it was instant. You both were so hungry for each other, so desperate to finally be able to touch each other in a way you had only dreamed of.
Hands were tangled in hair, and roamed the body of the other. Your lips and teeth clashed against one another, but the kissing erupted feelings in your stomach, and heart, and the whole body, really, that you had never thought could exist. When you broke apart, the both of you giggled, caressed each other's skin, and placed delicate kisses here and there.
That night, you fell asleep in each other's arms again, kissing, holding each other. For the first time in a long time, you weren't scared of the future, because you knew either way, you would spend it with Finnick.
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catalinaromanoff · 1 month
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changing alongside the seasons
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natasha romanoff x pyrokinetic reader
summary: i touched a bit on natasha and y/n’s dynamic change in my first work, overheated, but i wanted to go more in depth! PLEASE REQUEST STUFF!!!!
warnings: mission injury/stitching, mean nat, panic attack, self conscious thoughts
детка (detka) = babe
y/h = your hair type (waves, curls, braids, etc.)
winter:
“and it’s so hard. and it’s cold here.” (iykyk)
i groan as i hear tony’s unbelievably chafing voice again. for the third time in about the last ten minutes, he has complained about the cold surrounding us.
we were currently on a stakeout mission out in russia. tony and i had separated from the group in order to keep an eye on more ground, but obviously that was a mistake. due to my pyrokinetic abilities, i couldn’t even feel the freezing temperatures tony was complaining about. unfortunately for me, tony was making sure i was aware about how agonizing it was.
of course they would leave the most annoying person outside in freezing russian winter weather.
to be honestly i was a bit skeptical at the fact that he was truly that cold. he was the one with the super cool and techy suit, and i was clad in just my regular hero suit. no jacket, no snowboots, just me and my body. i mean it makes sense considering im a portable heater.
tony and i were currently crouched behind a huge tree log that had fallen over who knows how long ago. tony was sitting criss crossed with his back against the trunk while i was crouched. i would peek over the trunk every once in a while waiting for the signal to ambush. i envied steve, natasha, clint, and wanda. they were inside. away from tony stark.
“cmon y/n, spare me a bit of your demon powers. i think the world is gonna miss my ass if it so happens to freeze off while we’re out here.”
i roll my eyes.
“do you ever shut up? we’re supposed to be paying attention and making sure we dont miss the signal-“
“yea that’s cute and all, but i’m freezing. now cmon, lend me a bit of warmth.”
i scoff and send a glare his way.
“is that really how you’re gonna ask me? and anyway, how will i even be able to heat you up through that clunky suit you have on??”
there’s a beat of silence. finally.
however the silence doesn’t last long. i spot steve up on the rooftop of the hydra facility giving us the signal. i dont know who came up with it, but i giggle at steve trying to do a bird motion.
“let’s go tony, time to beat up some bad guys.”
~~
okay sooo the bad guys ended up beating us.
it’s funny now that i think about it. like they literally ambushed us when we were supposed to be ambushing them.
anyway, the mission group was currently sitting quietly in the quinjet. clint was piloting the jet while natasha was co-piloting. wanda currently sat next to me on one of the very big seats on the quinjet. something tony said about having “maximum beauty sleep room.” speaking of tony, he was thankfully sleeping at a desk located across from where me and wanda were sitting. why there was a desk there instead of a coach of some sort is beyond me. anyway, he looked silly. his mouth was open, he was snoring, and probably worst of all: drooling.
definitely not a contender for a live action sleeping beauty movie.
i place my focus back on wanda and stitching up a pretty nasty cut she had received on her right thigh. i was about halfway through when i hear some chittering. the others were obviously cold because they had been dragged through snow, which was why they opted to wear jackets and sweaters even though we were inside. but of course, natasha refused. she used her usual excuse of russians being immune to the cold.
i look over at natasha and just like i had suspected: she was shivering.
“hey baby?”
she doesn’t look over at me but instead keeps her eyes in front of her. caught red-handed.
“yes?”
“are you sure you don’t need a jacket or a sweater? something? maybe you could come over here and i could warm you up a bit.”
natasha furrows her eyebrows and shakes her head no.
“but i’m not cold?”
“my love, you are shivering. me and wanda can hear your chattering teeth from all the way over here.”
steve suddenly steps out of the quinjet’s bathroom.
“i agree with y/n, nat. i couldn’t do my business without listening to your chittering.”
i mouth the words “thank you” over to steve. he in turn gives me his signature bright smile and thumbs up.
“just let me finish wanda’s stitches and i’ll be able to hold you, okay?”
natasha hums and i can tell she is not happy.
“also, do me a favor and wipe that frown off of your face.”
i hear clint let out a little belly laugh at my comment and gives natasha a little smack on the arm.
“she got you there.”
around five minutes later i finish up with wanda and make sure nothing else is bothering her.
“alright babe, you’re good. if you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask me.”
wanda gives me a tired smile and nods.
“will do. thanks y/n.”
i watch as wanda walks across the quinjet and sets herself up to take a nap across two of the seats. once i make sure she has settled and is comfortable, i look over at natasha. i can tell she can feel my eyes burning into the back of her head, but being the stubborn woman that she is, ignores my staring.
“nat. cmere.”
nothing. i realize im gonna have to drag her over here the hard way.
i make my way over to where she is seated and stand behind her. my arms wrap around her shoulders and i stuff my face into her neck. im not too worried about my pyrokinesis considering she was nearly blue from how cold she was. a little heat wouldn’t hurt her.
i feel my body start to heat up and i decide to push her buttons a little. by blowing a bit of my breath on her neck i’ve succeeded in making tiny little goosebumps appear on her skin. i smile into her neck and place a few kisses on her neck.
just when she is getting used to the warm treatment, i pull away.
the groan i hear natasha let out is one of the greatest sounds in the world. i win.
“i don’t see why you need me, considering you’re not cold, ms russian spy.”
i know natasha is staring at me as i make my way back to the seat i had been residing in for the beginning of our flight. i close my eyes and wait for her to come to me.
much like i had anticipated, i feel a presence make itself imminent on my lap. i giggle as natasha puts her face in my neck much like i had done to her a few minutes prior. she lets her feet dangle over my lap and the seat.
“so much for not being cold, huh?”
nat blows raspberries on my skin which causes me to heat up. cheater.
nonetheless i wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to my chest. i let myself relax as i feel our breathing begin to sync up. i gaze down at natasha to see her piercing green eyes already looking at me. she leans up and we share a heartfelt kiss. i knew nat wasn’t always herself after missions and needed extra support, which explained why she was so comfortable with doing this stuff in front of our teammates. it was so cute.
we pull away from each other when we both run out of air. i pull back a bit and rub my nose against hers. we both giggle and i heat up my body more. nat in turn crawls further into me. her arms are now pressed against her chest and she moved her feet so that they were now on the outer side of my left thigh. it was perfect.
“i love you nat.”
i feel natasha hum against my neck. she begins kissing around that area to show me in a nonverbal way that she loves me as much as i love her.
spring:
i smile while gazing at myself in the mirror. i was currently wearing a gorgeous floral sundress that ended just above my knees. “not my fault” by reneé rapp was currently playing in my room and honestly, i felt really good. suddenly i hear a knock at the door and answer it immediately. i already knew it was natasha.
“hey baby. you almost ready?”
i watch as nat looks at me up and down. she smiles at me and suddenly starts kissing all around my face. her arms take their designated place at my waist and pull me closer to her.
getting my words through my giggles was so very hard.
“yea, im ready. you sure you don’t need me to help you with anything?”
“nope. everything is tied to the bike and ready to go.”
i pull away from nat, smiling. grabbing her hand i let her lead me to the elevator located on our floor. she presses the button designated for the garage and we are on the move downwards.
i look at the nature surrounding the compound through the glass of the elevator and find myself becoming entranced with it. the bright green trees and grass, the occasional family of deer making an appearance around the perimeter of the compound, the flocks of birds migrating back after a particularly cold new york winter.
i smile as i observe the beauty of nature. nature is one of the only stable things in our lives as humans. it always runs on a schedule and is never interrupted. nature doesn’t care if you suffered one of the worse losses in the winter, it always makes sure spring comes and everything brightens up.
life in general does not stop for us. everything around us is in constant motion and constantly changing, and it is up to us to keep up.
my thoughts are interrupted by the *ding* of the elevator. it scares me a little and i watch as the doors open.
nat walks ahead of me and we make our way over to her harley davidson motorbike. however, before we get on she grabs our helmets and hands mine to me. once her helmet is on and secure she sits herself down and i follow suit. i wrap my arms around her torso tickle her a bit. i hear her beautiful laugh as she swats my hands.
(reminder u should also b wearing protective gear when riding! didn’t write it in bc im a tad bit too lazy for my own good lol.)
nat then revs her bike. she slowly drives up to the garage doors, allowing them to open all the way up before she begins to pick up speed. honestly, the sensors on the garage doors are a nice detail. it made leaving easier.
we are then driving on the roads of new york. every once in a while i look back at the picnic basket located on the bike to make sure it doesn’t go flying. i notice we are on the highway then i realize we may be going farther than i thought.
i allow my head to rest on nat’s upper back. the soothing feeling of holding onto my lover, cruising in the streets, and the subtle vibrations of the motor slowly lulls me to sleep.
the next thing i know nat is patting my left thigh to wake me up. i slowly open my eyes and sit up before taking my helmet off. once nat realizes im awake she hops off the bike and grabs the picnic basket.
“morning sleepyhead.”
nat giggles at her own joke while i roll my eyes. i place my helmet on the opposite handle natasha had placed her own. she grabs my hand and helps me off the bike. i didn’t really need help considering the bike wasn’t very tall, but being the gentlewoman she was natasha had to help me with everything.
i continue holding nat’s hand while she leads me into the park we were going to have our picnic at.
the park is absolutely breathtaking. the trees vary in height but they all have a shade of vibrant green leaves among their branches and their bark is a rich shade of brown. the grass we were walking on was a beautiful shade of green as well. there were also a few patches of flowers in different spots.
nat stop and begins setting up the stuff once we reach a clearing. the clearing is located near a patch of daisies. i decide that while nat is setting up i would occupy my time by making a daisy chain for her.
i sit myself down near the daises and begin picking them. once i have finished picking the most perfect ones, i begin to make my daisy chain. the moment is perfection. the spring sun isn’t blazing but instead comforting, my hands are weaving the daises in a perfect rhythm, and the grass feels splendid under my dress-covered bum.
once i finish the daisy chain i get up and make my way back towards natasha. i see that she has just finished setting up our picnic, and so i sit down and keep the chain behind my back.
“i have a surprise for you.”
natasha looks up at me and raises her eyebrow.
“and what might that surprise be?”
“close your eyes.”
nat hesitates for a moment but eventually allows her eyes to close. i place the daisy chain onto her braid-free hair and then run my hands through her hair to ensure that it looks good and clean.
“okay, open your eyes.”
nat opens her eyes and i take her in. i take the moment in. the bright green grass covered by our red and white checkered blanket, the picnic basket’s contents scattered across the blanket. nat packed an extensive supply of our favorite foods. this included chocolate chip cookies, many many fruits, a chocolate bar and strawberries to create chocolate covered strawberries. she had also made us a cute breakfast of waffles and fried eggs.
the moment was perfect. exquisite, if you will. natasha look marvelous as well. her red hair was in it’s natural state; her slight waves laid just above her shoulders. she was in a white sundress that went down to her ankles. her pale skin was beginning to become sun kissed due to the seasons changing and the sun beginning to peek out more.
we were so entranced in the moment that we hadn’t even realized the sour weather that had begun to creep amongst us.
our moment is suddenly interrupted by a huge crack of thunder. the thunder is followed by an intense amount of rain soon after. natasha and i begin to giggle and laugh as we quickly begin to pack up our stuff. we rush as fast as we can towards the car but we are already drenched by the time we reach it.
“you know what, fuck it. nat drop your stuff. let’s dance!!”
nat looks at me like i have gone crazy.
“baby are you serious? it’s raining and thundering?”
i quickly place all the stuff im holding in my arms onto her motorbike. i grab nat’s stuff and place it onto the bike as well.
“fine. let’s dance.”
we both start laughing like young children. i excitedly grab both of my girlfriend’s hands and lead her back out to the clearing we collected our stuff from not even a minute earlier.
and so, we both begin to dance across the wet grass. at one point we had both kicked off our shoes. neither i or natasha had ever gotten the chance to be kids playing in we mud or dance in the rain. in a way we were both healing our own inner children.
as i stare into nat’s green eyes i begin to think about both of our upbringings and how we have even got to this point in time.
both of our childhoods were tragic. nat grew up in the red room, destined to be a spy. she had been for a while, until clint rescued her. i wasn’t so lucky. i actually did have quite a normal childhood until i turned six years old. my parents had gotten into some complicated business, and were eventually assassinated. one thing led to another, and i eventually got kidnapped by HYDRA.
suddenly im back in new york. right. im not longer that lost and scared six year old girl. im twenty seven years old now. im in love. im apart of a team now. im staring at the woman i’ve loved for the past six years.
“you okay?”
nat looks worried.
“i love you so much.”
my voice comes out wobbly and full of emotion. it’s because i truly love natasha. she saved me. i’ve found a reason to live for through her love and affection and care for me.
“oh, honey.”
she pulls me into her arms and suddenly we’re chest to chest. i begin to feel tears streaming down my face. judging from the sniffles reaching my ears, i can tell natasha is crying too.
we both stand there in the pouring rain taking each other in. we aren’t prisoners of our old lives anymore. she isnt a prisoner of the red room, and im not a prisoner of HYDRA.
we are just natty and y/n.
i feel my body fill with warmth, however this time it feels different. it isn’t from feeling shy or embarrassed, it’s from feeling the true love of natasha.
maybe things can get better.
summer:
“детка, we should go to the beach. only if you want to though.”
i look up from my book and over at natasha. we were both currently chilling out on our bed and just doing our own things. nat was currently laying on her stomach with her journal open.
