#I noticed I started drawing his hair quite differently after thinking about how it would flow and pull | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

222col · 2 months ago

Text

second best

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ you and patrick are both in relationships, but after meeting at an event, you can't quit each other. you both know it's wrong, but you just can't stop. you're addicted to each other, unable to go without your fix. ★ 10.2k ★ 18+ | cw: angst, cheating, smut: unprotected sex, choking, slapping, f oral ★ an: this one took me a while, hope u luv ! <3

it's not like you and patrick don't acknowledge you shouldn't be doing what you're doing, you do, often. but there's something about patrick zweig that just keeps drawing you back in. he feels the same, patrick may look like he has very few morals, but typically, cheating is something he'd never do. usually, when in a relationship, patrick's completely locked in. but there's something different about what you two share. yeah, it's sex, but it's more. it's primal, the attraction, the whole experience. there should be guilt, you should both feel so guilty that it doesn't continue, so sick to your stomachs that you can't fathom seeing each other again, but you don't. the relationship you share with patrick overshadows every other feeling you could endure. it's an automatic reaction, an addiction, something neither you or patrick could begin to live without anytime soon. it all started two months ago, you'd been with your boyfriend a year, patrick in his relationship nine months. you met at an adidas party a few years into patrick's career, during your second season in professional tennis. setting eyes on patrick across the dance floor, it was as though you could feel your body come alive.

red dress slick to your skin, hips swaying, hands in your hair as you locked eyes with patrick. signature smirk plastered on his face, beer in hand as he watched you dance. licking his lips as you excused yourself and headed his way. it was almost involuntary as your feet started moving, feeling yourself being physically drawn to him. "like what you see, huh?" hands on hips as you speak the first words to patrick. he chuckles slightly, eye contact unbroken. "something like that." patrick introduces himself as you do, flirty smiles across both of your faces. you didn't need to speak to understand each other, know exactly what the other was really thinking, it went unspoken. "do you want a drink?" patrick asks, free hand slipping into his pocket. nodding your head as patrick leads you to the bar, buying you your favourite and moving to occupy a couple empty seats away from the crowd. "just to let you know, i have a boyfriend." you start, met with a hum from patrick, leaning his elbows on his knees as you sit opposite him. "and i have a girlfriend, doesn't mean i can't talk to you, does it?" you both know this isn't going to end with talking, but for now, you'll ignore the tension in the air between you. telling yourselves that you're good people, and would never dream of cheating on your partners.

the two of you sit for a while, discussing your tennis careers, how you got into the sport. flirty smirks and heavy eye contact filling the empty gaps, noticing the time and lack of bodies at the party, you stand, ready to say your goodbyes, but stopped by patrick. "we're at the same hotel, right? come have a nightcap with me." he offers, standing up with you, closing some distance. "that sounds like playing with fire." you half laugh, acknowledging the tension for the first time out loud tonight, only adding more excitement to the air. patrick raises his eyebrow to you, the corner of his lips turning upwards. breathing out, knowing there was no saying no to that damn smirk, you accept. patrick's hand pressed lightly to your back, leading you away from the party. it was only a short walk back to your hotel, his hand staying put against the fabric of your dress. both of you so aware this nightcap was nothing short of an excuse for more time together, specifically, time alone away from onlookers eyes. patrick's hand only dropping to his side to fish his hotel key from his pocket, showing you into his room. opening the mini fridge he pours you both a drink, sitting next to each other on the couch underneath the hotel room windows, his hand draped across the back, beside your shoulder.

facing each other slightly, the electricity in the air only becoming more obvious by the lack of space between your bodies. shoes kicked off feet beside the couch, holding the glass between your hands as patrick's eyes swallow yours. "stop looking at me like that." you laugh, feeling small under his gaze. "like what?" patrick questions, knowing exactly where this about to lead. what should be guilt filling his body is replaced by pure lust. bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes float over your body, only now realising how small your dress is on your body. collarbones fully exposed, the fabric hitching up your thigh due to how you're sat on the couch. "like a meal. you look like you wanna eat me." his breath hitches, eyes moving back up your body to your eyes. holding your gaze, he places his glass down the coffee table next to him. following his movements, you do the same, leaning in towards him. "well, maybe i do want to taste you." patrick admits, his body moving towards you, eyes growing darker as the admission leaves his lips. the slow, gradual movements you're making towards each other feel like miles you have to travel. every second of inching closer feels like hours. every thought leaves your brain as patrick's hands grasp your cheeks and pull your lips onto his. mouths open, tongues sliding over each other, desperate to discover every part of each other's mouths.

patrick kisses feel like you're finally being kissed properly, as though no one before him had ever known how. his lips are soft, tongue hard against yours. his hands moving to your waist, pulling your body onto his lap. straddling his hips as your arms wrap around his neck, hopelessly trying to taste more of him. moving your lips down his jaw, licking and sucking at his skin down to his neck. "my god, you're so hot." patrick mumbles, head falling back, eyes fluttering closed as you nibble at the skin below his earlobe. pushing your head back to face him, eyes locked on each other, breathing heavy as his lips push against yours again. his hips bucking up against you, the harsh fabric of his jeans rubbing against the lace of your underwear. "we shouldn't.." you start, words falling into his mouth, lips barely leaving each others. patrick knows exactly what you mean, knows you want to help your ego, feel like you at least tried to not fuck him. "hmm, i don't care," patrick mumbles, his hands caressing every inch of your curves as yours move to bunch in his curls. trying desperately to pull yourself off of him but your body not allowing it, you're sucked in. he's like a drug, one taste and you're hooked. pushing yourself backwards from his lips, half-lidded eyes looking down to him, his hands holding you in place as you part your lips and whisper. "i want you."

his hands hook under your thighs, lifting you up as if you weigh nothing, legs instinctively wrapping around his body as patrick walks you both over to the bed. dropping you down, standing over you at the end of the bed. propping yourself onto your elbows, looking up patrick through your lashes, watching him pull his t-shirt over his head. "take it off." patrick instructs, unbuttoning his jeans, pulling down his zipper, his body overcome with desire. lifting your dress up your body from the hem, shimmying the fabric up over your chest, slipping it over your head as it's flung off the bed. laid before him as his jeans drop to the floor, matching red lace underwear adorn your skin. patrick's mouth slightly agape, still stood before you, taking in every inch of you. readjusting the tent in his boxers as he smirks down to you. "you gonna stand there staring all night, patrick? or are you gonna actually fuck me?" patrick groans at your words, hearing you verbally admit what you want from him. crawling over your body, your knees bent squeezing him into place, his hands at either side of your head. grinding himself down against you, legs spread waiting for him. leaning his head down to yours, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down as your eyes roll back.

moving one of his hands to your chest, holding himself up with one arm as the other gropes your boobs. pulling them out from your bra as you push the straps down your arms. grabbing your waist as patrick flips the two of you over, sitting you up on his lap as he undoes your bra, letting it fall down your arms before throwing it in the direction of your dress. knees either side of his hips, grinding against him, the friction causing quiet noises from the both of you. patrick's mouth moving down to wrap around your nipple, hands caressing both of your boobs. manhandling your chest as his teeth graze the skin of your nipple, hissing at the sensation. shoulders pushing back as your head falls with them, patrick's lips attacking your neck as he continues squeezing your breasts. surprising patrick as your hands wrap around his wrists, pushing him down against the bed, his arms above his head. grinding your hips down against him quicker, patrick struggling below you, attempting to escape from your grip but failing. bucking his hips up against you, desperate for some friction on his aching cock. "hmm, getting needy?" you fake pout, patrick sucking his teeth in response. his cock twitching against you, so unfamiliar with the competition for dominance. feeling you start to rearrange your grip around his wrists, he slips from your grasp, throwing you onto your back once more. pushing his boxers down his legs, hands snaking between your bodies to pull your panties down too. reaching down to slip his fingers into you, as his other hand pins both your wrists above your head. smirking down to you as his digits push in and out of your cunt, his thumb circling your clit. your back arched as moans escape you, moving your wrists in attempt to loosen his grip, but failing as he pushes your arms further into the mattress. "stop struggling."

the both of you had never been so desperate for something in your lives. both never felt so overcome with lust and desire, bodies in need of each other. the tension building becoming unbearable, the room filling with heavy breathing and moans. slipping his fingers out from you, wrapping his hand around his member. freeing you from his grip as he lifts your leg onto his shoulder, lining himself up with your entrance. eyes staring into each others, keeping you there for a minute, his cock teasing you as the suspense builds between you. "patrick, fuckin-" you start, words cut off as his thick cock pushes all the way inside you. lifting your other leg onto his shoulder now, fingers digging into your thighs as he wastes no time pounding in and out of you. screams of pleasure from you met with a smirk on patrick's mouth. "you were saying?" patrick teases, his lips kissing down your ankle. holding back your moans through gritted teeth, the sheets balled in your fists, patrick's dick hitting your g-spot with every thrust. your ass lifted from the mattress as patrick's speed increases. fucking you deeper than you've ever felt, seeing a bulge on your stomach every time he thrusts into you. he's hitting places inside your walls you've never experienced, eyes in the back of your head as your moans mix together as one. skin slaps echoing in the room, fingers moving to grasp patrick's thighs, nails digging into the skin. biting your lip through a smirk as you look up to the brunette. "hit me."

"god, you're dirty." patrick mumbles through moans, the request making his cock twitch inside you. dropping your legs down from his shoulders, pounding into you harder as his open hand smacks against the skin of your cheek. the sound that escapes you is sinful, patrick's hand wrapping around your throat. "agai-" you start, cut off by another slap across your face. his body falling onto yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. his hand still around your throat, the other gripping the skin on your hip. teeth nibbling on your earlobe, every sound he makes falling into your ear. fingers scratching down the skin of his spine, sharp nails drawing blood from his back, only to be met by groans from patrick. "jesus christ, where have you been all my life?" he mumbles, thrusts getting sloppy. moving his hand from your hip to reach between your sweaty bodies to circle your clit. feeling you become undone underneath his body, legs jolting as your ankles tighten around him. his hand gripping your throat tighter as he feels you cum over his cock. circling you through your high before slipping his fingers from your skin. hands either side of your shoulders, pushing himself up as his hips slap against yours. "i'm on the pill," you start, struggling to speak through the sensations. "cum inside me, patrick, please."

his cock slaps against your g-spot once more as he paints your walls white, cursing his way through his orgasm. collapsing against you as his dick slips out from inside of you. the sweat from your bodies sticking the two of you together as you both come back down to earth, calming your breathing and dropping your legs down from around his body. peppering the side of your face in kisses before moving to the side of you on the bed. staring at the ceiling in silence for a few minutes as you both recover. breaking the silence once your breathing as returned to a normal pace. "we can't do that again." patrick scoffs, brown curls sticking to his skin. "we're doing that again as soon as physically possible." his head turning to look at you, following suit and looking into his half-lidded eyes. "that was the best sex of my life. i'm not giving that up anytime soon." patrick half laughs, making you giggle and shake your head. "you're gonna get me in so much trouble, zweig." patrick moves to bite down on your earlobe. "i think you're already in trouble."

you and patrick are playing most of the same tournaments on tour, meaning even if you wanted to avoid him and let the guilt wash over you, you couldn't. wanting to avoid him very quickly turns into falling into his bed every night you can. any idea of guilt or remorse is lost the second that smirk appears on his lips and the number of his room is text to you during the first day of the tournament. patrick fucks you like no other, both of you obsessed with the others touch. the others ability to turn each other on with just a look, just a thought. all patrick has to do is let his mind wander and all he can hear is 'hit me' and he's hard during practise. and that's the other issue, the lines are getting thinner. you've started helping each other with your games' during off days, playing practise matches together and hitting up bars after. what two months ago was a mindless fuck one night, has turned into hours of conversations and time spent together. lucky for you both, there hasn't been any major tournament's on the tour yet, ones that family and friends would request to attend. so you haven't had to worry about anyone you know noticing the amount of time you spend in each others pockets. other athlete's have of course noticed, but most are none the wiser or simply don't care. you're both becoming more needy for each other, more desperate for touch when you should resist. patrick making excuses, criticising your backhand to be able to jog across the court and touch the skin of your body to help your game. the addiction to each other growing stronger, harder to ignore and act like you're not doing anything wrong. it's easier to rationalise if it's said to be just sex, lying to yourself that you're lonely and horny on tour, needing someone to scratch the itch while your partner is far, far away from you. that would be easy, if it was just sex.

laying together, bodies tangled together as some old tv show plays from the screen in the hotel you're currently in. clothes spread across the floor, both naked as you lay together, patrick drawing circles on your shoulder, cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "you've improved a lot since the start of tour." patrick compliments, flicking the ash into the empty can on the nightstand. you have, every free minute you have you spend either on the courts or in patrick's bed. it's hard to be distracted by loneliness on tour if you're not lonely. "thanks, maybe it's because you're helping me." you half laugh, stealing the cigarette from him, inhaling and placing it back between his lips. patrick laughs lightly at your answer, he's gotten better too. he knows if there's free time you'll be on the courts, so naturally goes too. the stillness in the room is interrupted by your phone ringing, a picture of your boyfriend lighting the screen. "fuck." you mumble, escaping from patrick's grasp. rushing around the room, picking up a t-shirt from the floor and brushing down your hair. sitting in the corner of the room on an armchair, you answer the facetime call. "hey baby." you can see patrick roll his eyes as he puts the cigarette out in the can, slipping his boxers back onto his body. "yeah, final tomorrow, feeling good. how's home?" patrick watches you from the edge of the bed, seeing you bring your knees up to your chest, brushing against the fabric of his t-shirt you've slipped on. his eyes darken as he notices your exposed cunt, clearly not having had time to put your panties back on. his eyes grow dark, a devilish idea taking over his brain.

he can barely concentrate on what you're saying, not that he cares what lies you're telling your boyfriend, just curious. "i know, i wish you were here too." okay, that one slipped through. a quiet scoff leaves his lips. leaning down from the bed, falling onto all fours as patrick starts crawling across the floor over to you. your eyes darting to him and that signature smirk across his face, hiding any reaction from slipping through facetime. "yeah, us open in a couple weeks so i'll be able to see you then." you smile, trying to ignore patrick on his route to you. kneeling before you, his hands spreading your ankles, your elbows resting on your knees as you hold your phone. muting the call quickly and whispering down to patrick. "don't you dare." what was meant to deter him only spurs him on. unmuting the call before your boyfriend noticing, him still explaining his excitement for the tournament. legs spread open before patrick's face, his tongue licking a line up through your folds. gritting your teeth as you desperately attempt to focus on the call, trying to push patrick's head away, with no success. covering your reaction to patrick's mouth wrapping around your clit with a cough, breathing deeply through your nose. "yeah, i've already got your tickets all worked out, don't worry." your words come out stuttered, you can feel the smile from patrick against your cunt. licking and lapping you up, one hand grasping the hairs at his scalp.

a slight moan escapes you, trying to cover with another cough, met with questions from your boyfriend. "yeah, sorry, i'm fine, just a tickle in my throat." you lie as two of patrick's fingers insert themselves into you, breath hitching at the sensation. "so yeah, the driver will pick you up from the airport and i'll meet you at the hotel when you arrive." you attempt to continue conversation, the feeling in your stomach growing stronger as patrick's tongue draws shapes over your clit, wetness dripping down his chin. feeling his hot breath on your cunt, faint sounds of his fingers thrusting into you. "baby, i gotta go, got practise in half an hour, i'll call you tomorrow." you rush out your words, not letting him say bye before hanging up and throwing your phone down. head flinging back as loud moans leave you, both hands moving to patrick's curls now. "jesus, patrick, you're gonna kill me." you hear him laugh against you, the vibrations flowing through you as he does. he sloppily makes out with your wetness, finally letting the moans fall into the room, making his fingers move faster. his curls tickling your thighs as they clench around his head, bucking your hips up, grinding your clit against his nose. eyes rolling into the back of your head as your orgasm sends shock waves through your body, holding his head in place as you ride it out. loosening him from your grip as you stop seeing stars.

"patrick-" you start, his chin dripping in drool and sticky from your wetness, about to tell him off. "you fucking love it." he cuts you off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. shaking your head as patrick pushes onto the armchair you're sat on, moving your body onto his lap, his arm around your waist. "plus, it was very fucking hot." he mumbles as his lips crash onto yours, pulling you as close to his body as possible. "you're gonna get us caught one of these days." you regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, you and patrick never discussed the idea of admitting what you were doing, not like he hadn't just gone down on you while on the phone to your boyfriend. but admitting you could get caught meant admitting one day it would have to stop, that you'd have to accept that it was wrong and immoral and totally against your values. that you were hurting people that you cared about for the sake of your own pleasure. "so fucking what?" patrick's response surprised you, his hand wrapping around your throat as he pulled your face back down onto his lips. you were scared of getting caught, petrified, you assumed patrick was too. you both cared deeply about your relationships despite the fact you were cheating, so patrick's answer threw you off guard slightly. pushing the thought to the back of your head as your body was lifted to the air and thrown against the bed, giggling as patrick pulled you to the edge of the bed, slipping off his boxers as he flips you onto your stomach. so fuck drunk from patrick's cock that you thought yeah, so what if you got caught, so fucking what?

things carry on the same way up to the us open, both you and patrick looking like strong contenders on your sides of the competition. both dreading the change in dynamic between you once partners arrive to support you during the two weeks of the tournament. sitting on the side of the courts, both breathless after the practise you'd done. "when does he arrive?" patrick asks, chugging down the most part of his water bottle. "three hours, you?" you return, sweat dropping from your skin. "four. we still have the hotel rooms we get assigned, you know?" patrick smirks to you, throwing a tennis ball back and forth in his hands. you were both planning on staying with your partners, in their hotels separate from the tournament. all players are put up in a hotel together during any stops on the tour, you and patrick had stayed there the night previous before both partners arrived today. "patrick, that really is playing with fire." packing away your things, standing up to collect stray tennis balls about the court as patrick begins to help. "we could just say we have commitments, press, practise, whatever." he shrugs, unwilling to accept he'll have to go two weeks without touching you. "we can still see each other, for lunch and things like that." you suggest, putting the balls into the crate, tidying it off to the side with your things. "not the same." he mumbles, sulking as he too puts his rackets back into their bag. "oh boohoo, we knew this would happen." slinging your bags onto shoulders, patrick grabbing the crate of balls and heading inside. "quickie before they arrive then?" you laugh as he follows you down the hall. "please?"