“sure! right now?”
nat runs her hand through her hair.
“yea! i’ll bring everything to the car, you just focus on getting ready.”
i put my bookmark in my book and place i on my bedside table.
“im helping you.”
“but-“
“natasha.”
“okay, okay.”
~~
i loved nat and i’s spontaneous outings. it added a pop of fun to our dangerous and unpredictable lives. the fact we were able to be in control of these outings brought us both comfort and made us feel like we could actually have some jurisdiction over what we do.
i loved being the car almost as much as going out. all the windows were currently rolled down and my y/h hair was thrashing every which way. i knew once we left the car my hair would be one frizzy mess.
sometimes mess was okay. it made me feel human.
natasha rubs her thumb over my hand. i knew she only did this when she wanted to talk to me about something important.
“so, how are you feeling after the other day?”
i knew what she was referring to; my meltdown from the other day had been on her mind.
“i think i feel a bit better. thinking of maybe asking wanda for some help controlling my powers. im aware we have two entirely different kinds of powers but they might have the same concept. at least, that’s what i think.”
natasha squeezes my hand.
“im proud of you. it takes a lot of courage to ask for help like that. no matter how that goes with wanda, just know you are already so so strong for asking for assistance.”
nat pulls our hands up to her lips and kisses each of my fingers. she lets a small smile fall over her lips when she feels me warm up a bit.
~~
once we arrive at the beach i help natasha grab all of our things from the back of my white 2024 jeep wrangler. what can i say, im a basic girl. anyway, as we were walking across the hot sand i feel myself getting increasingly more excited about having a day at the beach. i always loved the beach, especially the ocean. it felt like my home.
while natasha set up the umbrella i began to assemble our chairs. as soon as i finished i quickly took off my jean shorts and begin applying my sunscreen.
nat finished constructing the umbrella not long after i applied my sunscreen to the lower part of my body.
i continued applying sunscreen to the top part of my body and face and looked at nat. she was already looking wt me with her beautiful forest green eyes.
“do-do you want some help applying your sunscreen?”
nat chuckles when she notices she’s made me nervous and nods her head. i spray the sunscreen onto her and allow her to rub it in on her own accord. i hand her the separate sunscreen bottle designated for her face.
once she’s done applying we both head on our way towards the ocean. my home. my refuge. it may seem weird, i mean a girl with pyrokinetic powers loving water? what a joke. but i mean, that’s me.
as we were stepping closer and closer to the blue ocean, i could feel the wet sand under my feet compacting with every step i took. it’s like i can feel each singular grain of sand underneath my feet.
the angry sound of the waves grew louder and i grew happier. i look over at nat and we both nod. we suddenly both start running into the ocean. we had this little race we always did before getting into the water. it allowed us to not think about how cold the bright blue water was.
once im around thigh-deep into the water i dive head first into the water. im lightyears in front of nat. i do one big push under the water with my arms before i allow myself to pop up to the surface. i jump as a wave approaches and look around for red-hair. i finally spot my beautiful girlfriend.
she’s not far behind, so i allow her to catch up a bit. i am at the point in the water where the lifeguard stands seem a little blurry due to the distance between us and them. once nat reaches my position i pull her into my arms.
she giggles as i begin to warm her up. the ocean was particularly cold today and i didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.
i continue to hold nat as more and more waves approach us. eventually she decides to straddle my torso and wrap her arms around my shoulders. she looked etheral. the sun was hitting her in just the right light; her eyes were their regular forest green except i could see a bit of her lighter greens, her hair was a fiery red, and her skin looked marvelous.
if im being hinest, my girlfriend always looked etheral. even during lazy days at the compound she never fails to look like she had just fallen from the sky above.
"you're staring."
"cus you're gorgeous."
nat hides her face in my neck and i can feel her giggle a bit. i hold her a bit tighter to my chest and giggle with her. too easyyy.
i wish loving nat could be as easy as it is in this current moment. my powers aren't in the way, none of us are hurt or sick, we are just nat and y/n. unfortunately things will never be normal.
autumn:
i furiously rub at my cheeks trying to get the hot tears to stop flowing from my eyes.
i was currently sat on one of the many uncomfortable benches located in central park. across from me was a small lake, surrounding me were many leaves of all shades; orange, yellow, maroon, mahogany, red. the seasons were officially changing.
suddenly i think of nat. the reason i was out here crying and observing nature was because of an argument we had. things got out of hand and the next thing i know i was bolting out the door in just my pajama pants and a tank top. no phone, no sweater, just me. i didnt even need a sweater anyway.
i feel the tears coming more furiously as im reminded of the reason why our argument had ensued. we have had countless disagreements over my pyrokinesis, but not like this. never like this.
~~
“baby i just don’t think it’s working. im trying so so hard to control it but i just can’t!”
i was exasperated. nat was exhausted from a mission.
it was a recipe for disaster.
“well, maybe you’re not trying hard enough. wanda was able to control her powers which are much more intricate than yours.”
“stop comparing me to her! i get it, she’s perfect and amazing! you say it all the time. maybe you should go date her instead of me.”
a tense silence falls over both us. we were both standing up on opposite sides of our shared bed. the autumn sun coming in from the opened window currently felt like a burning heat instead of a comforting warmth.
nat has her jaw clenched and she’s looking over to the side. her singular dutch braid is messy and has little hairs sticking out of it. in the sun’s light it looks like it is illuminated.
“well? anything to say for yourself?”
natasha remains silent and instead just crosses her arms. i have no idea what she’s thinking, how she feels, what she wants to say. i don’t even recognize her at this moment. suddenly i feel hot tears making their way down my face. is this how our relationship ends?
“y/n, i would never break up with you. i never will. i promise. i just think we.. we need a break. just look at both of our own lives and our own goals for a bit and figure out if we’re the right thing for each other.”
i felt my heart break in my chest. a break? i dash out of the door. i feel like my lungs aren’t supplying me with air.
i rush to the elevator. i press the lobby button.
next thing i know i’m dashing to central park.
once i arrive i feel breathless. i can barely recognize anything around me. my breaths become short and shorter, there’s no air. since when was it this hard to breath?
suddenly im pacing back and forth on one of the abandoned trails and shaking my hands, trying anything to breath again. i have had a few panic attacks before, but this one felt different. this one was so so much worse.
i run my hand through my hair just to be met with knots. why doesn’t anything go my way? im so pathetic. my breathing is getting worse.
i need to calm myself down because nat isn’t here right now.
~~
eventually i did end up calming myself down, which leads me to where i am now. i had found my favorite bench right in front of my favorite pond. i was just thinking about my life.
maybe nat wasn't serious about this break? i mean, all couples have problems at one point in their relationship, right? who am i kidding. she's actually breaking up with me. and i presume that she's gonna go crawl to wanda. oh, how i envy wanda. she is so much stronger, prettier, and less hot-headed than me. literally.
i sigh as i look out at the pond. i watch as a group of absolutely stunning swans begun to glide over the dirty new york water. what a contrast. milk-white swans with orange beaks resembling the color of the beautifully pigmented autumn leaves surrounding me in a random visibly dirty pond in new york. i only really liked this pond because many cute little animals (birds especially) established their home here.
suddenly an unknown prescence joins me on my bench. i flinch when i realize they're a bit too close to me. i look at this unknown person through my peripheral, but i genuinely thought my eyes were playing an extremely curel joke on me.
"natasha?" i turn to face her fully.
"hey."
natasha gives me a sad smile.
"why.. why are you here? not that i mind, i just thought.. you know."
"yea, um.. about that. i had some time alone, and i wanted to say.."
the end of her sentence was completely incoherent, but yet i smirk. i had a bit of an idea what she wanted to say. i mean, why else would she be sitting here with me if she truly wanted a break?
"what was that? i couldn't quite hear you."
natasha rolls her eyes.
"i said i was wrong. i don't think we need a break. even though we were only apart for about an hour, i was miserable. i had no one to tease. no one to call atupid or tell them 'stop before you get hurt.'"
i laugh and immediately pull her into a bone-crushing hug.
nat hygs me back. maybe with nit as much force, but the thought is still there.
just before i speak, i hear nat continue talking.
"i also wanted to apologize for those things i said to you about wanda. i only really want you. no, you cannot control your powers as confidently as wanda can, but wanda cannot love me like you do. you give me a love like no other. i sincerely apologize."
i pull away from nat, and intertwine our hands.
"i wanted to apologize too. we both said things we don't mean, but this argument will make our relationship stronger. it will make us stronger. i love you."
"i love you too."
we share many sweet kisses until we head back to the compound.
a/n: first of all, i wanted to thank you guys so so so so sooooo much for the great turnout on overheated! i really wasnt expecting for many likes, nonetheless 300+!! you guys are amazing and i am so glad you enojy my writing! secondly, im so sorry this took so long!!! this week has been quite hectic for me and i was writing portions of this throughout the week. nonetheless, i hope you enjoyed and continue to enjoy my writing!
p.s. would y'all be interested in me turning this story into nat x wanda x reader? 😏
taglist (comment to be added!): @idkwhatever580 @kkreader78o
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dc418writes · 5 months
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✨Pairing✨: felon!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader
Summary🪄: Surprisingly, you’re Ari’s first stop when he gets out of prison
🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!! Ari (first and foremost because hello☝🏾lol), angst, talks of prison, allusion to violence (male-male), allusion to childhood trauma, a few bad language words, unprotected happy adult fun times (everyone please be safe!)
A/N🎤: Hi! So this is my entry for the Cum Together Extravaganza created by the amazing, talented, wonderful, whore-mone inducing @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 lol, and I hope everyone enjoys☺️! *This idea is loosely based off Nicolas Cage’s character from Con Air (if you know you know✨)
*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was created by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*
Prompt: Pining + Running into each other after a long time apart + Frantic Kisses
His heavy boots stop just a foot or two away from the familiar steps he’d climbed plenty of times before. A mix of emotions swirling through his brain causing a tightness in his chest.
He shouldn’t be here.
Not after he’d all but physically pushed you out the visitation room that day. A common tactic of self sabotage he developed over the years, along with his way of trying to protect you from the eventual hurt he knew he’d put you through.
You were so angelic that day. Your natural glow competing with the sun outside shining through the window against your soft skin seemingly made of gold. Brown eyes full of worry, yet still holding that sparkle Ari had never experienced from anyone before. This wasn’t a place for you to be. A place that would soon tarnish your purity - so white the freshest snow, having fallen directly from the sky above, seemed dirty.
“You’re hurt,” you stated wanting so badly to reach out and try to do something for the blue and purple bruise on his cheek. To clean the dried blood around the stitch in his right eyebrow, but you keep your hands to yourself following the strict “no touching” rule.
He only shrugged. Clearly uncaring of whatever happened, but there was also a dimness to his spirit.
Since your first meeting, you could tell there was something hidden behind the walls he’d built. Sense a complicated past before he felt comfortable enough to tell you some of what he’d gone through. However this was different. Past the point of reverting back to the old Ari that was known as a troubled, aloof hermit, it’s almost as if this was a completely different man.
“I uh wanted to bring you cookies, but the officer said no,” you started again, trying to change the subject since Ari wouldn’t tell you what happened. “Something about possible contraband smuggling? As if I could sneak something in a small cookie. Plus it’s me of all people! Where would I even get-,”
“Don’t come back here,” he finally spoke in that gruff voice. It takes you back at first, lightly chuckling to yourself thinking he was joking. His serious eyes - somewhat dark and with new adjoining bags from his lack of sleep - tell you otherwise quickly causing a furrow to your brows.
“Wha-What do you mean-?”
“You don’t need to be waiting for me. Just…leave.”
“B-But I love you Ari.”
He shakes his head before standing to his feet. “We’re done,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the metal door. Whoever was in charge apparently heard him from the pad shining green to grant him entrance back to the waiting hall where another officer met him to reapply his cuffs and escort him to his cell.
All the while ignoring your cries of his name and how you pleaded for him to talk to you.
But later that night, staring at the discolored white ceiling as he lied in his top bunk on an uncomfortable, lumpy mattress, it’s all he could hear. Those same tears that ran down your cheeks now silently running down his.
“Fuck,” he silently curses to himself while his fingers pass through his almond strands as he turns away - now hyper aware of how strange he probably looked to your neighbors just standing in your yard. He should’ve just gone to the halfway house he’d been recommended from the transfer counselor.
Try to stay far from you and this part of town for that matter.
He was slowly realizing though, that the heart he thought was closed off desperately craved attention only you could give. Only wanted your warm touch and smile that soothed a childhood ache he’d long suppressed.
Just as he moves to descend your stone path, the front door creaks open to staccato taps on your wooden porch. There’s a continuous clink of metal followed by excited barks as the black dachshund runs down the steps and around Ari’s feet.
“Barry! You can’t run-”
Beautiful as a painting in a museum, there you stood in your cut off jean shorts and some older looking shirt. Your hair much shorter than the last time he saw you eight years ago, but the pixie cut only brought more attention to your gorgeous face and adorable cheeks.
Other than that, it’s as if you hadn’t aged a day.
“A-Ari?,” you stammer stepping further out onto your porch.
He has to clear his throat to get rid of the nerves blocking his words from escaping. “I…I’m sorry for just showin’ up like this. Would’ve called, but when they gave me my phone back it was dead.”
“So..you’re out?”
“Yea,” he softly smiles. You don’t return it though looking as if you’d seen a ghost while staying planted on the top step. Even Barry had returned back to your side, circling a couple times until he felt comfortable enough to lie down. “This was a mistake. Clearly she doesn’t want you here.”
“I’ll uh leave then,” Ari says nervously scratching the back of his neck after a long - and awkward enough - moment of silence between you two. “I didn’t mean to bother-”
Before he can finish, you’re running down the steps - not caring of the dirt and grass on your bare feet. He’s prepared for your deserved anger, whether that be yelling, shoves, or even punches. Instead, your fists clasp the front of his shirt as you pull him down to meet your lips.