you'd become more open talking about partners, not experiences or what they were like, but in relation to your own relationship with patrick. you'd stopped pretending they didn't exist, more accepting of the fact you and patrick were sneaking around behind their backs. especially with knowing they'd be so close to each other, and to the two of you, aware of the fact you could cross paths with patrick's girlfriend or vice versa. after cleaning up in patrick's hotel room, patrick showering with you before you darted off to your partners hotel, meeting him in the lobby. swept up into affection and care by him, brushing off the idea of sex with an 'i'm tired'. the two of you catching up about your time apart while getting ready for the party held at the start of the tournament, being held at the players' hotel. introducing your partner to some of the female athletes you'd met and played against during the tour, sharing drinks and nibbling on the snacks brought around. his arm snaked around your waist as you mingled through the party, holding in the uncomfortable way his hands made you feel. standing around a table with him and a few other players and their families, spotting those familiar curls bouncing into the big hall. girl to his side, not touching her, her big eyes looking up to him as they entered. his eyes immediately finding yours as he can't hold back the smile forming on his lips.

walking towards you, drink in hand as the two of them slot into your group. stunned at his openness, swallowing down the frog in your throat as patrick says his hellos. "aren't you going to introduce me?" he taunts you, elbowing your side as he slots in next to you, his girlfriend to his left. extending his hand to your boyfriend, you calm yourself and introduce the two of them. "this is patrick zweig, he's been help-" you start to explain a reason for his need for introduction. "we've been helping each other, during the tour." you wish you could slap the smirk off of his face, your boyfriend none the wiser smiles and shakes his hand. "aren't you going to introduce me then, too?" you poke back, moving your head to look to his girlfriend, sweet smile disguising your true feelings. patrick introduces the two of you, further explaining your relationship, for reasons you wish he wouldn't. "yeah as i said, we've been helping each other a lot. she's made me a much better player." your fakeness dissipates, a true smile on your face at patrick's kindness. "me too." you return, the others in your group disbanding, leaving the four of you alone. "sounds like you've gotten close then." your oh so naive boyfriend smiles, arm still resting on the small of your back. "yeah, we definitely have." patrick smiles into his drink, throat bobbing as he finishes the drink. "if you'll excuse us, i owe this one a drink for thrashing me today." patrick smiles, leading you to the bar away from your partners', his hand replacing your boyfriends'.

"getting me alone already? you only saw me six hours ago." you laugh, met with a side eye from patrick as he leans onto the bar, ordering you both a drink. "i don't know how i'm gonna go two weeks like this." he admits. "did you have sex with him?" patrick leans down, whispering the question to you. you simply shake your head in response, receiving your drink from the bartender. "did you?" you find it harder to ask than you should. "nah, why would i when i have you?" patrick winks to you as he walks back over to your partners, guiding his girlfriend over to a table to sit. collecting yourself you walk back over to your boyfriend. "he seems nice." he starts. "did you give him that t-shirt?" he asks you, looking over to patrick, following his gaze you look to his outfit before turning back to your boyfriend, brows furrowed at the question. "you were wearing it on facetime the other week. you must shop at the same places!" he laughs, sipping his drink, turning away as the blush creeps up your cheeks, suddenly very grateful for your very naive boyfriend.

spending the night sharing secret glances at patrick, him doing the same every chance he gets. the night starting to draw to a close, witnessing patrick hug his girlfriend at the door. expecting them to leave, but only she does, patrick locking eyes with you from the exit. signalling his head upwards, towards the rooms upstairs in the hotel. shaking your head to him, lips upturned, patrick just nodding in response before darting off. hearing your phone ping from your purse, hiding the screen from your partner, who's too engaged in conversation to even notice.

patrick: come on, u know u want to ;)

that boy will be the death of you, you think. unable to go more than half a day without touching you, breathing deeply, thinking how you're going to go two weeks like this, hiding and risking getting caught for half an hour of each others time.

patrick: i need youuu

patrick's text chimes through again, rolling your eyes to the phone. interrupting your partner's conversation explaining you need to pack up the things you left in your room ready for press tomorrow, that you'll meet him back at his hotel later. "sure babe." his lips press against your cheek, a pinch of guilt under your skin, lying to his face like this. the remorse was a lot easier to ignore when he wasn't around. chewing the inside of your cheek as you enter the elevator up to patrick's floor, any idea of wrongdoing washing away as the tension builds up in your body. knocking lightly on his door, it opening within seconds of the sound. patrick's smile welcomes you in, pulling you into his arms the second the door is closed. "i missed you." he whispers into your skin, wet kisses placed all over your face. "you literally just saw me." you laugh into his frame, arms around his neck. "but i couldn't touch you." patrick pouts, wasting no time placing your lips against his. his big hands grabbing at your back, claiming the skin as his. walking your bodies to the edge of the bed, sitting together, lips not parting from each others for even a second. hands roaming each other, pulling and squeezing at fabric and skin. breathing each other in as your head feels light, getting your fix of your addiction.

"we don't have long, patrick." you mumble into his mouth, fiddling with the curls on his head. "that's okay, i just wanted to kiss you." you swear your heart stops beating for a second. he didn't even want sex, just a kiss from you. so needy for you that going half a day without a kiss would have been too much for him. you can feel the lines of the relationship thinning even more, trying to rationalise the cheating as just sex. it would be too wrong if you and patrick caught feelings for each other, it would cross the boundaries of culpability. you just liked spending time together, sleeping together, playing tennis together. there were no feelings involved, or at least admitted by either of you anyway. but hearing patrick tell you he orchestrated this current situation, sneaking away from your partners during a party, just to kiss you, made goosebumps form on your arms. melting into him further as his mouth swallowed yours. pulling away from his face, placing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "are you going soft on me, zweig?" you joke, arms still wrapped around each other. "oh sorry for wanting a kiss." he teases back, letting himself be slightly vulnerable with you. he would have been happy just sat holding your hand in this hotel room, anything to be close to you. patrick feels a specific calmness when in your company, a sensation that takes over him whenever you're close. he craves it, any time he's away from your skin.

patrick was more open with himself about his feelings in regards to your relationship, he knew that lines had already been crossed and there was no going back, for him anyway. he also knew you hadn't registered that idea yet, knew you were still refusing to accept that this was anything more than sex. you didn't act like that's all it was to you, but it's what helped you sleep at night. patrick often thought about breaking up with his girlfriend, he hadn't been with her too long before you anyway. patrick was more scared of the rejection he could face from you than breaking up with her. he knew if he were to leave her, it would be for you, and he couldn't handle the idea of you telling him no. telling him you wouldn't leave your boyfriend, for so now, he kept things the same, thinking he'd rather have you in some way than not at all. to you, ending your relationship wasn't an option, not yet anyway. you could handle being alone, waiting for patrick, but leaving your partner would make things messy. mean accepting the truth and having to admit to someone outside of you and patrick. it would mean accepting your wrongdoings and taking blame, making what you and patrick were doing wrong, and part of you could never view your relationship with patrick as wrong. he was like no other, made you feel like no other, and that feeling in your chest could never been told as wrong.

kissing patrick once more, near enough empty duffle bag hanging from your shoulder as you left the hotel with him, heading in separate directions to your partners hotels. your boyfriend in bed asleep by the time you enter, changing into an oversized t-shirt, patrick's of course, not that you noticed it was his. facing away from your partner, face buried into your phone, staying up late texting patrick all through the night.

patrick: can't sleep without u next to me anymore

your lip is constantly between your teeth, chewing at the softness, spinning your head around checking on your sleeping boyfriend periodically. you and patrick shared a bed most nights during tour, in either of your hotel rooms, falling asleep in each others arms, drifting off to the sound of calm breathing.

you: ur gonna have dark circles for press tomorrow, go to sleep!!

patrick holds back a chuckle, phone not leaving his head, his only way to feel close to you. knowing your on the other side of the screen, typing back to him as quick as he is you.

patrick: so are you, goodnight gorgeous

sending back your own goodnight message, finally locking your phone, tossing and turning your way to sleep.

getting dressed after breakfast with your boyfriend, white dress skort and matching tank slick to your skin, packing your bags before ubering to the venue. "i would have picked you up." you hear from patrick as you close the door to your uber, slinging your bags over your shoulders as he locks his car. "and that would have been really subtle, wouldn't it?" you laugh, leading you both into the venue. "that's why i made a point of telling our partners how well we get on, stupid." he teases you, jabbing his elbow into your side, met with an eye roll from you. "so we can still spend time together without any questions." you respond, realising patrick's reason for the introductions last night. "duh. i'll drive you back later." his words are more instructions than an offering, the two of you dropping off your things in the locker rooms. putting another layer of powder on your face, patrick leaving a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder. batting him away, grateful for the empty room. the two of you ready yourselves for press, walking over to the media rooms where multiple promotion screens are placed around the room. patrick is pulled into an interview, standing to the left of him as you await your turn. "you've definitely improved this season, patrick, why do you think that is? any new members to your team?" you hear patrick's interviewer ask him and you get mic'ed up by a member of the press. his gaze lands on you before quickly returning to the interviewer, camera blinking as he answers the question. "no new members no, i've been practising a lot with someone new though, it must be helping." patrick's arms folded on his chest, signature smirk down the camera as the interviewer pushes for more, hearing your name leave patrick's lips. "we've been playing in all the same tournaments, so we've been spending a lot of time together." this interviewers eyes move to you, hopeful to bring you into frame, getting a new scoop for his sports channel.