After years apart his hands still automatically find their usual place on your body bringing you closer. Ari’s right on the side of your neck, tilting your chin however he needed to gain the access to your mouth he missed, while his left dragged from your hip to the middle of your back holding you to him.
Your moan hitting him in a deep, long ignored place that has him embarrassed like a teenage boy how fast his blood runs southward.
The need for air has you both begrudgingly parting, while your foreheads stay connected. “I’m sorry..for everything,” he whispers letting his thumb graze along your petal soft bottom lip. It’s as if he thinks you’ll break he’s so gentle - like it’s a fragile piece of artwork he dared touch.
"I didn't-"
"Shh," you reply leaning up to peck his lips once more. "Later."
-
Your lips barely separate journeying the short distance from your front door to your bedroom. Both of them red and swollen, yet neither of you attempt to stop as your back hits the light blue comforter - fluffy and soft as a cloud.
His hands grip your thighs curling along his sides, yet fail to move where you need them most making you whimper as his mouth slides to your neck. Taking matters into your own hands, you pull his shirt over his muscled back - silently giggling to yourself and filling with a sense of pride hearing his pleasured groan as your nails rake against his warm skin.
They’re set for his buckle next, but Ari’s quick to use his rougher and stronger ones to pin on either side of your head. “Ari please,” you whine eagerly trying to grind your hips so your soaking core can get some type of relief. You know he’s desperate for something too briefly nudging the tent formed in front of his pants.
“I know, I know.” He unsuccessfully tries to kiss the pout from your lips. “I..I wanna take my time tonight. It’s been eight years sweetheart.”
The deprived and needy part of you wants to counter, urging him for the opposite since it’s been so long. Instead, you nod letting him completely take control.
Slowly, he helps remove your clothes before open mouth kisses and taps of his tongue flow down from your neck and across your heaving chest to your stomach. You moan arching your back to lift your breasts closer to his face when he returns there taking his time attacking one nipple with his tongue while the other is groped and plucked in his free hand.
By the time he finally reaches your waiting and wet core, it only takes one lick and your sweet release is covering his beard.
“S-Sorry,” you stammer feeling your skin heat even more from shame not wanting that to happen so quickly.
“Sorry?,” he softly chuckles before leaving a kiss on your mound. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”
The sound nearly has you in tears knowing your Ari was back. The one you knew loved you just as much as you loved him.
Having had a taste after going so long without, he can’t wait for more switching between his skillful tongue and fingers until your juices flow again, His mouth attached to you; greedily slurping everything you could give him. Your fingers are seemingly locked in his hair as he rises enough to remove his pants. Grunting as he grabs the base - past the point of painfully hard - to direct himself inside you.
“Fuck,” he moans into your neck feeling you rapidly pulse around him. So warm and tight he has to restrain himself from taking you like a wild animal.
Not that you would mind.
“M’not gonna last baby.”
“Spose to happen,” you slur clutching around him urging him to move.
His hand tightly pinning your hip to the bed, his thrusts start slow yet hard before gaining speed the closer he feels. Simultaneously, your cries of his name get louder as well while his mouth and tongue move along your neck and earlobe.
“Shit, I feel you right there baby come on. Come with me.” You can’t comprehend anything with your brain in this foggy, love drunk state, yet somehow your body complies when his thumb finds your swollen and throbbing nub squirting against his skin and down to the sheets below. “Mm good girl.”
His final pumps have you filled until no more can stay. A small mix of both your releases leaking from your hole with every surge of his hips until he’s drained.
Exhausted, he carefully tries to pull out but your whines have him stopping. Softly smiling to himself while slowly lowering until he’s comfortably laying on top of you. “Calm down I’m here.”
Soon your even breaths fill his ears and he’s able to lie on his side - gently moving you with him- to completely take in the area surrounding him. His fingertips mindlessly tracing along your thigh as he reacquaints himself to your bedroom. It was fitting for you in every way, from the light yellow of the walls to the books lining the shelves he built for you long ago. Your few stuffed animals in a wicker basket in the corner as if they were prepared for bed themselves.
Ari notices one in particular - a white bunny with long ears and pink bows he bought you during a trip to the store one day - on your dresser next to a framed picture you must’ve secretly took. He appeared to be taking a break from something dressed in a gray tee, dark jeans, and work-boots with his utility belt on his hips. A bottle of water in his hand lifted to his lips as he looked off somewhere in the distance. Now that he thought about it, he was watching a bird peck the ground trying to find bugs or seeds to eat.
And he looked so peaceful. So calm for once in his tormented life. He had you to thank for that being kind and willing enough to share your light when he fought so hard against it.
In the bit of moonlight peeking through the blinds, he can make out ‘Home’ in the corner of the picture causing the slightest curl to his lips as he holds you closer.
“You kept putting up with me,” he quietly speaks pecking your temple. “So patient even after everything. Know I’m never leavin you again sweetheart. I’m home for good.”
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plutoispurplw · 3 months
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Looking At You Again
Summary: You met Spencer seven years ago and you met him again in the same place, maybe reconnecting can work
Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Smut, a little fluff I think,
A/N: Any problem with thw words is beacues it's 3AM, I wrote this inspired in I Bet You Think About Me at the beginning but now is completely different.
I changed the name because no one told me it was incorrect :(
➜Masterlistᝰ.ᐟ
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A couple of years ago you had met a tall young man on New York, you met him at a cafe, you forgot a gift bag on the cafe, when saw this he went out of the cafe and he gave it to you.
You told him to meet again and he said yes, days later you both met again in a park and talked for a while, that was one of the best conversation you ever had.
You never saw him again until almost seven years later, you didn't even had think about him for almost six years.
You were in the same coffee shop waiting to order while seeing the snow outside when you notice that the man infront of you look very familiar.
It took you almost five minutes to recognized him, when you did it, in a impulse you touched his shoulder to make him notice your presence.
He turned around and saw you, he instantly reminded you, your hair and your eyes were the thing that he most reminded of you, along with your personality.
"Hi, It's been almost a decade since we last seen each other." You gift him a smile while talking and he reciprocated gifting you an awkward smile, something that you well you remembered from your last talk.
"Yeah, I only visit when it's for work and I don't have free time when I'm here." His voice sounded tired, you chuckle at his words.
He looked different from what you remembered, his eye bags were more noticeable, his hair was more longer, but still made you feel butterflies in your stomach when he was seeing you.
"What happen to you in this years, you really changed a lot." You meant to said that in a good way but his expression told you otherwise when it changed.
"I didn't meant it in a bad way, sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Your voice was apologetic, you felt bad of made him remeber things that he probably didn't want to remember.
"Don't worry, It's fine, you didn't meant it a bad way, and yes, a lot of things had changed." He tried to make you feel better but it didn't work out.
"You think we can met in my apartment later if you have time? When you finish the case and all of that, I can make dinner." You really wanted to see him again before he went back to the state where he lived.
"Yes, If I have time I call you." You smiled at that sentence and give him a quick nod.
Days later, you were waiting by the phone like when you were in high school, making elaborate dinners in case that he called you, you were starting to think that maybe you didn't have luck at all and that you wouldn’t see him again.
That was until two days more you received a call at 11PM while you were watching a movie in your living room, you saw that it was him and you almost fell from your couch.
When you answer it a familiar voice received you. "Can I go to your apartment tonight, the case ended a couple of minutes ago." He sounded too serious, that was weird to you but you dismissed think it was just because of the case.
"Yeah, sure, but I don't have dinner so I will order take out food. I send you the address."
When the call ended, you sprinted to your bedroom and started to look for clothes in a frenzy.
You took a shower, you shaved your body, put on some cute white lingerie and comfy outfit that looked lovely to not seemed to desperate.
Almost an hour later you heard knocks on the door, you rushed to open it, he was there, but his expression was too different that the day from the cafe.
He looked angry, his eye bags more noticeable. "Sorry for being late, the food has already arrived?"
"No, I think it would take anothe thirty minutes, today is a busy day and with the snow more." You let him enter and you went to sit to the living room, he followed you.
You started the conversation, but it was like he wasn't listening to you.
"I'm not trying to be nosy but are you feeling fine?" You tried to not sound rude or anything, you were just worried about him.
"I'm just frustrated because of how the case ended, it's not your fault." He passed his hands by his hair, he really sounded like he was to a step of snapping.
"Can I help you with that? Only if you want." You immediately regret saying that thinking that you were too bold when you heard him answering.
"Yes, please." Hearing his voice in a begging tone made you wet in that instant with the arousal.
You quickly climbed onto his lap and started to kiss him, he reciprocated the kiss and started to dominate it, his hands on your waist gripping it firmly.
You felt when his hands went under your shirt and started to caress your stomach and the skin of your ribs, then they quickly came and grabbed your breasts over the fabric of your bra.
He got rid of your shirt and your bra in a question of seconds and started to massage them and suck them, making you throw your head backwards in pleasure.
"You look so beautiful like this, like an angel." He said against the skin of your neck before sucking your pulse point
One of his hands went down until it was inside of your lingerie. "Looks like someone was up for something from the beginning." You just moan in response at that.
The pace of his fingers inside you combined with his thumb rubbing close circles on your clit made you come in minutes making you bite his neck to prevent any sound getting out of your mouth.
You got rid from the rest of your clothes before you unzipped his pants and set free his erection, his hands found your hips and pulled you against him.
"Are you sure you want this?" He sounded worried about you but you gave him a nod, he didn't do anything yet so you just said it.
"I'm sure Spencer."
That was it, he got inside you slowly to get you used to the feeling of him being inside. "You felt so good love" He thrusted inside you to prove his words making you gasp.
His pace became more fast until the couch was scraping the floor from the intensity of the moments of both of you.
You were scratching his back. "You can come inside, I'm on birth control." He gave you a nod and continue, you were close to come and you knew that he was too.
That was when it finally snapped making you scream in pleasure, he throw his head back and let out a groan.
When both of you came down, you heard the sound of the ring on your door, he pull you to the side, and got up while ajusting his clothes and taking the food.
A good way to reconnect with someone.
Taglist: @bre99 @hiireadstuff @javierpenasredshirt @pleasantwitchgarden @iniyalovesall @caffine-queen @fab-notfat
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Dirty Work 37
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: wowee, it's snowing here a lot.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Loki… Mr. Laufeyson doesn’t linger. As you lay in a sheen of foggy afterglow, he dresses and mutters to himself. You want to ask him to stay. To tell him it’s okay but you’re scared he might say no. So you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him button his shirt.
“We both require a good night’s rest to contend with my family,” he says.
You nod and sit up, sliding your legs beneath the blankets. He looks up as you do and a line creases in his forehead. His worry makes you worry. You’re starting to get the feeling that something bad is looming.
“In the morning,” he avows before he turns away. “You will not emerge until I fetch you.”
“Yes, Loki,” you answer.
He stops at the doors and lowers his head, “here, behind these walls, I am Loki, beyond, Mr. Laufeyson. Understand, pet?”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur.
He pulls open the door and steps out swiftly. The mechanism clicks into place and you fall back onto the pillows. You deflate beneath the downy duvet and close your eyes. He confuses you. One moment, he’s all over you, all-consuming and insatiable, the next he’s distant and icy to the touch. 
You hug the top of the blanket and cling to his lingering warmth. Your thighs tingle and your core plucks as you clench, thinking of how his fingers delved deep into you. Why couldn’t he stay? You could have done more. You think you’re ready to.
It’s never what you want. You will await his signal and as always, you will take his lead. That is better. His words ring in your head from that fateful day, ‘obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for.’
What do you long for? That question follows you into your subconscious. You sink into the void, the knot of anxiety bound around your chest. Visions of rich greenery and fluttering petals fill your head, birds winging and critters chirping all around. The magical garden is a shrine of rosy sunlight.
Your mind builds a paradise and all at once, it falls around you. Your eyes roll open as you float back to the surface. Your lashes stick together as you blink and groan. It’s early, too early. Dawn paints a violet hue across the room. You lift your head and search around. Something must have woken you but there’s nothing but shadows.
You drop your head back down and groan. You turn onto your side and curl up, tucking a hand under the pillow. You squeeze your eyes shut, reaching for the last dregs of drowsiness. Your head swirls as you feel yourself descending again. 
You’re brought back again. This time, you catch the noise. Your ears prick and you lift yourself to look over at the door, a gentle scuffing on the other side.
What’s happening? 
You squint, your vision dulled in the lowlight. You sit up and push back the blankets as you sidle to the end of the bed. You see a black spot beneath the doors, darker than the rest of the slatted shadow. It moves. There’s someone out there.
The bed creaks as you bend your legs over the edge. Who could it be? Mr. Laufeyson?
A tap on the wood makes you flinch. The handle wiggles but doesn’t press down. Your heart thumps in your chest. A whisper comes through, “pet…”
Your spine goes rigid. Pet? It must be Mr. Laufeyson, but why doesn’t he just let himself in? You don’t recall locking the door before you went to sleep. You get up and creep forward.
“Pet, let me in,” the whisper is sandy and low. Is it really him? Who else would it be?
You unzip your bag in the dark and pick out a nightgown from the bottom, jostling the rest of the clothes. You slip it over your head and rub your eyes. You shiver as the air is cooled in the darkness.
You near the door and grab the handle so it stills. There’s tension as you twist it. It releases and unlatches easily. The lock is not in place. You pull it open a crack and squeak at the large, looming silhouette on the other side.
“Ah, pet, you’re awake,” Thor rasps.
“What–” you gulp, “what are you doing?”
“You didn’t come say hello,” he drawls, “so, hello, pet.”
You blink at him and push on the door. He slaps his hand against it, the wood shaking between you. You know he’s much strong, you can’t close him out.
“What is the matter?”
“Nothing, I– I’m trying to sleep,” you eke out. If Laufeyson knew…
“You are funny, pet,” he chuckles.
“Please, go, I’ll see you in the morning–”
“But I am here now,” he jerks the door, just a little, just a statement: he can open it if he wants.
“Why?” 
“Why?” He huffs, “you haven’t very good manners, pet. My brother has trained you poorly–”
“Please leave me alone,” you beg, jittering. Just the mention of his brother has your heart in your throat. He said to avoid Thor but what do you do when he seeks you out.
‘To the right of your door…’ you pluck the words from your memory and shudder.
“I just want to talk,” he edges the door in another inch and you stumble back.
You spin and run to the wall, pounding on it with your fists. You must seem crazy but you don’t care. You hit it over and over, “Mr. Laufeyson! Mr. Laufeyson!”
You’re wrench back as a large hand frames the back of your neck. Thor turns you and claps his other hand over your mouth, hushing you. You whimper as you shrink in his shadow.
“What are you doing? I’ve only come to talk–”
You wriggle and put both your hands around his wrist. It’s so thick, neither hand can fit all the way around. You kick out as he keeps you pinned to the wall.
“Haven’t I been nice to you?” He growls, “so why do you treat me as a villain, little maid…” he leans in, “perhaps because your thoughts have corrupted me, hm? Naughty little maid.”
His voice lightens playfully as he tilts your head up. You squirm as your hand slides down his forearm. Your other swings out to hit his chest.
“What do you think I’d do? If I am so evil, what could I do?” He taunts as he pulls you from the wall. He drags you towards the bed, “what have you done, eh?” He says as he edges towards the bed, “you’ve already made a mess.”
He throws you back onto the rumpled duvet and you squeak. You push yourself up on your elbows and bring your heels onto the mattress. You push yourself back as he looms over you.
“Aren’t you supposed to take care of messes, little maid?” He bends and puts his hands on the bed, snarling through his teeth. He catches your ankle and pulls your leg straight, tugging you down to your back as you yipe. “Let’s make a mess–”
He grunts and suddenly staggers, releasing you as a dark blur crashes into him. He hits the night table and sends the lamp to the floor. He deflects Mr. Laufeyson as he charges again and they tangle each other up in their arms.
“You beast,” Laufeyson hisses, “get out!”
“Ah, brother, lovely to see you here,” Thor chuckles, “we were only just talking about you–”
“Shut up!” Laufeyson snaps, hooking his leg around his brothers. 
“Don’t be so… dramatic,” Thor heaves as they struggle, pulling back and forth as each tries to overturn the other, “I was only getting to know her–”
“Get out!” Laufeyson repeats, “or I will truly be dramatic. Let mother see the cretin you truly are–”
“Speak for yourself–”
“Get!” You throw out your foot and kick Thor’s shoulder, immediately regretting it as he barely reacts. You scurry back and hug your legs.
“Aye, little maid,” Thor sounds amused, “isn’t that cute?”
“Brother, I tell you one last time–”
Thor cracks his elbow into Laufeyson’s ribs. The slimmer man lets go with a wheeze but doesn’t falter long as he slides between the burly blond and the bed. He coughs out another warning, “go.”
“I’m going,” Thor says lightly, “you always were so serious, brother.”
He waves off Laufeyson and steps away, sending you a look through the rising dim. You cower and watch him stalk away. Mr. Laufeyson follows and swiftly shuts him out, turning the lock with a loud click.
You push yourself to the edge of the bed and lower yourself to the floor. You pick up the lamp and straighten the table. You flip the switch and the light radiates around you. You turn to Mr. Laufeyson as he holds his ribs and scowls, slumping back towards you.
“Are you alright?” You ask as you rush towards him, “Mr. Laufeyson…” you reach to touch him but think better of it, retracting your hands to fold your arms over your chest, “I… Thank you.”
He sniffs and sits on the side of the bed. He pushes back his dark hair and winces. You hover before him nervously, shaking like a hummingbird.
“You did well… calling for me,” he says quietly, “that was very good, pet.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I thought it was you knocking. I didn’t mean to–”
“I said, you did well,” he interjects as he outstretches his arms, beckoning you closer. He touches your upper arms and draws you straight, “are you alright?”
You quiver and nod, “I think…”
“Good, good,” He pulls you closer and leans forward to kiss your forehead, “I will sleep here then. Just until the morning comes.”
Mr. Laufeyson leaves as you dress for the day. He bids you to lock the door behind him. He’s been silent but not in his usual way. Pensive but not dour. You put on a poppy red blouse with a brown skirt. 
You ready out of habit, your mind still trapped in the night's events. First, Laufeyson and the wonderful way he made you feel. Then Thor and the horror he brought into your room. It almost feels like a bad dream.
You go to the door but don’t emerge. What if Thor is waiting? You shudder as you think of what he would’ve done if you hadn’t called for Mr. Laufeyson. If you hadn’t been heard.
The door shakes as a tap rattles you from your trance, “darling,” Frigga calls through, “are you awake?”
You inhale deeply, throat tight, and unlock the door. You pull it open and force a smile, “yes, I was just… about to come out.”
“Wonderful,” she trills, “we are having tea in the garden.”
“Oh?”
“Come,” she takes your hand, “after tea,” she drags you out as you pull the door closed with your other hand, “we will go into town and get a few things for the celebration. Flowers, as I said. And perhaps a new outfit.”
“Okay,” you agree meekly.
“Did you sleep well?” She asks as you get to the stairs, “you are quiet.”
“Fine,” you answer.
“Yes, I do find it difficult to sleep in new places,” she hums, “well, we only want you to feel at home so do let me know if I can do anything.”
You press your lips together and nod. Could you ask her to make Thor leave you alone? Or to make Mr. Laufeyson a little less stormy? No, but you suppose you could ask for some chamomile before bed.
She takes you through the grand foyer and into the next room, winding around to the elaborate dining room and the back entryway that opens onto an equally awe-inspiring veranda. The railings are wrapped in ivy and flowers, marble pots on plinths hold bunches of gardenia and the big square table at the center has four chairs on either side. Much too big for the meagre party at it.
As you approach, you see Mr. Laufeyson’s shoulders, straight and stiff as he grips the armrests. He glares across at Thor who smiles dopily at the sky. As you get closer, his eyes find you and you wilt down. Frigga draws you onward as Odin stands from the table to offer you the chair beside him.
“There she is,” he says, “come, sit.”
You obey, claiming the seat to his right as Frigga skirts around to take his right. Laufeyson sits along the side just to your own right and leans forward as you wiggle in the chair. He gives you a look and you bow your head slightly.
“What do you like? Milk? Sugar? Honey?” Odin offers as he pours a cup and places it on a saucer before you.
“Just milk,” you answer.
Thor puts his arm on the table as you feel him watching you. Laufeyson clears his throat but his brother doesn’t acknowledge him. You look down at the tea as it clouds with dairy.
“Isn’t this nice?” Thor booms, “I apologise, I was errant yesterday and hadn’t a moment to welcome you.”
You flinch and Laufeyson squeezes the armrest tighter, bristling visibly.
“Now,” Odin sits back, “boys, this is a special week for your mother. She’s working hard, you will not ruin this.”
“Wouldn’t dare think of it,” Thor puffs, “I was only being polite and welcoming the little maid.”
Little maid… the words make you recoil.
“Little maid?” Odin echoes, “don’t be so demeaning. She has a name or perhaps she should call you the big oaf.”
Thor tilts his head and snorts, peering between you and his father. “Forgive me, I thought that’s what she was.”
“Regardless, she is a person and a guest. You will remember your manners,” Odin reproaches.
“Yes, father,” Thor utters dryly and receives a sigh in return.
“Oh, let’s not spoil such a lovely day,” Frigga chimes, “isn’t it so nice to be all together ag–”
“Ugh, must the sun shine so goddamn bright,” the silty voice undergirds Frigga’s chirp. You look over as Hela struts in, a large pair of geometric sunglasses over her eyes, “remind me next time not to finish the bottle.”
“Hel,” Odin greets curtly as Frigga blinks in surprise.
“When did you arrive?” Frigga asks, “Hilde didn’t say.”
“I slept in my car,” Hela answers and struts to the table, sitting next to Laufeyson, “well, I woke up there, at least.”
“Oh my,” Frigga mutters.
“I got here early though,” Hela preens, “when’s that ever happened, mother? And all for Walpurgisnacht, though I guess Midsommar is some time off.”
“Yes, very timely,” Frigga agrees softly, “well, you can come along with us to town. You’ve always had a keen eye.”
“Oh, I may,” Hela smirks, “who is us?”
Frigga looks at you and you give a tiny wave. Hela grins and takes off her sunglasses, winking at you, “I almost didn’t notice the little mouse. Well, I think I shall join you.” She squints and shades her face before putting the glasses back in place, “tell me we have some breakfast wine.”
“Have some tea,” Odin insists, “and a bit of decency.”
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yasmimkilleruwu · 11 days
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Can pleeeeeeeeeeaase do some EJ headcanons? It's fine if you don't
Here are some more headcanons about Eyeless Jack :))
Eyeless Jack has lived in the mansion for a while, but was expelled from the mansion after killing a proxy.
Jack hates almost everyone who lives in the mansion, the only exceptions are Sally, Ben Drowned, Seed Eater, Nina the Killer, Clockwork and Lulu, he basically only lived in his room, he had counted on anyone, the only real friendship he It was with Seed Eater.
Some of the Creepypastas tried to be Jack's "friends", but they didn't want to be really friends of Jack, as they just wanted Jack's protection since he was one of the strongest and frightening Creepypastas of the mansion.
Jack doesn't like very hot places, he remembers that in the ritual the temperature was very, very hot, he felt as if his skin was burning, so he prefers to stay in cold places.
In addition to Jack eating the organs, he also eats the meat of his victims, Jack no longer feels a kind of normal hunger, the hunger he feels is horribly colossal, it seems that even if the ritual has not worked, something was still inside from Jack, something really bad.
Jack spends all day sleeping and only goes out to eat or do anything else at night, after the ritual Jack started to feel very sleepy, so much so that it was difficult for him to stay awake.
It took a long time for Jack to get used to his "new" body, he had gotten bigger, stronger, he couldn't see, his nose was much more sensitive, he had a syrup and claws now, it seemed like his body was more cold resistant except his nose that was still sensitive to cold, very sensitive.
Jack had a lot of bad experiences for not having eyes and especially for not being able to see, things like snow, dust and rain drops ended up falling inside their orbits, and every time that happened a lot, so Jack began to be even more careful.
Over time Jack ended up unlearning to speak, he was slowly losing his humanity and sanity, a long time ago he didn't talk to someone, and his throat hurt when he was talking, the only thing Jack did now was grunt like a one animal type.
Jack began to forget things about his past, began to have nightmares and hallucinations, his mental health was getting worse every day, Seed Eater tried to help, but Jack needs the help of another human.
Jack stole an iPod from one of his victims, he always listens to music when he is stressed or going through a bad time, what it was always.
Jack now "worked" for Zalgo, because Jack was housing in a territory of Zalgo, so for him to keep living there, he would have to do some tasks for Zalgo.
After a while Jack met Toby, and the two tried to kill herself several times, many times Jack really didn't like Toby, especially for Toby being a proxy, Jack hated everything with Slenderman.
One day Zalgo decided to make a peace treaty with Slenderman for reasons no one knows, and designated Jack to be Toby's partner, Jack obviously hated that, because now he would have to spend all his time with Toby.
Jack and Toby beat each other a lot, they fought and ignored themselves most of the time, Jack stopped beating Toby after he realized that he would have to take care of Toby's injuries anyway, so he continues to retrieve and hurt Toby I would only give him more work.
Jack was almost asphyxiated by Toby as he was sleeping, they had had a fight again and Toby tried to kill him "accidentally".
After a while Jack started to get along with Toby, and he started to open more to Toby and started talking to him more, leading them to become closer and closer, it helped Jack to return to speak right.
Jack was upset with Toby for days, because on a day she was snowing, Toby touched a snowball in the face of Eyeless Jack, which made a lot of snow get into his orbits, Toby apologized a lot and did several things to Eyeless Jack to forgive him.
After Jack began to develop romantic feelings for Toby, he began to do almost everything Toby sent without even questioning, and Jack followed Toby anywhere as well.
Jack has many scars, some are from the ritual and the others are of self-mutilation, he stopped injuring himself a while later, but the scars are very visible.
Jack likes to touch Toby's body, he likes to feel his scars and skin, and he likes to mark him, he finds Toby's blood delicious.
Eyeless Jack has a butcher shop on his cabin, he doesn't like to put humans there, but when he gets out of control he puts them there.
If Jack loses control and if he spends a long time without eating, he turns into a total creature, just like his canonical version, he totally loses his human thoughts, he will attack anything near him.
My version of Jack is Mexican, he came from Mexico for the United States, he knows how to speak English very well.
He also doesn't like most creepypastas, he hates mainly people like Jeff, because Jeff makes Jack remember the people who hurt him and killed in the ritual.
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m4k4yl4 · 10 months
Text
Coffee Boy
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Summary: When y/n ends up having to close the cafe for the night, what happens when her cafe crush ends up staying with her in the cafe til the snow calms down.
Content warning: None.
Masterlist
Posted: 12/01/2023
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He's always here, same time, same booth every day, yet the most y/n has talked to him was when he asks for an Americano at the cash register and the only thing she can say back is "that'll be $3.15, please move up." or "have a good day, sir!"
His name is Felix, and that's one thing she knows for sure she's the one that writes it on his cup every morning. She started to draw little things next to it. One day, a sun. The next day, a cat is anything she could think of on the top of her head. She enjoyed seeing the smile and nod he would give her after seeing the drawing.