"come on," patrick states, pulling you over to his interview. cheeks slightly flushed as he does. "we had noticed your improvement too," the interviewer starts, stating your name before continuing. "is that also due to your time with patrick?" considering your answer carefully before responding. "yeah, patrick's been great, it's like having a second coach while we play." you laugh, a chuckle from patrick too. "i'm really grateful for sure." smiling over to patrick, holding his gaze for slightly too long before returning to the camera. "so i assume you're both rooting for each other during this tournament?" the interviewer continues, reshuffling his notes, the two of you nodding immediately. "definitely, i go to all of her matches that i can and she's always at mine." the interviewer asks a few more questions before thanking patrick and carrying on with your individual interview. wrapping up and returning the mic, you and patrick head for lunch in the players food hall. "i can't believe you." you laugh, stabbing your food onto your fork and bringing it to your mouth. patrick's ankle leaning against yours under the table. "what? he asked me a question so i told the truth, you are the reason i've improved." patrick mumbles through full mouth, shaking your head at him, his leg rubbing against yours. "you're making it so obvious though." you return, patrick shrugging as he sips on his gatorade. "can men and women not be friends?" he jokes. "so we're friends are we?"

patrick laughs as he cuts up his food. "you're my best friend, among other things." you so badly want to press, ask him for specifics, know how he views you and your relationship. but you don't, very aware of the amount of bodies around you, you drop the subject. finishing up your food, the two of you head back to the dressing room, readying yourselves to leave for the day. "i just wanna have a shower and get changed." you smile, pulling a towel and spare clothes from your bag, walking over to the private shower cubicle. placing your towel and clothes on the hook, undressing and slipping under the water. sighing as the warm water drips down your skin. washing the soap down the drain as you stand there still for a short while, before the handle of the cubicle moves and patrick closes the door behind you. "patrick, i swear." you laugh quietly, watching him remove his own clothes and place them on the hook. joining you under the water as his hands wrap around your waist. "what? i can leave if you really want." patrick mumbles into your neck as the water falls over you both. melting into his grip as you pull him down to your lips. reaching between you both to stroke his exposed cock, already hard at the sight of you. quiet groans fall into your mouth as you pump him between your bodies.

in one movement, patrick spins you round, your chest pushed against the cold tiles. hands up against the wall beside your head, ass pushed out towards him. patrick kicks your ankles open, hitting his dick against you before sliding in. his hand moving around you, wrapping around your mouth to hold in your moans. his free hand gripping your hip as he pounds into your cunt, your head falling back onto his shoulder. your bodies sliding together with ease from the warm water covering you both. "you're so fucking perfect, baby, my god." patrick mutters into your ear, not caring about the sound of his hips hitting against your ass as he slips in and out of you. peppering the side of your face and neck in wet kisses, lightly biting at the skin on your earlobe. the publicness and ability to get caught only spurring you both on, the band in your stomach being stretched further with every thrust of his cock inside your walls. "patrick, fuck- m'gonna cum." you mumble through his fingers. "show, don't tell." patrick instructs, hand slipping from your mouth to your throat. tightening his grip on the sides as he feels you clench around his cock. drawing blood from your bottom lip as you attempt to hold in the sounds forming in your throat. patrick's grip moving to your waist, holding you up as your body jolts around him. "good girl."

patrick pounds into you harder, pulling your ass backwards to meet him in the middle of every thrust. his short nails digging into the skin of your hips as he pushes into you once more, filling you up with his cum as his head falls onto your shoulder. holding himself inside of you as the two of you calm your breathing together. whining at the emptiness once he slips out of you, the water washing away any remaining proof of sex as patrick turns you around, holding you in his arms. "you've ruined sex for me forever, no one will ever compare." patrick laughs lightly to you, foreheads pressed against each other. "maybe you'll just have to keep having sex with me forever then." something you'd never say if you weren't coming down from your fuck high, a genuine smile forms on patrick's face at your words. "sounds good to me." turning off the shower as you both dry yourself on your towel, getting dressed and letting patrick leave the cubicle first, following after a few minutes later. the two of you grabbing your things and heading over to his car, starting the drive back to your hotel. "how's it going, with him?" patrick asks, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. chewing the inside of your lip as you respond. "it's fine, he's clearly missed me as he's all over me," patrick sharply inhales at the idea of someone else touching your skin, kissing your lips, trying to downplay his reaction as he keeps driving. "but it's draining, very grateful for all the press and parties and practise to distract me." you continue, placing your hand over the top of his on your leg, wrapping your fingers around his. "what about you, with her?"

"luckily she knows a lot of people here, so she's got plans all the time that don't include me. but i just miss you most of the time." patrick squeezes your thigh. hiding your smile from him, hiding any form of admission of feelings slipping through. lifting his hand up to your lips, placing a soft kiss to his palm. leaning your face into his hand as he looks over to you during a red light. "i miss you too." your cheeks are flushed slightly, placing his hand back down on your thigh. "are we terrible people?" you laugh, readjusting to sit cross legged on the passenger seat, his hand still resting on your inner thigh. "maybe, but you know, you can't help how you feel." patrick states, looking to the road as he drives down the street. how you feel. the words linger in your mind, wanting to assume he means how he feels about sleeping with you, knowing neither of you can resist each other. but his words trigger something within you, you finally realise. sitting here in his car, caressing each others skin so carelessly, so naturally, you realise that have feelings for patrick. you like the way he smells after a tennis match, how he always has to be touching your skin, how he looks at you. your breathing increasing in pace, looking over to him as your mind keeps running. you love the way he says your name, how he always brings you a glass of water when you're thirsty, how he ties your shoelaces for you when they come undone. mouth slightly agape, wondering if he too feels the same.

the guilt washes over you when you leave patrick's car, arriving at your hotel. after two months of patrick and no remorse, it all hits you now. it was easier to ignore when it was just sex, but on one random car journey, it hits you like a ton of bricks. you've caught feelings for patrick zweig. heading to the hotel bar, ordering a drink and sitting alone on a table by the window, collecting your thoughts. fiddling with your lower lip, deep in thought, feeling the cut on your skin. shit. you drew blood holding in your noises in the shower, and now have to develop a lie to tell your boyfriend. shaking your head at yourself, truly now feeling like a terrible person. it's only now that you consider the fact that you'll of course have to break up with him. how could you possibly look at him the same knowing he'll never be patrick? he'll never make your heart skip a beat with just a smirk, never touch you like him, never make you feel like patrick does. the guilt almost consumes you, hoping the alcohol will numb some of the pain. snapping out of your obsessive thoughts to the sound of your phone pinging.

patrick: already can't wait to see u tomorrow

eyes fluttering closed, a sea of butterflies filling up your stomach at the words on your screen from patrick. how could you not see it? how could you not realise you were falling for him, knowing he was your first thought every morning and the last at every night.

you: me too baby <3

you text each other like lovers, as though if anyone could read your messages or see the way you are alone together, they'd assume you were deeply in love. finishing your drink, you start the dreaded walk up to your shared hotel room. unlocking the door, your boyfriend sat on the couch watching tv. seeing his teethy grin spread across his face as you walk into the room. more guilt. it's like your body is punishing you for all the days you didn't feel any remorse, you're feeling it all built up now. every inch of your body filled with the feeling. you're so angry at yourself, for one, letting it go this far with patrick without seeing the signs, but two, not accepting the fact that what you were doing was wrong. so wrong, so unforgivable, you were hurting someone so deeply and never even giving it a second thought. and the worst part about it was that you knew full well, you'd be all over patrick the second you got him alone tomorrow.

things stayed the same until the day before the quarter finals, both you and patrick advancing to that stage. seeing each other every chance you could before going home to your partners and acting like everything was fine. you had a day off before the quarter final, getting in some practise with your coach in the morning before spending the rest of the day off. entering your hotel room, showering and slipping into a hoodie and shorts. joining your boyfriend on the couch, turning off the tv and sitting to face him, him doing the same. "i need to talk to you about something." you knew it was time, your feelings had been eating you up. you'd barely been eating or sleeping, too focused on the guilt of the taste of patrick lingering on your mouth as you kissed your boyfriend goodnight. "okay." he smiles to you, still none the wiser. "i'm breaking up with you." you finally let out the words, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie, just about able to look him in the eyes. watching his body slump slowly, his eyes glossing over. "why?" he asks you, his words shaky but calm, not shouting or arguing, just wanting to know the reasons why. "i have feelings for someone else, it's nothing you did, it just happened. i'm so sorry." your bottom lip is between your teeth, so ashamed to be admitting the truth, but part of you grateful, the guilt finally dissipating. "who?" he returns, through gritted teeth. "are you sure you want to know?" you ask, hoping he wouldn't. he simply nods his head, feeling you owe him the answers to any of his questions, you tell him. he scoffs as he hears patrick's name fall from your lips. "god, i'm so naive. have you fucked him?" his sudden harshness takes you back, pulling your knees up to your chest, your eyes now glossing over, nodding your head. "wow." is all that comes back to you.