Same routine of this for the past 4 weeks or at past that's how long she had been counting and she still couldn't find the courage to speak to him and whenever she thinks she finally has the chance and confident to do he's left. At the same time, as always gone to who knows back into the cold winter air with an even colder Americano in hand.
Today was like any other 9am y/n had already clocked in standing at the front finger tapping on the table as she looked back and forth from the clock to the front door of the cafe. 'He still hasn't come in yet, wondering what happened,' she thought.
Hours had passed, and he never showed up. 'Guess he's not showing today.' As she's wiping off the last tables, the last worker there withher runs up. "Hey y/n! Can you maybe do the closing shift for me? I have a date with my boyfriend tonight, and I can't miss the reservation."
Y/n blinks for a second, "I- I mean, I guess.." "Really?! Oh, thank you, babes! I own you a big one! Okay, bye!" Y/n stares a little confused at the interaction as her coworker runs off the door. "I guess I'm closing tonight.."
As the night goes on for longer, the snow picks up while y/n is busy making sure everything in the back is good and not put out of place until she hears loud bangs on the entrance of the cafe.
She quickly runs out the of the back, thinking someone was breaking in only to be met with the blonde boy she had been waiting for earlier. She quickly runs to the door, opening it to let him in.
A big gust of wind and snow blows in with him as she shuts the door again, feeling like she had just been stuffed into a freezer. "Jesus, it's freezing out there, I didn't notice it had snowed this much!"
"Yeah, they had been talking on the news about a blizzard coming through. I didn't think it would be this bad.." Felix said as he shook some of the snow off himself. "Oh! You must be freezing, I'll go get you something to warm up with. " He shakes his head, "No, no, you're fine. I'm fine, really!"
She looks at him for a second. "You sure? Your face looks all red. I can get you some hot chocolate, I haven't turned the machine yet." Felix touches his cold face. The red one of his face deepens in embarrassment. "Yeah.. I guess hot chocolate would help a bit. Thank you." She smiles. "No problem!"
As Felix sits down in the booth, he usually sits in y/n walks to the hot chocolate machine freaking out on the inside. 'This is the most I have ever talked to him. What the fuck-'
She comes back with two hot chocolates in hand, setting one in front of him as she sat down across the booth from him. "Didn't know you liked hot chocolate usually you get an Americano and those don't have that much sweetness to them"
He gives a small smirk, "You remembered my order?" She looks up from her drink, eye widen."uhm, I mean, it's just that you come here a lot and never have changed your order, so you know it just kinda stuck, I guess. Sorry if you think it's weird." Felix laughs, "No, it's cute, really. Also, I love those little drawings you put on the cup."
"Really?" She surprised, "Yeah, the little smiley sun was my favorite. Do you draw them on every cup?" She pauses for moments embarrassed to answer his questions, "Hm, no..just yours, really.."
He smiles at her, "Well, thank you for that. Helps me smile in the morning." She smiles back at him face brighter than ever at his compliments. They talk for who knows how long. Y/n looks out the window, seeing the wind and snow calming down.
"Oh, I think it's stopped snowing." Felix looks out the window before checking his phone, "I should probably get going while it's stopped. My roommate is probably wondering where I'm at." He puts on his jacket, y/n following his lead.
"Me too. It's way too late for me to be here. I was supposed to close a while ago." She picks up their empty hot chocolate cups bring them to the kitchen, til an idea came into her head.
"Felix!" She comes out of the kitchen a to go cup in hand, "Oh y/n! I was wondering where you had gone, but I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye first." She smiles at him, handing him the cup.
"It's still cold outside, and I didn't see you come in a car or anything, so take this to keep you warm on the home." Felix looks down at the cup wear the names are usually written instead a phone number, y/n phone number, written with the smiley sun he liked so much next to it.
Felix looks back up at a nervous y/n standing in front of him. "Thank you again, y/n. I'll be sure to repay you for this." She smiles at him, "I hope you keep that promise, Felix."
They both leave out together, waving goodbye as they walk opposite ways home, stupid smiles on their faces. As y/n enters her house, she feels the buzz from her phone looking at the notification, making her want to giggle like a little girl.
1 new message
1-×××-×××-××××: y/n? It's Felix! Was wondering if you wanted to go out this weekend. You know, as repayment<3
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A/N: YAYYY‼️ ANOTHER FIC‼️
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runningfrom2am · 8 months
Text
cold nights // part fifteen
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summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.1k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: another happy birthday post for @that-veela-girl bc i love her and thank you so so much for supporting me and reading my stuff and helping me with it too AH it just means so much to me!!
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
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You didn't talk about a single important thing in the hour that followed. You had changed into more comfortable day clothes, something Coryo instantly thought made you look more like yourself, and somehow made your way outside onto the back porch swing.
"Did you win your prize?" You ask, staring out over the meadow behind your home as you gently rock the bench back and forth with one foot on the ground.
"I did." He smiles, unable to take his eyes off of you. You catch him staring as you turn to look at him, an excited smile on your face.
"Did you really?" You grin, excitedly reaching out and placing your hands on his thigh, hoping that it wasn't a joke.
"I did, yeah." He confirms, chuckling. "Highbottom was very against it, but the odds weighed against him." Coryo shrugs.
"Oh, Coryo, that's wonderful. Congratulations." You pat his leg before removing your hands, retreating them to your own lap.
"I owe it all to you."
"Why is that, anyway?" You ask, eyes once again focussed on the wind forcing the grass this way and that. "I knew you needed people to like me, but you never told me why."
He lets out a breath while he delays his response. "Well... The task they gave us was to turn the tributes into something people could get attached to- something people wanted to watch." He explains. "You made it easy. I just needed to get people to see you for who you were. To see that you were worth watching. That you were special." He shrugs, looking down at his lap and picking at his nails. "It helped that Sejanus's family paid out the prize, I think." He chuckles.
"Ah." You nod, not wanting to think about it anymore but still glad you got answers. "Is he upset with me?"
"Sejanus?" Coryo asks and you hum. "No, not one bit." He promises.
"I-I mean..." You stammer, taking a deep breath. "About Marcus?"
"No." Coryo repeats, shaking his head. "He left before the games started, he didn't see what happened. I explained it to him before we even left the arena, though. He felt bad for even thinking for a moment you had done something wrong."
"You're sure?" You ask quietly, eyes brimming red as you look over at him. He nods. He wants to reach out and touch you, hold your hand, but he's unsure if that's even okay. Even after what happened the night before the games, now you were treating him very much as a friend. He didn't want to overwhelm you, so he would leave those questions for another day.
"Positive."
"You don't speak of your Dean favourably." You comment, wanting to change the subject. "Why? He was very good to me."
"You met him?"
"He saw me off at the train station." You nod. "Gave me some cash, promised me that compact would make it back to you."
"Oh..." He mumbles. "He just has some vendetta against me. I don't know why."
"I see." You nod. "That makes sense... He told me that I was lucky I survived you. It was odd."
Coryo chews the inside of his cheek, and it was his turn to look out over the scenery while you watched him. "He's always hated me. I've done nothing to him."
"I did not think you would." You defend quickly, the air becoming thick around you. You answered too promptly- he would know that you were afraid. Maybe think you were lying. Even as he sat next to you, smiling more than you had ever seen him do it before, you couldn't look at him the same.
Coryo can sense that you still don't want to talk about the games in any major capacity, and it was in his best interest to not bring up Bobbin, so he changes the subject. "Your cat is adorable, by the way." He can tell that makes you comfortable enough to relax again. He missed you looking at him.
"Isn't he?" You smile, shifting your gaze from him to the back door, hoping to catch a glimpse of your pet in the small window. "He's a sweetheart."
"I'm just glad he didn't attack me." Coryo jokes.
"What?" You laugh. "Why would he?"
"I don't know! I've never had a pet. They scare me a little."
"Oh, Coriolanus Snow is afraid of a cat?" You tease him. "I didn't know that about you."
"Y/N! Lucy Gray is here!" Your mother calls from inside the house and you're quickly distracted, clumsily standing up from the bench, leaving it swinging unsteadily underneath him.
"Coming!" You call out, grabbing his hand to pull him up with you. "You must meet her, she's my best friend. If you think I'm good company you'll see she's all the better."
"I've met her." He replies, allowing you to pull him up from the bench anyway.
"You have?" You ask, brow furrowed.
"Yeah, she helped Sejanus and I find you."
"Sejanus is here?" You smile wide and he nods, a little confused.
"Yeah, he came with-" He doesn't even finish his sentence before you're moving quickly into the house and to the living room where your mother had let them in, leaving the door swinging open behind you.
"Sejanus!" You call out as you see him, almost tackling him in a hug- armed with the confidence in Coryo's honesty that he didn't hate you.
He laughs, catching you in his arms. "Y/N, it's so good to see you..."
Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek as he follows you in. He wasn't met with a hug, or near the same amount of excitement. Maybe he underestimated how close you and Sejanus had become while he was stuck in the hospital ward after the bombing.
He can see the three, evenly distributed scars on the back of your leg. Healing, but still bruised all this time later. He wonders if it still hurts.
"How I have missed you- how are you doing?" You grin, pulling away from the hug and running your hands up and down Sejanus's arms.
"I'm pretty good! I've always wanted to see Twelve, so now I finally had a good excuse." He jokes, looking down at you. "How are you, though? That's much more important."
Coryo takes a moment to notice Lucy Gray staring at him. "I take it your hello didn't look like that?" She whispers, forcing him to relax his facial expression to hide any disdain.
"It did." He lies.
"Oh! My mistake then." She replies, clearly not buying it.
He thought you were treating him like a friend, but if this is how you treated friends, he obviously did not meet the mark.
"We found you guys a place to stay." Lucy Gray continues, watching you and Sejanus chat.
"Thank you." Coryo nods at her, but he's still watching you, eyes taking up and down your body, your hair, your skin- but always finding a home on your injured calf.
"Yeah, of course." She hums, arms crossed over her chest. "She'll come around, you know."
You turn, finally ready to greet Lucy Gray. "I'm sorry, I didn't even say hello to you." You giggle, giving her a gentle, less urgent hug.
"That's quite alright, Y/N/N. You see me every day." She laughs, gently rubbing your back.
"And it still doesn't feel like enough." You respond.
"I agree." She hums, pulling away and holding onto your shoulders as you smile at her. Lucy Gray is the only one who knows what you're going through, the only one besides Lennox who knows what your nightmares are like, to have you cry with your head in her lap in her backyard or even at the lake where you used to share the best days of your lives. You felt like you ruined it all, but you felt seen with her. Always.
"Lucy Gray found us a place to stay for the month." Sejanus tells his friend.
"I heard." He mumbles, fighting back the green monster bellowing behind his eyes.
"Yes! Right, I'll get you guys there and settled. I'm sure Y/N is just dying for her afternoon nap." Lucy Gray says, gently squeezing your shoulders. You nod. Even though your visit with Coryo was pleasant, it still placed a weight just behind your ribs you couldn't describe. You needed a break, and your best friend could see it.
"Yes, well, can't get enough of my bed these days..." You joke, but it doesn't come out as lighthearted as you intended, all context considered. You clear your throat. "We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep."
"Certainly." Lucy Gray smiles, pulling you into a quick side hug.
Coryo watches, avoiding reacting to what he saw happening in front of him. With your mother, and now with Lucy Gray. No one here, apparently, just hums in confusion or looks at you funny when you say something that hardly makes sense. They know you. They understand every word; or at least they pretend they do. They answer accordingly, like it was just a normal bit of conversation. There was no one else quite like you, and he was lucky to get to hear it. He knew that, but they knew it first. By the time the games had started, by the time you won and left, Coriolanus had started picking up the habit as well. You weren't entertainment, leaving something to question after every conversation, it was you. All you. And he loved you for it.
"How long will you be here?" You ask, returning your attention to him now. Finally.
"A month." Coryo answers promptly, smiling at you. At first, he thought a month was a long time until the next train left, but now, it didn't feel like nearly enough.
"Wonderful!" You smile, clapping excitedly. "So I will most definitely see you again."
"It's you I'm here to see." He grins, a pink flush spreading on his cheeks.
It matches yours almost perfectly. "Good." You nod. "I'm glad." You almost choke over the words and hope he doesn't notice.
"That reminds me! Lucy Gray's show tonight, are you going?" Sejanus asks you and you glance nervously over at her. It seems to Coryo that his friend was too eager to engulf himself in local culture, when they were supposed to be there to see you.
"Oh, you guys are certainly welcome but..." She looks back at you as she speaks, silently communicating with you on the best way to say this. You just nod. You trust her to speak for you. "Y/N typically doesn't come. It's nothin' new to her, any of my music she wants to hear I can sing for her anytime." She smiles.
"Coryo?" Sejanus asks him now, and he looks at you the same way you looked at Lucy Gray.
You sense his hesitation. Clearly, he will only go if you do. "You know what? I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. I'll come."
Lucy Gray looks surprised, but very pleased. "You will?"
"Sure, why not." She knows why not, but she won't dig any deeper into it in front of the boys.
"Alrighty then! We better get going, I've left rehearsals for long enough. The Covey is probably out searchin' by now." Lucy Gray says, waving the boys to pass her to get to the door.
"Are you sure?" She whispers to you once they cannot hear. "Don't feel pressured."
"I want to spend time with them." You whisper back. "I'll be fine."
She nods, a look of worry in her eyes as she hugs you again.
"Coryo?" You call as you pull away, walking past her to get to the front entrance of your small home.
His head whips up at your voice calling his name, looking at you expectantly. "Will you..." You start, and Coryo watches closely as you begin wringing your hands together in front of yourself.
Yes. Whatever you need, yes.
"If it's not too much trouble, can you come get me before you go? I don't like to walk at night..."
"Of course." He answers without hesitation. "I'll be back later, then."
"Thank you." You smile, cheeks red from the embarrassing question. "I'll see you guys tonight."