the two of you sit in silence for a short while, before he finally stands. "well, i'm sorry too, that i couldn't be what you wanted. does his girlfriend know?" he asks, pacing around the room. "i don't know, i don't think so." you respond, standing now too. "christ, how many people did you need to hurt?" his words cut you like a knife, immediately starting to pack up the things of yours in the room. "i'm gonna go, i'm so sorry, i never meant to hurt anyone." he half scoffs at your words, opening the door for you as you bunch your belongings under your arms, walking out the door. both of you saying final goodbyes and leaving each other for the last time. dragging all your bags into your uber, you rush to the hotel the players are assigned to. tears finally falling from your eyes once you enter the room. letting yourself feel every feeling you've held in for the past few weeks, losing yourself to emotion as they all come pouring out of you.

cleaning yourself up after a few hours, texting patrick and asking him to come to your hotel. he shows up half an hour later, knocking on your door. pulling him into the room, pulling his lips to yours as the two of you fall onto the bed. pulling himself from you as the two of you sit on the edge of the bed. "what's wrong? you look like you've been crying." he asks, placing a soft kiss to your temple. "i broke up with him." patrick's mouth falls open slightly in reaction. his mind running quicker than he can keep up with. not able to focus on one particular thought, he rushes out his words. "why did you do that?" he's harsher than he would have liked, not being able to focus hard enough to properly form sentences he would rather say. shocked you move slightly further away from his grip. "you, patrick. you're why." neither of you had ever admitted any feelings to each other, you'd barely admitted them to yourselves, let alone sharing them. but those words leaving your lips were all the admission patrick needed. he was very aware he felt the same, but he also knew that it would be too good to be true. patrick was prone to self-sabotage, he did it to protect himself from getting hurt in the long run. "i never asked you to do that." it's almost involuntary the harsh tone in which he's speaking, deep down he wants nothing more than to kiss you and run home to break off his own relationship to be with you. but his mind is singlehandedly running his ability to consider that an actual option in this scenario.

"i know you didn't." nearly matching his tone as you try to distract yourself from the tears welling up in your eyes. "i just thought.." trailing off as your words soften. "you thought what? that we'd dump our partners and run off into the sunset?" you can't believe the words coming from him, never has he been so harsh to you, so cold. "no i just, i thought you liked me." your eyes unable to look at him anymore, a single tear dropping onto the mattress from your eyes. "it's not that easy. this just complicates it even more. i never told you i'd break up with my girlfriend." patrick wishing he could stop himself, slap himself out of it and realise what he was doing. but he couldn't, couldn't pause and consider what he was pushing away. "why are you being like this?" you respond, words so quiet as you meet his gaze again. "we're just sleeping together, okay? was that not enough for you?" patrick standing up from the bed, his voice slightly raised. his words cutting through your skin like a knife, shaking your head slightly, unable to stop the tears now. "just leave patrick, please." your words shaky, lip quivering. "whatever." he leaves with a slam of the door. falling onto your back on the bed, crying out any remaining tears as your body curls up into a ball.

waking up to the sun rising the next morning, sadness turned to anger in the night spent alone. focusing all of your energy onto the match you were playing later today, jumping out of bed with a point to prove. soothing your puffy eyes and hiding your dark circles with light make-up. ubering to the venue and getting in a few hours with your hitting partner before readying yourself for your match. luckily avoiding patrick, who's match was happening at the same time as yours. sitting in your private dressing room, leg bouncing as you wait for the call to head to the court.

patrick: good luck champ

a text from patrick only spurs your anger more, ignoring the message and cracking your neck. the knock comes shortly after, slinging your racket bag over your shoulder as you walk down the hall. white dress with built in shorts standing opposite your opponent, bouncing side to side as the match starts. letting all of your anger out on the court, heavy grunts escaping you. your emotions fuelling your game as you win the first two sets, screaming out at your win. earning your place in the semi finals, asking your coach quickly about patrick's match. "third set is just starting, he won the first." rushing your way through your post match interview on the court, catching the end of patrick's match from the tunnel of the players entrance. arms folded, watching intently as you witness patrick fumble the final set. looking on as patrick's racket is smacked against the ground repeatedly, clearly frustrated with his loss. the racket is thrown across the court as he begrudgingly shakes the hand of his competitor. smirking from the sidelines as he picks up his bag, walking in your direction. slowing down slightly as he reaches you. he can tell you won just by the smug smile on your face as you stare him down. his big hands grabbing hold of your forearm as he drags you down the tunnel with him towards his dressing room.

struggling to free yourself from his grip as he slams the door behind you both. "what the fuck are you doing?" you shout, pushing him away from you once in the private space. the anger he felt on the court lifting as a devilish smirk spreads across his face. heavy hands cupping your face as his lips crash onto yours. hopelessly trying to push him off but not succeeding, your body desperate for your fix of him. your bodies fight against each other, pushing and pulling one another around the room, fighting for control. crashing into lockers and walls, tongues swirling around mouths. patrick pushing off all the items on the table in the corner, lifting you up to sit on the edge, pulling his tank over his head. grabbing the hem of your dress, attempting to pull it over your body but failing. "why can't i get this fucking thing off?" he struggles again, letting you slip it down yourself. "the shorts are built in." you half laugh at his frustration, fingers scratching down the skin of his arms. "stupid fucking thing." he laughs, lips attaching to yours again as he pushes his shorts and boxers down his legs. hooking his fingers around your underwear to pull them down, discarding them on the floor beneath you. pulling you further to the edge of the table as he pushes himself into you immediately, bottoming out. the table banging against the wall as he pounds into you, any anger left over working through his body to fuck you harder than he ever has.

bruising the skin on your hips as his hands dig in, slapping his crotch against yours. legs wrapping around his waist, ankles crossed behind his back. moans swallowed by each other in the sloppy kisses, foreheads pressed together as your nails scratch the length of his spine. "feel so fucking good baby." patrick mumbles into your neck, sucking on the skin. sweat dripping down your bodies, hair sticking to skin, his musk filling your nose. biting down on his shoulder as his hands slip underneath your ass, carrying you to the wall, your back pushed against it. your spine hitting against the cold wall with every thrust, his hands massaging the fat of your ass as he bucks his hips upwards into you at raw speed. his grasp on your skin pushing you up and down with his thrusts, bouncing on his cock as his tip hits your g-spot. the grip you have around his neck tightening as his thrusts grow sloppy, skin slapping echoing around the room as heavy groans fill the empty space. without warning his cum shoots into you, a drawn out groan leaving his lips as he pushes his weight onto you against the wall. slowly unwrapping your legs from his waist as he pulls out of you and places you on the floor. his body still weighing against you, his face nestled in your hair as you return to reality. throwing a towel down on the bench in the room, patrick sits and pulls you onto his lap. feeling his cock twitch as his hard on starts to calm, soft kisses placed on your face.

sitting there for a few minutes, before standing up to clean yourself up and get dressed. patrick following suit, cleaning up the table slightly. you're ready long before he is, waiting for him to slip his tank back onto his body. "don't you need to go find your girlfriend?" you tease, aiming to make him uncomfortable, seeking some revenge for his behaviour last night. you're expecting a laugh, a smirk, anything, but all he does is tense up. "don't talk about her." he whispers through gritted teeth. you're taken back, his words are harsh, protective, not like how he usually speaks. "i-i thought-" you start, rushing out words in attempt to understand. "i'm still with her." he spits out, the words hitting your chest as if he stabbed them into your skin. "i'm not breaking up with her, okay? you need to get that into your head." you've never heard patrick so harsh, so pointed. the thoughts are spinning around your mind, making you lightheaded. patrick was unable to stop himself, his self-sabotaging and attempts to protect himself from possible risk winning out. "if you want me, this is what you get. i'm not leaving her, not for you, not for anyone." your body is slumping, legs giving out on you as you fall onto the bench below you. all the words, all the affection, every glimpse of feeling patrick has ever showed you slowly slipping away as this unemotional version of him appears in his place. "it's second best, or nothing at all." his chest rising and falling as he looks to you.

patrick was different. he made you feel things no one ever had, made you feel electric. looking up to him through half-lidded eyes, breathing out sharply. both of you knowing you'd never be able to say no to him. you'd rather have him in some way than not at all. a single tear threatens to fall as you whisper.

"second best it is."

#challengers #challengers fic #challengers au #patrick zweig #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x reader #josh o'connor

420 notes · View notes

plaguechyld · 7 months ago

Note

Omggg finally a blog with dom reader instead of sub!! I'm so excited I don't know what to even request with all the thoughts in my head! I'm into power play, spanking, dumbification, praise kink and overstimulation. I can't think of a storyline but you can choose one of any of those kny characters (muzan, kokushibo, giyuu, yoriichi or kagaya ) thanks!

i’m glad you’re excited!! All of these are right up my alley too lol

first giyuu work of the blog?? Lets goooo (reader is uppermoon two along with douma)

cw: sub!giyuu, dom!gn!reader, demon!reader, uppermoon!reader, praise, spanking, dumbification, overstim, manhandling, crying, reader is said to have an angelic appearance, you/your used for reader, plot, fighting is flirting, reader has strap/cock (referred to has cock but can be interpreted at strap), demons can purr

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen, Giyuu was supposed to be in for a suicide mission, fighting uppermoon two alone.

The demon slayer had been confronted by the demon, you, in the dead of night when he was all alone on a patrol of the outskirts of a town in the wild lands of Japan’s countryside.

The first thing he noticed about you, embarrassingly enough, was how stunning your appearance is. Still, that didn’t stop him from drawing his katana from its sheath and baring it at you.

Giyuu swallowed when he saw your eyes, how could he not? They were beautiful after all, though they held the demonic inscription of uppermoon two.

The battle would be bloody, he knew. Your strength outweighed his by an obscene amount, your flesh could mend itself back together within mere seconds and your stamina was nearly unlimited, something he would soon come to see in a different light.

A soft smile played on your mouth, lips tugged up in a gentle manner as the skin around your eyes crinkle slightly. Each blow the hashira dealt was easily sidestepped by you, making Giyuu somewhat enchanted by you despite himself.

Your movements were so graceful, making you look like a living angel as you danced through the entourage of blade slashes directed at you.

Your smile never fades as you gradually get closer and closer to Giyuu despite him thinking that he has quite a handle at keeping you at a fair distance. The elation surprised him and he found himself soon unable to keep you more than a few feet away from him.

Sweat started beading on his forehead as he tried harder, channeling every skill he knew of from both his breathing style and swordsmanship in general. But despite the worry he was feeling at your nearing presence, you didn’t intend him any harm, you just had to exhaust the hashira to the point where he couldn’t fight back any longer.

Truth be told you found him absolutely beautiful, those deep sapphire eyes and dark black hair framing his pale face. Those fluid water-like movements, a signature of water breathing users, just looked so much better when it was Giyuu moving in that way.

In your century of life you have come across many different demons, demon slayers and normal mortals.. Even playing around with a handful that you found physically attractive, though none ever tugged at any heartstrings of yours, nor achieved a second glance.

This human was different, he was undeniably handsome but also his quiet nature intrigued you.

Mortals and even demons varied in personality, of course. But when they were in the presence of you they either become obnoxiously loud, crying and screaming and whatnot. Either that or they would cower in fear, not even daring to speak a word to you, causing you to quickly become bored with their existence.

But Giyuu was different, he was quiet, not screaming at you for your existence but at the same time his silence was not driven by fear. No, it was driven by the pure focus driving him forward.

Undoubtedly Giyuu harbored some hate towards you merely for the fact you were a demon. It didn’t bother you, however. He was respectful in his fight, never once did an insult slip past his plush lips which you found to be quite a pleasing change of pace.

And so you let him fight, let him display his years of training in such a gorgeous way.

Giyuu wasn’t completely unaware of your silent musing, he noticed the way you gazed at him with dreamy eyes. He saw the way you allowed his every attack to finish, even if it never hit you.

Those small things go unnoticed by many, so many that it has annoyed you for multiple decades. But you knew that Giyuu saw them and that only fueled your interest in him.

The fight was quiet, only the soft rustling of fabric, impact against grass and sword slashes swinging through the air.

But at the same time it spoke louder than any word could. The soft dance you two were in together grew closer and closer like it was nearing its grand finish, however that end would not be in death nor would it come that night.

The both of you seemed to look past the slashing of Giyuu’s sword, focusing on the small gestures of movement that brought a soft hue of pink to the hashira’s ears.

Your hand would graze his blade for a moment before he danced away from you again. He wasn’t that easy to woo, you found, which made you try even more. But at the same time Giyuu never rejected you, no. He was just putting on a show, a beautiful one at that.

The two of you had lived a life of darkness and bloodshed so a meeting such as this was only appropriate, no? To many others it would appear that the hashira’s fate was sealed and in a way it was, though there was no promise of death when he was with you.

It was important for the first promise between them to remain silent, not spoken aloud. The words in early days of meeting are unimportant in such a world, the quiet bond that was being built was much more precious, like a small defenseless thing that you wanted to shelter. It was valuable to you, you realized.

In some ways Giyuu felt the same. He just couldn’t help it, he was lonely. He had been lonely since childhood so the promise from such a seemingly… angelic demon seemed tempting to him. That temptation was already drawing him in, he had fallen to it, how could he not? You were so pleasing to be in the presence of. Despite the clear warning of the kanji inscribed in your beautiful e/c eyes the hashira found himself unable to pull away.

You welcomed him, you welcomed him to you, ignoring the biological hatred between the two of you because why would that matter? You had all eternity to have whatever you desired, why would principles make it any different?

The need, no matter how faint, was all too visible to you. Giyuu didn’t hide it from you, never averting his gaze from your own as if he wanted to drive your primal hunger for him. He didn’t fear your fangs nor your sharp nails that could dig into his flesh if he were to make a single misstep.

As his stamina ran out his muscles began to ache, his movements were growing more sluggish from their dance dragging on too long for his human body to handle.

This notion didn’t slip past your notice, after all the two of you were already so in tune with each other despite never speaking a word.

You let him drop right into your arms from fatigue and somehow Giyuu didn’t find himself afraid of what was to come.

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

Slept left Giyuu after some hours of sleeping. He found himself waking up in a lavish western style bed. The room was comfortable, having a nice scent of something like vanilla and cinnamon.

The hashira found that couldn’t bring himself to sit up out of the bed, feeling too content to even consider it much.

Your presence was easy to sense within the home due to the fact you didn’t bother to mask it from the demon slayer. The trust between the two of you was oddly strong despite the strange nature of its founding.

It didn’t alarm Giyuu when you entered what he could only assume to be a guest bedroom. In your hands was a bowl of pork cutlet, well seasoned with some vegetables on the side. The exhausted demon slayer took the bowl of food with a thankful nod.

As he ate he was able to hear your voice for the first time as you asked him a simple question.

“Your name?” ah, of course your voice would be as attractive as your appearance. The mere sound of it had turned the tips of Giyuu’s ears pink once more as he replied in a soft voice.

“Tomioka Giyuu.” It was a short response but he was happy to see that you didn’t mind his lack of verbalization. You gave him your name in return and he nodded, finishing up his meal with eagerness.

You chuckle softly as you take his empty bowl away and at the same time set down a glass of water. Giyuu smiled softly to himself, hiding it behind the rim of the cup as he took a grateful drink.

This was some of the most gentle treatment he had received after years of tough training, bloodshed and ostracization from his fellow slayers. So he couldn’t help but feel at ease around you, despite your status as an uppermoon demon.

You couldn’t help but feel similarly with his own status as a high ranking demon slayer, a hashira. The two of you didn’t feel like you were in danger when you were around each other which was out of the ordinary but at the same time pleasing.

It was quite comforting to finally be able to form a meaningful connection with someone after all these years.

The wounds he had allowed himself to sustain during a recent mission were now rebandaged, Giyuu noticed. You had spent the time wrapping his arm and waist in fresh white bandages, making the hashira feel a warmth growing in his chest.

Those seemingly small things were quite a gentle and thoughtful thing for a demon to even consider doing, he thought. So the fact that you did it made it all the more special to him.

You had left Giyuu to his thoughts for a little while as you cleaned his dish before putting it away.

You returned to his side not long after and this time the two of you didn’t stay separated for long. Soon you were seated on the comfortable duvet cover of the bed Giyuu had been resting in, looking over at him.

A slight shift in his posture edged his hand just a little closer to your body, a silent invitation for you to take hold of it.

And that you did, your cooler hand slipped into his rather warm and calloused one, gently running your thumb over the top of it as Giyuu allowed his deep blue eyes to flutter shut. Soft touches were so rare in Giyuu’s profession and he was really feeling that fact now.

Some might consider him touch starved, which he couldn’t disagree with. So when you gave him that gentle touch Giyuu could find himself craving more and more. He didn’t care about being greedy and honestly, neither did you.

So a simple hand touch soon turned into you rubbing his arm then to the two of you in a joined embrace on that soft bed. It was painfully comfortable, lying there with Giyuu. So the two of you remained wrapped in each other’s arms for a while longer.

Your hands eventually found his dark black hair, undoing the ponytail it was currently in, letting it hang loose. Giyuu hummed in question only to be met by you slipping down into a lying position on the bed and opening your arms for him.

Who was he to refuse the demon that took him in? So of course he allowed his body to sink against your’s, letting out a soft breath of content when you begin rubbing slow circles on his back. It didn’t bother him that he was without a shirt at that moment, not at all.

All that mattered was being snuggled against you, being pressed so comfortingly against your demonic body. Giyuu loved that you welcomed him into your arms, that you rubbed his back and tended to his wounds. That you cared to make him feel this way.