You had your so desired afternoon nap after that. Your mom came and laid in bed with you, gushing over how Coriolanus was such a good guest. A kind soul, she said. She could see it in his eyes, apparently, and hear it in the way he spoke about you. You wanted to believe her, but you really weren't sure.
You couldn't help but see him differently after he killed Bobbin. It wasn't necessarily that he killed him, it was the overkill that really haunted you. That last swing after the threat was so clearly subdued. He didn't look like himself anymore. It kept you up at night- and when it didn't, it was a frequent event in your nightmares.
You woke with a jolt from your nap, picturing your mentor standing over you with his blond curls falling over his eyes. You had a hand out to try protect yourself as you slid back across the cold, cemented ground of the arena. This was a common nightmare you had since you returned.
So when you got home from work only to see him standing in your living room, with your mother who knew nothing but the good things about him, you could have cried. Screamed. You thought for a moment that maybe you were sleeping and the dreams had adapted into something worse, but no. He was there. And he was kind, and so happy to see you that the boy you spent most nights remembering seemed incredibly unlikely to exist. When you looked into his eyes, as he silently begged you not to run, he was just Coryo.
Quick footsteps in the hallway turn your attention to the door. "You alright?" Your brother asks, hand braced on the frame to stop himself as if he had been moving too quickly to do it on his own.
"I'm fine." You nod, taking a deep breath and swallowing back your fear again.
Worried, Lennox looks back down the hall before coming into your room, closing the door behind himself. You move over in your shared bed, giving him his spot back as he slides in next to you.
"Nightmare?" He asks quietly, laying on his side to face you.
You just nod.
"Was it... about him?"
You want to lie. Tell him that no, it was just the games in general, but you knew he wouldn't buy it. Not after answering the door to see the boy whose name you mumbled in your sleep, begging for mercy standing in front of him.
That was the reason you had to tell your brother in the first place.
"No, I- Coryo, please..." Your brother hears you shifting under the blanket next to him, watching as Tybalt's ears perk up from your feet. "Please... Don't!"
"Y/N?" He mumbles, rolling over. "You okay?"
Then he realizes as he sees your eyes scrunched shut that you're still asleep. Nightmares he had dealt with for almost a week now, but tonight was the first night your mother didn't insist on sleeping in the room with you, leaving him on the floor while she took his spot. He had a suspicion that your dad was doing the same, just outside the door. But this was the first time you spoke.
"Y/N." He sits up, grabbing your shoulder to try and shake you awake. "Wake up. It's just a nightmare."
You sit up so fast it makes him jump back, the scream that fell from your lips made his heart race even faster. "Y/N?" He asks, quickly crawling back into the bed and trying to touch you, help you, but you're pushing yourself back against the wall, grasping at the sheets as you looked around. It takes you a moment to realize where you are- home. Safe.
Your brother turns his head as your parents come rushing in to comfort you. He doesn't say anything about you talking until you finally settle them enough with your calming smile, assuring them that you're fine and they should go back to bed. That they needed their sleep, while your own cheeks were still red and stained with tears.
He doesn't say a word until he's sure he's heard them go back to bed, staring at you as you lay back down under your quilt and your chest is still rising and falling so fast he's wondering how you're even getting any oxygen to your blood.
"You were talking to him." Lennox whispers, and you just turn your head to look at him.
"I'm sorry." You whisper, voice still hoarse from the scream.
"What did he do to you?" By now, Coriolanus Snow or "Coryo", was a common name in your household. You only spoke of him favourably this last week you'd been home and even before that. That he helped you, saved you.
"Nothing, bud. It was just a dream." Now you're hushing him, reaching over and pulling the blanket up over his shoulder.
You can tell your brother doesn't believe you, but he doesn't know how to ask. What to ask, how to go about it without setting you off or hearing an answer that makes his blood boil so intensely that he jumps on the next Capitol bound freight train to do something you would never forgive him for.
"He didn't hurt me. I promise." You whisper again, sensing his fear. "I just..." You cut yourself off with a sigh. "Can you keep a secret?"
"You know I can." He promises.
You nod, small smile falling on your lips that's illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the window. "Do you remember that boy from District Eight? Bobbin?" You whisper and he nods, hanging on every word.
"I watched Coriolanus kill him." You continue, assessing his reaction; confusion and shock settling in all at once. "And it was... Scary. He was already dead, but he hit him again and the look in his eyes I-..." You slightly shake your head. "It wasn't him. That was the last time I saw him. Coryo, I mean."
"How'd he get in?" Your brother whispers. "What was he doing?" It's all he could think to ask. Maybe he had gone to try and save you- to break you out. If you had told him that an hour ago, he would have believed it based on how you spoke about him.
"Sejanus, my other friend, snuck in. He brought bread to scatter over his tribute, and Coryo had to get him out safe." You explain. "He did, but not until after..." You sniff, wiping your eyes with the sheet.
"It's like you didn't know him." Your brother says, fully understanding.
"Yeah." You reply quietly. Lennox had always understood you. "I don't know if he was ever really my friend. If he's not the person I thought he was."
"I'm sorry." Your brother settles on.
"Nature teaches beasts to know their friends."
"You are not a beast." He whispers, brow furrowed.
You smile sadly at him. "You should get back to sleep."
"Yeah." You whisper, looking away and out the window at the sun beginning to set. Coryo would be here soon, and suddenly you were regretting agreeing to go out at all. "It was about him."
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cripplecharacters · 6 months
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Hi! I am working on a story where one of the three protagonist has a burn scar. This character has from the eye to half their right cheek of a burn; this happened around 9 years ago (the character was 10.)
I am working on historical-fantasy setting, I know you guys are not historians but I was hoping you could help me out with ideas.
In my story, there is a few chapters where the characters go to a snowy mountain for a couple of days, and there are temperatures ranging from 20ºF to 10ºF with snow and harsh wind, is there any protection/possible cream needed for the face and the eye for that situation?
Also, around 10% of the story has fights that include armour (including a helmet to protect the face and the head,) would a character with that type of burn may need a special helmet?
Just to clarify, the character for most of the story doesn't have any mask or anything covering their face, except in the moments of battle where every other character is also using a helmet and armour.
Not sure if there is anything potentially problematic in this, but the character got that injury due to a baby dragon of the family accidentally burning his face (this is a society where dragons are like animals and common in the house.) Because it happened so many years ago there isn't any angst feeling or people in his community commenting about, except in a scene where the protagonists are talking about traumatic things and this character mentioned that they remember when it happened his parents were afraid he was not going to make it, not realizing he was hearing it.
There are other background characters with burns, scars and stumps due to the nature of this world, but I am concentrating in this protagonist right now.
Hi!
For weather this cold, your character would need a LOT of moisturizing creams. Possibly a comical amount. They would help to protect the skin from both the wind and cold. Burn scars don't have the natural oils, so his skin would be very dry normally, let alone during the winter. Even in normal temperatures, it's recommended to apply moisture multiple times a day. If something like sunscreen is available to your character, he would use it too (and often). Burns are sensitive to the sun, and some people use it even when it's cloudy. During the winter it's also commonly used because the snow reflects it. (As you said, I'm very much not a historian and I don't know what would work as non-modern equivalents... I assume that shea butter or olive oils could be on the table here? Certainly better than nothing. Or even just Magical Herb Mixture, if it's fantasy.)
As for the eye protection, I would say that most people in 20ºF to 10ºF (-6ºC to -12ºC) would need it, especially if it's both snowing and windy lol. I have experienced those temperatures and it can be hard to see even without extremely sensitive skin/eyes. But generally yes, harsh wind could be actively painful to someone with a burn scar. If it's too hard on him, he could wear some very loose cloth to cover it (prime example of a scenario where a face covering makes medical and just logical sense). It shouldn't be tight; maybe just a large hood or veil that would still be away from that part of their face.
Note: it could also not be painful at all. Burns come with nerve damage, and sometimes nerves make non-painful stimuli hurt really bad, and sometimes they make it so a person doesn't feel pain when they should. If your character is the second, they would bear it better at the time but still have all the other issues - skin breakdown, contraction, cracking, itching.
Not sure what other kind of eye protection would be available, but even regular glasses would help with the "not getting blasted with wind and snow" part. Make sure that with the protection he wears, it doesn't touch the scar directly. That can be extremely painful and cause skin to break in that kind of environment, especially if he's not a regular at the Snowy Mountain. If they are, they will handle it much better - scars get more or less desensitized with repetitive exposure.
For a helmet, I think having it padded from the inside would be a good idea. Preferably with something relatively smooth (maybe cloth or fur?) so that it doesn't scratch the burn. Potentially something to "stabilize" it (maybe their helmet could be custom-made for their exact head size?) so that it doesn't hit his scar over and over too if it's too large. I appreciate that others characters wear helmets too, and that he does for only a minor part of the story :-) (smile emoji))
The backstory scenario sounds fine to me as well! House pet trying to play and causing an injury is definitely a thing when it comes to facial differences haha. I can imagine that it would be even more common if the pet in question is a dragon and not a regular dog.
Having multiple burn survivors in a world with fire-breathing creatures that live in human homes is a nice element of worldbuilding :) (smile emoji)! I think that if this kind of thing happens often, then some of the resources I mentioned (moisturizes, sunblock) would be more readily available for your main character and people in similar sets of circumstances.
Thank you for your ask, I hope it helped a bit!
Mod Sasza
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empressofthesunwriter · 5 months
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Change the Narrative
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If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.
But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!
This time she would always choose herself first!
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Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.
I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!
Katara knew it was time for her to die.
She felt it in her old bones.
Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.
At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.
It was a good death.
The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.
She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.
It was good.
She had lived a long happy life.
Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.
Was it a happy life?
How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?
How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.
But no!
The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.
Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.
Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?
However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.
He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.
They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.
And she did so to her children.
No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.
Where did she go wrong in her life?
When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?
Why did she even choose Aang?
Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?
He loved her and had ended the war.
Was it so bad to give him a chance?
Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.
Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?
She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.
Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.
She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.
Soon she would join her loved ones...
Just...
If she could...
If the spirits were so kind...
If dear Yue heard her...
She wanted a second chance.
She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.
Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?
Was she selfish?
Maybe.
Surely.
But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.
Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.
Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.
Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...
***
She felt pain in her head.
Katara hissed and touched her forehead.
Why did she get a headache?
Where was she?
She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.
Slowly she could see.
Ah yes.
She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.
The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.
It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.
She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?
He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.
As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.
Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.
It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!
No, she didn't want what she had seen.
How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!
How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!
No, absolutely not!
Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!
So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.
The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.
For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.
Oh no!
Not with her!
"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"
To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.
"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"
Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.
The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.
She sends them all an annoyed look.
"What?!"
No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."
This makes Katara smile.
***
The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home. 
The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.
As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.
She was a force of nature!
No one had a chance against her.
Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.
Yes, this was where she belonged.
Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!
Katara was happy.
A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.
***
A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.
She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.
He had become her best friend.
And her wall against Aang.
As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.
She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.
Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.
When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.
Awkwardly he waved it away.
It was nothing.
He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.
Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.
In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.
If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?
A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.
Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.
***
Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.
They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.
It changed a lot of interactions.
They were playful with each other.
Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.
They were there for each other.
In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.
They shared the workload.
It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.
They were getting closer to each other.
They shared things they never told anyone.
Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.
Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!
Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.
Something new was born between them.
Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.
It made her feel good.
After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.
And also a society of hiding airbenders.
Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.
***
Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?
When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home. 
Warm, welcome, familair, intim.
It was the best sensation in the world.
Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.
After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.
All their friends and half of the world were invited.
Yes, even Aang.
Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.
Now they really could be friends.
***
Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.
Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.
She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.
She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.
She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.
Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.
Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.
When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.
They often had visits from their friends and families.
Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.
So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.
It was fulfilling.
As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.
Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.
After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.
Zuko died a few months before her.
Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.
Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.
As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.
She had lived a long and wonderful life.
Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.
And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.
***
The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.
From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.
It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.
They could reach their goals and go even beyond.
This was Katara's legacy.
As it should have been.
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If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang! 
Click on my profile and leave a comment.
I hope you liked this little One-Shot!
Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D
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chocourse · 25 days
Text
𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 (𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜)
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➶ poly! ineffable husbands x angel! fem!reader 。˚ °
-ˏ` ✎﹏ The Egyptians built one of the seven wonders of the world, the Greeks discovered philosophy, but make-up was invented by a desperate angel during the construction of the Tower of Babel, when people spoke the same language and wanted to settle in a city after the great flood. That angel was you. And you really needed the make-up when the first bite happened.
➴ genre: fluff, polyamory, falling in love
: ̗̀➛ warnings: references to christian religion & lore, fashion and make-up lore, love bites/hickeys, mentions of snake poison, corruption i think
⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .
⁀➷ special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.
⁀➷ a/n: Hi, dears! I am happy that I took the time to publish this story here after Ao3. I wrote it in January when I watched Good Omens and was looking for comfort after bawling my eyes out. Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Go and enjoy your unique history with the ineffable husbands! <3
➳ good omens masterlist
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A FAIRLY LONG TIME AGO
As much as possible, you wanted to blend in with the people. You were too attracted by their nature to spend the rest of your time until Armageddon up there, among snow-white washed columns, in empty halls where nothing really interesting happens. You can deliver the reports even if you’re living on Earth and watching the humans work, you reassured yourself.
You've enjoyed watching the mortals ant-like, feverishly at work, creating wonders like the Tower of Babel.
“Upon my word, what a masterly job,” said Aziraphale, when the tower was already very high.
Aziraphale agreed with you about your intentions on earth, and you used to talk about the exciting things people can do and how exciting it will be to learn about their work and future generations.
When you were particularly engrossed in reciting your predictions, and explaining them to each other with sparkling eyes, Crowley would just roll his eyes and do it with relish, as if it was his natural reaction to your enthusiasm. He decided he'd rather be with the two of you instead of in the company of damned souls and stake-ridden demons when there was no one to tempt and lead into sin. It wasn't boring at all, especially with the fairs they held back then, the intoxicating people, the musical instruments, the delicious food. 
His favorite events were the celebrations. When the men working on the tower would take a break from work and gather in town to drink and sing. They fanned his fire, his desire to do something underhanded. Not evil, just something genuinely bad. Like what he did to the apples and Eve at the tree.
He thought deeply about the ways in which he could make others sin. That's when he heard you laugh. You were amazed at what Aziraphale had said. You sipped flushedly into your alcohol jar. You weren't wearing your halo or spreading your wings, but you looked just like an angel. Beautiful, ethereal, uncorrupted, even when you were indulging in human pleasures and getting drunk at an easy pace.
Bingo.
Crowley smiled, his eyes gleaming under his black sunglasses. He headed towards you.
“Did you try everything?” he asked.
“The dates are heavenly ,” Aziraphale agreed, putting another piece in his mouth. “You must try one, Crowley.”
“I will,” the demon promised. “Later. But first, I'm going to taste something that's inviting to my imagination…”
His fingers brushed over your shoulder. His fingertips touched your sensitive skin, then...
“Ow !" you squeaked in surprise as he sank his canines into the exposed skin of your neck. 
When an angel wants to fit in with humans, she can't walk around with a snake-bitten neck like she's fine. So you tried to use a miracle to make it disappear, but as it turns out, miracles don't work on demonic bites, which is kind of unfair, but part of the Incomprehensible Plan, so you had to resort to some other method, without blaming the Almighty for creating the demon bite the way it is.
You used paint to cover it up. It was the first make-up experiment in history. Cleopatra will use your method in dark red, but it will be a long time before then, your injury will heal and heal many times over.
In any case, Crowley grinned as he watched you walk around for weeks, neck covered in paint. He was very pleased with himself, and you often caught him looking at you with his yellow snake eyes, grinning like he was planning to do it again.
When God confused the tongues of men, you were grateful to Him. 
Now, you could send the demon to Hell in countless languages.
IN THE 16TH CENTURY
Garbo.
Garbos everywhere.
Lace, frills, colours, fancy fabrics. You were very fond of the English Renaissance under Queen Elizabeth I. Mainly because of the full turtlenecks, which usually covered your neck magnificently. You could even forgive the low-cut dresses and corsets - although when silk scarves came along, looking back, the wide turtlenecks you once wore would have looked like clown costumes.
It was further satisfying to know that Crowley hated rules by default, let alone about fashion. He really despised the Sumptuary Laws, and cursed that he hadn't invented them, because they were truly demonic. In contrast, Aziraphale, who always put a lot of effort into his appearance, was fine with the expected attire, and always looked elegant with a pleasant smile. 
Sometimes, though, his smile faltered when his turtleneck grazed the bite marks on his neck. You stroked his upper arm sympathetically at such times, and yet: neither of you told Crowley to stop what he was doing on your necks.
You had no problem with early medieval times. The tight, plain dresses were simple and, importantly, the neck was not visible, only the back of the hands and the face, and after marriage, the hair - not that you married, it was just the fashion among married women. On the other hand, the pale ideal of the early Middle Ages, when women had blood drained to make them white as doves, was disappointing. Then came arsenical powders, the cause of many women's deaths. At the time, you were ashamed of inventing make-up, and so women wanted to tamper with their natural beauty with all sorts of talc fads. You have to suffer to be beautiful, they said, and they didn't realize that there was no need for any suffering because they were beautiful from creation.
Your determination was only further strengthened when it was discovered that Elizabeth I died of blood poisoning from using white lead on her face. And you thought the sixteenth century would bring radical changes…
Actually, there has been a radical change, but not in make-up.
Crowley invented the suction mark, which didn't swell up like a snake venom-infused wound and came in a variety of colours depending on how much time Crowley put into creating them. They made him feel like an artist, so he liked to tinker with them. He'd been paying devoted attention to your necks for a very long time, so you're actually used to it, it's become a tradition. 
In fact, you both kind of loved it.
IN THE 19TH CENTURY
The rice powder is made from natural ingredients. We're finally back here, you peacefully acknowledged at every social gathering. Usually you only powdered the back of your neck, but richly. The fashions of the 1800s called for ruffles, corsets, a relatively modest neckline, no turtlenecks or neck-covering. But a thorough, ornate make-up look was something every self-respecting woman had to create, and because you only covered your neck, you were often the victim of gossip.
When Aziraphale opened his bookshop and held a small gathering to celebrate with champagne, snacks and a ball, the ladies whispered a great deal about you, hiding behind their fans. They sized up your clothes, your make-up, yourself. They guessed how much of a goer you must be. It made them angry that even though you don't wear normal makeup, men still seek your company because you're witty and good, not jealous like them.
Crowley was annoyed by the women who belittled you, the men who complimented you, the fact that you had been hiding the fact that you were his for centuries. Just like Aziraphale, only he didn't seem as desperate as you to cover his marks. Although his top hat usually shaded them well, where it was appropriate to remove the headgear, nothing covered them.
Aziraphale looked at Crowley more and more often as if he knew perfectly well what the marks meant, just as he knew that Crowley was a cruel, unrelenting demon and would not say it.
When Crowley asked you to stop covering your neck, he was actually saying it. With his eyes shining mysteriously in the moonlight through the window, when Crowley took off his glasses and all the guests had gone, leaving only the three of you and the empty glasses and the crumbs. 
Tenderness and love. This is what his words would have tasted like if you had eaten them.
It was the same way Aziraphale looked at you when you caught him gazing at you, silent and dreamy, or when you simply spoke to him enthusiastically about something that interested and excited you as people once did when the Tower of Babel was raised, and he listened patiently, as if he had nothing better to do.
When you said all right to Crowley with a smile, that meant you loved him, too. 
Them, too.
NOWADAYS
“Um, are you–” Gabriel furrows his eyebrows and tries to decipher you with a polite smile. “What is this?”
You're wearing the purest white, as befits a visit to Heaven. Obviously Gabriel would not object to that. He wears mostly white, with a faint hint of blue. What he can't make out is the fluffy white scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, right up to your nose. You stand before him like a polar bear with a neck brace. Or an almost completely covered, ethereal mummy. 
Or maybe a spool of toilet paper. 
You pull the material slightly in front of your mouth to answer. 
“I'm cold,” you report with a blush.
“It must be exciting.” Gabriel admits that you've probably spent too much time on Earth, among humans, and its somewhat dulled your angelic senses. He clears his throat. “Well, we can get down to business then, let's not waste each other's precious time.”
You nod. He is absolutely right.
In the empty, snow-white-plastered heavenly hall, a table, a folder and a pen with wings - not a bijou, strictly used for official signatures - appear. Sighing, you take a comfortable seat, and as you take the pen, you give thanks that now women can wear comfortable and practical pants too. 
And, you add with even deeper satisfaction, great scarves.
...
Ignoring the closed sign, you rip open the door and burst into the bookshop.
“Sorry, but we’re closed– Oh, it's you.” Aziraphale smiles a greeting, then notices the upset on your face. “What happened, darling?”
“It was embarrassing to show myself like this in front of Gabriel,” you reply as you begin to unravel the fuzzy covering around your neck.
Aziraphale pats your upper arm piteously, presses a kiss to your temple and promises to bring you a mug of hot chocolate to help you relax.
Long time ago you promised Crowley you wouldn't cover his marks, but when you meet your angelic bosses, it's a different story. If they find out what's between you and him, they'll make hell in heaven. That doesn't impress Crowley, especially not today. Before you left, he had so covered your neck with his special love marks that a simple scarf wouldn't have been enough to cover it. Especially since he's recently returned to biting.
You'll find him on the sofa at the back of the shop. He's got a real proud smile that makes you want to throw a scarf at him. You throw the scarf at him. He catches it easily.
"You little..." you grit your teeth.
“Idiot? Shit? Asshole? The lowest of demons? Bitter of your eternal life?” He's playing with the scarf. He doesn't look up, doesn't admire the colorful patchwork he's created on your neck. Even better. If he would do it, throwing a scarf at him would not be enough.
"Lovely sweet creature," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Bleh.” Crowley scowls. “That's a thousand times worse than you swearing.”
“I know. That's why I do it.” You sit down in the armchair furthest away from him and continue to stare at him harshly.
He sighs.
“My love, you're too beautiful with my marks on your neck. I cannot help it. And every man should know those are mine. Even the angels up there.”
Except Aziraphale. He already knows full well that if the blobs on your skin were to be exhibited as paintings, the artist's name would clearly be Crowley.
And you know what these marks are called these days, and that makes you happy. You ask, a little more lightly, if he knows. Crowley shakes his head.
“Love bites,” you tell him.
“It's only natural that they call it that. I invented it, and for thousands of years you and Aziraphale have been the only ones to get it. What else could it be?” Crowley gets up, comes over to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He’s not wearing his sunglasses. His eyes are vivid, the sky glowing yellow behind the black sliver of the moon. "It's not something I give as punishment or temptation. It is exactly what it is called. Humans are smart enough to give it such a good name.”
“Well, well, you're praising the humans.” Aziraphale arrives balancing a tray on the low coffee table next to his open book and a stack of newspapers.
“Have you heard what my creations are called?”
“I don’t think so.”
The demon tells him. The angel blushes and starts passing out mugs. Crowley admires him, then turns to you.
“Will you sit with me?”
Luckily for him, you're not overly resentful. You nod, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't warmed by the sight of his smile and his hand reaching out for yours. You end up on the soft couch, his arm around your shoulders, your hot chocolate in your hand.
And love bites on your neck.
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hwan-g · 1 year
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pisces sun
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p. artist! hyunjin x fem! reader | g. lovers to strangers to more, nightclub setting, angst, smut | w. profanity, smoking, alcohol consumption, mentions of bisexuality, mentions of infidelity, degradation, unprotected sex, straight up filth tbh, flawed characters — read at your own risk | wc. 3.7k | 18+ minors dni!
synopsis. the tone of his voice—don’t trust me, sweetheart. i will lie to you and get away with it—he thinks you ignored it. he thinks that was a mistake. one he doesn’t care to fix.
Hands made of coal, hands raw, unable to draw. Hyunjin stares down at them as if they’re strangers, blue and purple and transparent. The smoke above his head taunts him, throat burning, begging. Hands of an artist, supposedly, hands of a not-quite-all-thereness. All a fancy way of saying he’s useless now, no point in pretending.
But you. You’d kissed him. Perhaps that mattered more than it should. Perhaps he didn’t give a fuck you were taken or that your lips tasted like cherries and your tongue like pineapple. He just wanted the feeling back—life being breathed into him, dainty fingers tugging on his tank top, eyelashes dancing, heart beating. Wanted. With purpose. He was empty of it, desperate to be filled again.
Hyunjin had touched back. He’d stained, tainted, and was now equally as guilty, at fault. He’d warned you wouldn’t like it, the consequences had been there all along; he was always too rough, always pushing, more more more, in the dark, in alleyways, wasted, high off tobacco, stomach growling, hungry, starving, always always always a different hunger, not for food but for this, for skin, for flesh, for the thing between your legs—
He hadn’t been with a girl in a year. There was nothing delicate left in him, nothing soft now. You didn’t look the type to ask for that, not with the way you’re looking at him, stealing cigarettes right out of his mouth. A thief is what you are. Someone that could take and keep taking, shameless, ruthless in your war crime. There’s been a plan he knows nothing about, and cornering a kitten like you won’t help jack shit, that—that he knows, at least.
Too bad.
You’re cold, but he’s fucking colder. That’s what happens to boys that haven’t seen the sun in a while. They freeze all over, their heart falls in deep slumber under ten feet of snow. It’s what a name can do to you, it’s what yellow hair and freckles, a forest in the summer, a hand you just can’t seem to fucking reach—but no more of that now.
This is night. This is cold, middle of February, hard where it should be soft, softer, and it’s looking at him. Straight at him. You. There’s a jacket somewhere in his house that still smells like you or something like you; a naked tree branch, the sharp taste of wind, the first snowfall. You had no one back then, no one had you. You allowed Hyunjin to fuck you over and over and over, fuck you rough, fuck you over, fuck you up, and finally fucking leave you.
Has he ever been anything other than what he’s claimed to be? Not a good person, a miserable artist with no hands, no inspiration, that’s lost the plot, lost the ability to recognize any.bright.color in this world after, and always after, and then what. What possibly? So, you meet again. Punish him. Show him how he deserves to be treated after he manipulated and scorched you with a power of the sun that was never his to begin with. God knows he was burned, too.
You’d bitten the fuck out of his lip. His arms had shot out, had caged in, and you still didn’t look smaller, even as he towered, even as he had the upper hand. If he were to guess, your cunt was soaked. This kind of thing excited you—the chase, the fight. Even from inside the club, his instinct had been right, as if he’d smelled you. You were near, a girl that could never seem to leave him alone, here, somewhere close, and of course he’d get to you, of course he’d try.
How easy you came along, though—that surprised him, painted a smirk on his face that was too fucking hard to wipe off. It meant you still wanted him, that someone did, that that someone was you, his best mistake. His Frankenstein experiment.
“You have nothing to say,” you scoff and shake your head at him. “Even after everything—typical.”
Hyunjin smiles, he swears it’s genuine. You never gave it easy, he always had to work for it. “I’m a creature of habit, I guess.”
You take a drag of his smoke and you make it last. He wants to choke you out; wrap his long fingers around that pretty neck and make it hurt so good. You’d love it, he knows you would.
“Well now, if that were true, I’d be a boy, wouldn’t I?”
Pure venom. You were hurt, still, after so long. He almost doesn’t blame you. He’d hate himself, too. In fact, he does. Very much so.
“Ouch,” he fakes, rubbing a hand over his heart. “Hit me again. Hit me for real.”
“You’d fucking love that, Hyunjin.”