And maybe.. Perhaps you would also care enough to make him feel better in another way. That thought seeped into his mind with no warning nor invitation but once it was in it made itself a home. Giyuu couldn’t get the thought of you doing such a sinful and loving thing.

Your eyes were busy gazing at his face, admiring his beautiful features. Once he looks up at you he instantly notices how you’re watching him with that sweet look on your face. Instantly he felt blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. You giggle softly at his reaction and cup his cheeks in your hands, gently squeezing them.

“May I?” you inquire with a quiet breath before smiling when Giyuu nods his head. Your lips meet his own soft ones in a tender kiss.

It’s calm at first until Giyuu leans into it more, urging you to take that next step. Of course, who were you to deny him? So your tongue meets his own, exploring his mouth for the first time that night.

Giyuu was so needy yet so inexperienced, he didn’t know where to place his hands and was messily copying the motions of your tongue.

So you take the lead, your hands holding his waist possessively, rubbing all over his skin and bandages with a firm touch.

He tasted so sweet and his little muffled whines were so adorable to listen to. It was so hard to take this slow but you knew that he needed it that way, despite his cold facade he was quite a sensitive thing.

His body remained on top of yours but in no way was the hashira in control, he had relinquished that the moment he fell into your arms.

You eventually sat up with Giyuu in your lap, clinging to you like you’d vanish if he were to let go.

Giyuu felt his air supply running low so reluctantly he parted from your lips, gasping for breath soon after. Your smile never faded and your hands never left his body, they rubbed his waist slowly before eventually grasping it in full.

Your grip wasn’t particularly firm nor possessive at the moment and even so Giyuu could feel warmth pooling in his tummy from the mere touch. It wasn’t long before you sunk your lips back against his, pulling him into another searing kiss.

It was just so perfect that the hashira couldn’t resist attempting to clumsily roll his hips, not knowing what to do but feeling a tightness growing in his pants. After your lips separate for a second time you don’t waste a moment in placing hands on Giyuu’s hips to guide him properly.

A soft whimper escaped his lips, it was breathy and pure, so painfully pure to you. You had to have more, Giyuu was just so stunning when he was like this, after all. Your hands picked up the pace, making the slayer gasp in moderate surprise before leaning his head into the crook of your neck.

You didn’t mind because in that position you could hear each and every sound that Giyuu let out. Every breathy gasp and quiet whimper were easily picked up by you, driving you forward.

Giyuu bit down on his bottom lip out of pure instinct. He was practically in heaven, or so he thought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself- or you, from continuing the passion that was slowly unfolding in this quaint bedroom; hidden away from the rest of Japan.

“Please, more.” he whispers to you in an almost bashful tone. You knew exactly what he desired and you weren’t about to deny your beautiful human anything, at least not yet. So you obey, unbuckling his belt and “accidentally” brushing your hand against the prominent bulge in his dark black pants.

Each touch of that nature had the water hashira tensing and sucking in a breath of surprise and need. You just had this air about you; it was driving him insane. If you could just do it, touch him there; where he needs it-

Giyuu squeaks at the soft smack that was laid against his now bare thigh. Your hand was quick to rub the soft skin there, of course; but it served as a reminder to be good, to not go off on his own. He needs to listen to you, of course he does; he has no idea what to do.

“Shh, just follow my lead. Listen, baby.” you mutter in reply to his soft pleading sounds. Giyuu swallows before nodding his head, he knows that he has to be good for you to get what he wants, somehow.

Ah, but it was so hard! He was sitting in your lap in only his fundoshi, rolling his hips at a pace you control and to top it off you were still fully clothed. Giyuu merely buried his face even more so against your neck, choosing to stay quiet.

But that just wouldn’t do, would it? No; he needs to voice what he wants with you. You shift him in your lap, placing your thigh between his own so that he can get more friction against his bulge as you whisper teasingly in his ear.

“You want something, what is it?” he tenses slightly as his cheeks flush more. He should’ve known that you would figure it out; after all he wasn’t good at hiding anything from you, clearly. Swallowing his shyness after a moment he replies,

“You still.. Have all your clothing on…” so that was what he was thinking about? How sweet. You chuckle in light amusement before giving him one guided hip roll against your thigh.

“Then take it off.” you reply without missing a beat, making the hashira pause and look up at you with slightly glazed over blue eyes and a confused expression on his face. However that confusion soon turns into blush as he looks down- avoiding your gaze as he nods his head.

With trembling hands he pulls both your kimono and under-kimono open, revealing your chest to his flustered but oh so hungry gaze. You had removed your haori long before settling down in bed with the hashira so now all that remained was your kimono, obi and hakama pants.

Next Giyuu unties your obi with unsure hands. You take the fabric from him and look into his eyes, clearly uninterested in what becomes of it because of the lust that was starting to get to you.

The hashira swallows before continuing to help you undress and slowly, piece by piece, your stunning body is revealed.

But he can’t have all of the fun, can he? So you toy with the edge of his fundoshi for a little while, making Giyuu blush even further before eventually pulling it off. The hashira instinctually covers his erection with his hands, embarrassment flooding through his face.

You smirk softly and take his hands in yours, bringing them away from covering anything. You lay soft kisses on his knuckles as well, smiling at the way he was blushing because of it.

A soft whisper, or rather plea of your name here and there, had your patience nearly snapping. But you had to remind yourself that your baby didn’t know any better, not yet. Giyuu was just calling out for you, wanting you closer, wanting more of your touch; wanting more of you.

“Press your back to my chest.” you instruct in a calm voice, Why were you so calm and collected? Giyuu was blushing so much that he thought his skin was on fire at this point. You really were going to ruin him; though he obeys nonetheless. With his back flush against your chest you wrap your arms loosely around his waist.

You slide one hand to his erect cock while the other trails further up, playing with one of his soft pink nipples.

A light pinch with the first stroke of his cock has Giyuu’s hands flying up to cover his mouth. But even then he isn’t able to hide his squeal from you. You rub your hand up and down the length of his dick, occasionally circling his tip with the pad of your thumb.

“None of that now, darlin’. I want to hear every sound you make.” you whisper, your voice almost a soft hiss. You had to resist being just a bit harsher in your words with him because you knew Giyuu wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

Besides, you had other things planned for tonight…

Giyuu nods meekly as he lowers his hands, instead balling them up into fists as your hand picks up its pace. Another moan is pulled out of the hashira as you give his nipple a sharp tug.

Ah, his bare shoulder is just too tempting for you to not bite… So you lean in and sink your teeth, albeit quite gently for a demon, into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from him.

“HnGAH?!~” another bite, another squeal or cry. It was an addicting cycle but you eventually began licking over the marks you had already left, not wanting to be too rough quite yet. Your hand also never stopped, driving Giyuu closer and closer to orgasming.

Your fingers leave his chest to press against his lips, coaxing him to suck on them and coat them with his saliva. For what? He doesn’t know yet; though he will soon. He arches his back, hipping bucking into your hand as he feels the coil about to snap.

“Close, close!~” is all of the muffled warning you get before the hashira comes, pearly white cum staining your hand. You hum, bringing it to your lips to taste much to Giyuu’s embarrassment.

“Mmpfh!” he protests, wordlessly, due to the fingers currently playing with his tongue. You merely hum in response, finding the taste of your darling to be quite pleasant. Looking down into his flustered eyes makes you chuckle softly before giving him a kiss on the head in response.

“Sorry, hun. Couldn’t resist tasting you.” you chuckle quietly before pulling the two fingers you had in the hashira’s mouth out. They were thoroughly coated in saliva now and perfect for what you intended to use them for.

You let Giyuu get another whine out before flipping him to lay with his chest flush against yours once again.

Giyuu can’t help but feel quite comfortable in this position, being able to hold onto you- practically hug you all while feeling your bare skin against his was something he was never going to get tired of.

Your dry hand slowly finds its place on Giyuu’s perky ass, giving it a few rubs before lightly pressing your two wet fingers against his hole.

He sucks in a nervous breath, never having been penetrated before; only jacking off when he was alone at times. But you’re there to soothe his worries, of course you are. You’ve been so sweet to him this entire time.

“Shhh, it’s alright. I’ll go slow, okay?” you murmur in a soft voice before laying another gentle kiss on the hashira’s forehead. Giyuu nods his head as he looks up at you with wide trusting eyes, squeezing them shut when you push your finger in, burying the first knuckle in his warmth. He was grateful you were adding them one at a time as he wasn’t sure if he could take them in from the beginning at once.

“Ngh.. ahn~” his moans are like little mumbles as he smushes his face into your chest, hands holding onto your back as he pushes back on your finger slightly.

Soon enough another knuckle is in him, then another until your middle finger is completely inside.

Giyuu shifts his hips slightly, trying to get used to the sensation of having something inside him like this.

“I’m going to add another finger, alright?” you warn quietly, only acting when Giyuu gives a little nod in response. You slowly ease your middle finger out of him before readjusting so that both your middle and ring fingers slip into the first knuckle. Giyuu lets out a soft hum of pleasure, shifting his hips to let you know that he wants you to continue.

And you do, you ease those two fingers until they’re fully inside of him and at that point the hashira is moaning softly into your chest. You kiss the top of his head as you begin moving them in and out at a nice and slow pace, allowing him to get used to the sensations he’s receiving.