There’s the laugh he hadn’t heard in a while. Coming right out of his throat. It sounded strange, like a cough. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he wanted to take you in his car and screw you from behind, show you what he’d really love.
“Guilty as charged I’m afraid, sweetheart.”
You kiss him again. Just grab him by the necklace hanging, the silver chain that’d been a gift and twirled it around your index like a ribbon. He smiled again as your tongue slipped past his teeth, as you corrupted and inhaled him. Nothing was ever worth it if it didn’t feel like this, he decided, then. Complete annihilation of self, and yet so fucking selfish at the same time—you were terrible for each other, the best, the only, sometimes, yes, definitely.
When he buries himself in you it’s going to feel like a nuclear explosion. You’ll scratch at his shoulder, leave marks on his back. He probably won’t even be able to eat you out from how sore his mouth would be from merely kissing you. What a battle every moment, every movement against you, with you.
You hate him just enough to try to love him, and that’s exactly what he needs.
He digs his nails into your scalp and pulls your hair. His knee pushes past your thigh and forces your legs open—when he applies pressure there, you gasp, you exhale. You sigh into him. He sees right fucking through you. You want this as much as he does. You’ll do anything, too, be anything.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t bend you over right now,” he rasps in your ear, as his hand circles your wrist, brings your fingers to pay attention to the wetness he feels on the fabric of his pants. “You’re fucking soaked for me.”
Your lips are dry as you breathe. His tongue instinctively licks over the pink, teeth grazing, cheeks cold but insides burning. You look at him with a finality he doesn’t want to face.
“We’re not fucking,” you say, but you watch closely as he brings those fingers to his mouth and licks them all the way down to the base of your knuckles.
Hyunjin hums, not convinced. You taste incredible, just as he remembers. “You’re throbbing, aren’t you? You’re arching your back to dry hump my knee, angel. Your body can’t lie to me.”
You’re on fire, a fire. You’re everywhere, you’re crackling. “But I can’t lie to you.”
It’s the boyfriend, isn’t it? Bitterness will never taste familiar in his mouth. “You’re right,” he agrees. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”
“Don’t feel too sorry for yourself.”
He moves his knee to match your rhythm. You hiss, and drop your forehead on his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and brings you closer, closer, closer. There’s hair in his eyes, a beating heart right under his. He lingers, and inhales deeply. He won’t regret missing you, just as he won’t regret taking back from you. You will leave with him and you will do it willingly, without any second thoughts.
“Drop the act, sweetheart, will you? Burn me alive.”
He feels you moving your head, feels your need to pull away. He keeps you there, and switches his leg for his fingers. By the way your body pulled like a string, he figures you like that better. So, he brushes, remembers how to paint. A stroke there, here, and then a line downwards…
The moan that escapes you feels like compensation. A mewling thing, almost reminiscent of a cry. There’s tears running down your thighs, he wants to tease you, but he’s sure you can feel them. Your legs are bare, freezing. You were never scared of a little cold.
“Hasn’t he noticed you’re gone?” He taunts you, condescending, suffers with you. “Surely he should’ve come out looking for you by now. Where’s your knight, huh? Why hasn’t he caught me playing with his girlfriend’s little cunt yet?”
Your fist digs into his collarbone. “Shut up, Hyunjin. You’re only doing this to aid your fantasies.”
Touché. “And yet he’s nowhere to be found.”
“What would you do, anyway?” But you’re panting, you’re shaking. His middle finger, the one with the ring—it’s deep inside you now, it’s curling, it’s found you. “Beat him up? Please. He’s better than that, you’re worse than that.”
He feels his lips curve, and stretch. There’s malice running through his veins, barely contained. “How well you know me,” he muses, his voice but a whisper. His hand cups, moves faster. He has you where he wants you now. His arm digs around the small of your back, as he feels you struggle to get more, to find better friction, release.
Not too far now.
“I know you, too,” he continues, voice rough, on edge. Severe. “I know you hate the other side of me, the one that thought you weren’t enough. Say I fucked up and should’ve stayed with you. Say you hate my guts but love the way I fuck you and come with me. Leave it all behind for me.”
You cum as a hysterical laugh rips from your chest. He rides your high and stays with you till the end. You still don’t look at him, but he can tell by your stance—you’re offended, you hate that he’s right. You hate that this wasn’t enough, either, and that his cock would satiate the thirst in you once and for all if you just gave in. Even if it’s just for tonight. He’s fine with that for right now. He’ll work for more later.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You ask mockingly but he hears none of it.
“Say it.”
“Fuck you.”
His hand forces your head up, cups your jaw and makes you look at him. Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears. He smiles. He thinks it’s mercy.
“Good,” he pets and smooths. “Say it, sweetheart.”
He almost felt you were his, so close he held you. Anyone that passed would’ve mistaken you two as being passionately in love, embracing each other like there was no fucking oxygen on this earth when apart. Hyunjin could pretend that was the case, if he wanted to. He could do many things.
Be inside you was one.
His hold on your face was bruising but your lips looked so plushy, so inviting. He stole a kiss as you were grasping for breath. Being with you, burning his entire collection of paintings and his art studio all together—it equaled the same thing. A madness that can only be found in him. A need for destruction of anything good that ever came of anything—hands unable to do the one thing they were destined to, but they traced your face so prettily, cradled it so carefully and yet so brutally, with all the fucking strength he possessed.
It wasn’t violence, no. It was an alikeness, a recognition from long ago. He did say there was no softness left in him, none to be found in you. What was he supposed to do with hard pavement and a cold so cold it trespassed any sort of warmth, any sort of fever?
Forgive that. He was very drunk. He craved a cigarette.
“You should’ve stayed with me,” you say finally, after a long while of silence and looking through and beyond. “You’d been kind once. A poet. You would drown in anyone. Looks like he drowned you.”
“Icarus falling to his death.” A story told by constellations.
You blink, disagree. “Narcissus petrified in place, staring down the lake. You’re no naivety, Hyunjin, no reaching too far.”
He’d underestimated you, played himself. Your finger passed over his curved lips, feeling the irony there. He pushed it away, replaced it with your wetness. He sucked on his digits, never once looking elsewhere, admitting this, whatever this was, and accepting it at the same time. He had been bettered.
Still, he needed you. Needed this.
“Don’t trust me, sweetheart. I will lie to you and get away with it.”
The tone of his voice— he thinks you ignored it. He thinks that was a mistake. One he doesn’t care to fix. When you grab his hand he pulls immediately.
It’s a short walk to his car but he smokes anyway. You changed this small thing for him now, took it away. That, too. You call him terrible, but you’re just as. It rings between you.
He opens the door but not for you, and gets inside. He leaves you stand for a second while he takes a long drag and lets his gaze roam over you, landing on your face, the smudge under your eyes. He considers it seriously, doing this again with you. You don’t seem self conscious or awkward looking back, just determined and eternally angry with him. That will do. That’s great, actually. Maybe you’ll draw blood, maybe you’ll reach for the gun in his glove department and shoot his brains out.
It’s been a tough year. If you were vain you’d blame it on his bad decision. You don’t because you know better. Hyunjin will put words in your mouth but won’t dare believe them, either. In a sense, he’s a coward, isn’t he? Even now, so close to what he wanted all along, he hesitates. Should he let you in, replace sunshine for winter, cologne for perfume—he’d sit you on his lap and lift your skirt up. He’d fuck you while staring into your judgmental eyes.
Change. What a fucking gamble.
Eh, he’ll take it. He’s nothing to lose.
“Don’t you dare fall in love with me, do you hear me?” And he grabs you by the forearm, brings you in, on top, thumbs touching under your eyes, dragging the liner further, sinking you deeper into the night.
You grit your teeth, watch as he makes you into an animal, just for him. You let him only because you’d like to be anything else but yourself right now. Not a girl that betrays and gets in cars with self destructive boys, but a fox, a cat, a wolf, something with teeth and claws that can fight her way back out, can win against Hwang Hyunjin. You’re helpless, he can tell.
He opens your mouth by squeezing your cheeks in his palm and spits in it. He waits for a reaction, a rebellion, a rejection, even, though he doubts it. Your thighs are on either side of him, and his cock is aligned perfectly underneath your warm, wet cunt. Hyunjin wants to be crude with you, wants to challenge and reshape, bring back the girl that would let him fuck her in public restrooms at random biker clubs off the highway, the girl that would snort white powder from his naked body as he was sexting another boy, not a fucking care in the world, not a clue. Sweet oblivion.
He wanted to bring the worst out of you again. He needed you as desperate, as heartbroken, as ashamed as he was.
“Love is the last thing on my mind,” as you kiss him, as you can’t wait to ride him.
What a joke. “Tsk,” he clicks his tongue against his teeth, mocking, a predator smiling at his prey. “You’re lying to me already. Good.”
Your groan against his neck sends shivers down his spine. He wants more. He wants more. He squeezes, gropes, scratches—he’ll have it, one way or another. He’ll have this, damn it all, because he can’t have the other, he can’t have him, and it’s not revenge but it’s not love, either, it’s the madness that surges through him, the temptation of something else, the pain of knowing, the fear.
You’ll understand. You will, because you care. He’ll play it against you if he has to.
“Fuck me already, won’t you?” You complain and unzip, reaching for his hardening cock between you, blinking emptily as you feel the sticky pre-cum on your fingers. “Huh,” he watches as you bring it towards your wetness, rubbing back and forth, testing how it feels against your folds.
He tries to hold back a reaction but fails. You’re as much a thorn on his side as the boy, you’ve as much control, as much influence. Who is he fucking kidding.
“This brings back memories,” you say, mournfully.
Hyunjin doesn’t have time for those. They haunt him day and night as it is. It’s enough. It’s fucking plenty. So, he grabs you by the arms and slams you down on his dick, hard and uncaring. Your back arches, your breasts bop. He thinks he heard his name come from your lips, curses following, but even so, he welcomes it all.
Being like this with you, it feels much like breaking the rules. Like not knowing where he stands in the world. Every time he got lost, you were there for him to run to. This is no different. A star to guide him, a girl that’s much like him. Perhaps only in that way, he deserved you. You deserved each other.
“Missed this?” He asks as he refuses you your own rhythm, instead opting to piston into your hole as maniacally as his mind is racing. “Your pussy is telling me yes, angel.”
You were grasping for breath, a ragged doll reduced to pornstar moans and nonsensical words. Every time his hips met yours halfway, you’d scream and dig your nails into his clothed thighs. It didn’t hurt, though Hyunjin wishes it did. You were always his favorite kitten.
“Lost your words, huh?” His hand swipes up and lands on your tear stained cheek. Your eyes speak of hate and malice as they bore into his. He smirks and spits in your open mouth again. “You used to love this, sweetheart—your cunt can’t lie to me. It’s eating me right up.”
“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you—ah!”
He picks up his pace, feeling himself getting close, and pictures shooting his load in you, deep in you; how embarrassed you’d be knowing you’ll be carrying him in there for a while, a reminder of how you fought but ultimately lost. Hyunjin loves getting under your skin, loves fucking you into oblivion even more.
He switches his hold from your arms to your neck, fingers wrapping securely around the sensitive part, just enough, just right, and angles your body in a way that makes his cock hit inside you deeper. You gasp, and try to hold onto something, anything—the door handle and the windshield, while you’ve no control over any of it now, he truly has you trapped. He truly intends to keep you, too.
“That’s it, sweetheart, clamp around me, drown me, just like that, let me see it—” he unwraps one of your hands, making you fall back, as he uses your fingers to rub circles on your clit, and it truly has no beginning and no end, your limbs are all tangled, his hips are on fire, his dick is moments from exploding, and you look so fucking good pleasuring yourself while he buries himself deep in your soaking folds—
“Please, please…” you’re sobbing now, you’re in pain, he can see, but he won’t do anything about it. “Hyun—Hyunjin, I can’t, I can’t—”
“You will,” he growls, and he stills as he spurts, as your walls clench around him, as he paints them white. He withdraws his hold, and pulls you close, your skin sweaty against his feverish face. He wraps around your waist, and his forehead falls against your shoulder, hair wet, wrapping tighter, tighter, until your heartbeats are one, until his release is yours and yours his, until your breathing calms down.
You’re hyperventilating. His mind swarms with a thousand bees.
“You will,” he repeats, and pats your hair down. “And it’s gonna happen again and again, until nothing matters… until I’m punished.”
You’re shaking uncontrollably. He holds you. He thinks you might be crying.
“I don’t want to punish you,” you whisper in the quiet of a car that reminds him nothing of you, everything of someone else. “I want you to take me home for once. I want you to hug me and know you’re here, whole. Present.”
It’s what’s always holding him back. The deal breaker. The one thing—his invisibility being questioned. But that’s long been gone now, hasn’t it? A sunny boy banged against that glass case and broke everything inside. There’s not much of that illusion left.
“It’s not going to happen, angel,” he soothes, reassures. “Not anytime soon.”
You don’t look at him and you’re right to do so. He doesn’t want to look at you, either. Once, he’d loved you. When love blooms it never truly dies. It withers. It’s reborn again. But permanent death?
You’re sitting in remnants of a relationship, connected as only limbs can be. He can’t quite fool himself now.
“But it will,” you sound sure. Tired. Guilty. “Like you said.”
Hyunjin laughs at that. Poison ivy, wrapping around his fucking neck—his words. He’s lost worse, but a loss is a loss just the same. He has to give it to you.
“You might be better at this than I am, sweetheart.”
A huff of breath against his skin. His lip curves.
“Lies,” you say.
“See?”
He’ll usher you in the backseat, he’ll take you from behind. You won’t say another word to each other, but later you’ll call your boyfriend and ask where he is. He’ll lie, too, and you’ll know, but you’ll go back to him anyway. Hyunjin will let you, only because now he’s wrapped a string around your throat.
He can pull at it anytime.
tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @j-0ne25, @danyxthirstae01, @streetlight-s, @amnmich, @imtoooyoungforthisshit.
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