Your fingers work diligently, pressing deep within him every time you move them back in. Occasionally you spread them apart to loosen his muscles, to which he lets out a moan or whine, depending on the distance between your fingers.

Soon enough the tips of your fingers pad against a soft little bump that causes Giyuu to squeal and arch his back without warning. His eyes fly open for a moment before his body shudders and once more clings onto your own.

“Is that where it feels the best?” you ask him, not expecting to receive an answer as your fingers prod away at that sensitive spot. Giyuu can’t answer, his voice too busy being used for moans and whines from the stimulation he was receiving at your hand; or rather, fingers.

Though, to your surprise Giyuu manages a slight nod in response to your question. How sweet… you just had to tease him a little bit, of course. So you press nice and firmly against that spot, not taking your fingers off like before.

“NYAGH!~ Whu-wai-” his moans are like a sweet melody to your ears, he’s begging, pleading with you. It’s too much, he really isn’t used to these types of touches.

So when you finally return to your normal pace he slumps down against your chest again, whining and whimpering to himself.

You eventually find that he’s been stretched enough, though you’re still thoughtful about how his body will react to the real thing. So you reach over to the nightstand and retrieve a bottle of oil.

You pour a decent amount onto his already twitching hole, noticing how he squirms slightly from the feeling. You kiss him on the forehead, whispering a soft reassurance before spreading the oil along his walls.

His hands still grab at your arms, your chest, your back; whatever he can get at he’s instantly clinging onto. He whines softly when you remove your fingers, having grown used to the sensations they provided.

“It’s okay, darling..” you whisper in his ear, your voice calm with barely concealed lustful hunger. A soft sigh makes its way from Giyuu’s lips, signaling the fact he was quite content in your arms.

However a soft gasp does slip past his lips as he feels your tip pressing teasingly against his slick and oiled rim, as if you did such a thing just to hear him moan more.

Your teasing movement was met with a tremor of Giyuu’s legs and his face being pressed against your neck. It was sweet that he was acting so shyly when only a few moments ago he had pleaded with you, whispering your name in that breathy voice of his.

But you could only tease Giyuu for so long, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to take much of it without proper training.

So you gently grab ahold of his hips, squeezing them lightly as you guide him to slide down on your cock. A choked whine sounds from Giyuu’s lips as his hands squeeze you, holding on for dear life.

“Ah! Feels.. W-weird.. Mngh..” he slurs into your neck, hands still squeezing you as tightly as he could manage. You hum softly in response, eyes focusing on the hashira’s hips.

Giyuu shifts around in your lap, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. Soft whimpers leave his lips every time you readjust him slightly, getting him into place.

“Hngh.. move? P-please?” He asks, innocent eyes looking up into your own demonic inscribed one. How adorable. He was just too cute to say no to.

You hum and place a lingering kiss on Giyuu’s already sweaty forehead as you buck your hips up into him.

Soon enough you move your beauty onto the bed so that he can relax on his back, arms and legs wrapped around your body as you move your hips at a slow and smooth pace.

You thrust your hips forward, driving your cock into the hashira’s tight heat again and again so that you can soak up the sweet moans Giyuu lets out. They’re heavenly to listen to, sounding like a siren’s call.

“Good boy, you’re doing so good.” you whisper in his ear as your hips keep moving, continuing to thrust your cock deep into his hole.

Heat spreads over Giyuu’s cheeks as he clenches around your dick at the praise, making you unable to resist pressing a kiss to his soft lips again.

He bucks his hips up to meet your every thrust as you pick up the pace you were moving at, now bullying his prostate perfectly.

“Mnghh~ close…” he murmurs between moans that continue to grow in volume, signifying the truth behind his words.

“I know baby, I know.” you reply with a few more strong thrusts of your hips, driving Giyuu closer and closer to his peak.

With one more harder movement of your hips Giyuu let out a wail, cum spurting from the tip of his cock as his nails dug into your back.

You made the choice to not allow yourself to heal the marks that the demon slayer was leaving on your back, you wanted to be able to admire them in the morning after all.

However you don’t stop your hips there, no. Giyuu was just too cute and warm for you to be able to control yourself. The hashira let out a startled moan before sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his sounds.

He only let go to whine out, “t’much! ‘Soo m-muhhch!~” How sweet. It was adorable to hear him whine about everything being too intense for him to handle but at the same time thrusting his own hips up to meet your harsh pounding.

Tears cascade down the Hashira’s face, making him seem even more pathetically cute than before. His beautiful blue eyes roll back in his head as you hit that sweet spot over and over again, causing his dick to harden once more.

He can feel himself growing closer despite having come not that long ago. You were just too good, too perfectly attuned to all of his needs.

A second orgasm rips through him, causing him to arch his back and let out a filthy moan that's soon silenced by your lips connecting with his. It's so much, it's too much!

Giyuu feels like he’s drowning in the best pleasure imaginable. Though he expects you to stop now, after all you’ve gotten him to cum twice tonight and that's quite a lot for him, at least.

But you don’t, you keep going and even pick up your pace slightly. It punches sweet little “Uh uh uh”’s out of the poor thing, making it clear to you that he’s too fucked out to whine about it.

Your hand comes down to hold onto his chin, making him look up at you with that oh so pretty fucked out expression of his.

“Hm, you can take another round, can’t you baby?” you ask, the question obviously rhetorical as both him and you know that his brain is too mushy to answer you.

Instead Giyuu gives a weak whine of protest before holding onto you tighter. Though, his body is a stark contrast of the complaint he had just let out; he’s wiggling his hips, urging you to continue moving your own.

So with a soft chuckle you continue, slamming your cock deep into him, ramming so far inside that Giyuu swears that he’s seeing stars.

“AHN!- mnHN~.. ‘Omgohhhdddd!-" The hashira’s voice is broken up by his heavenly moans, unable to stop himself as you continue giving all the pleasure that you could possibly give him.

Your stamina is downright insane, though what could Giyuu expect. After all, you are one of the higher ranking uppermoon demons.

Even then, you can feel your pace slipping as your thrusts grow sloppier- more intense in pace and less like the strong, deep and practiced ones you had done prior.

“‘M close, baby. Want me to fill you up some more, Giyuu? Hmm?” You murmur into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you breathe in Giyuu’s intoxicating scent.

Giyuu nods fervently in response as he screws his deep blue eyes shut. His cheeks are all rosy and stained with dried tear marks, making him all the more adorable.

He hiccups as you finally slow your pace, hips moving slower as you cradle his shaking body close to your own.

Oh? It appeared he had cum for a third time from that sloppy pace. What a sensitive thing he is.

You kiss Giyuu’s forehead, finding it drenched in sweat with his black bangs sticking to his. He looks up at you with a dazed look when you finally slow to a stop before closing his eyes again.

A smile finds its way onto your lips as you pull out of him, making him gasp, arching his back for one last time.

Giyuu whines softly, opening those tired eyes of his again as he searches for your touch.

“Mmngh.. Stay…” The hashira murmurs, calling out for you in that sweet and quiet voice of his.

How could you refuse? So of course you wrap yourself around his weakened body.

You use a soft cloth you dipped in the lukewarm water that had been sitting out in a glass to clean the cum from Giyuu’s tummy.

Your touch is gentle as you clean him up as best you can for the moment, after all the poor thing was much too tired for a proper wash.

In return the hashira snuggles up to you, peppering shy kisses to your neck as a thank you for the night as he was much too tired to talk.

You release a quiet purr in return, it's a sweet and gentle sound which makes it soothing for Giyuu to listen to.

The hashira curls up properly after you set the cloth down, feeling quite content to be wrapped in your arms like this.

He falls asleep quite quickly, clearly your shared night of intimacy had gotten to him quite quickly.

You merely smile and lay another kiss on him, this time to the top of Giyuu’s head.

“How sweet…” You whisper to yourself. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to prolong this… relationship.

#sub character #kny smut #kny #sub kny #dom reader #demon slayer #kny x you #smut #n/sfw #giyuu #sub giyuu #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka #dumb wh0re #demon x #demon x human

982 notes · View notes

spuffybot · 5 months ago

Note

Hey hi! I saw your post about Buffy being your favorite show and what do you mean "you know what’s happening with certain characters based on the colors they are wearing"? That's SO cool and something I've never noticed despite being such a tv nerd, do you have examples?

Ohhhh my gosh I love this question!!! There are a few characters who come to mind (Buffy & Willow) but I’m gonna talk about Spike because I love to talk about Spike.

So Spike is a character who very much has a uniform and this uniform is linked to his identity. It’s important to note that this is an identity he crafted. Because as we know Spike started out as William, a man who was sensitive and kind and who was unappreciated by his peers. When he became a vampire he wanted to shed that weakness and he uses his hair, accent, and clothing to reinforce the idea that he is a strong, tough, and evil being.

Spikes official uniform is perfectly slicked back bleach blonde hair, a red shirt, dirty black jeans, combat boots and his signature leather duster. This is Spikes armor. It’s how he embodies Spike and leaves William behind. The red shirt is also quite critically linked to his “evil era” as I’ll call it.

Throughout the show there are key moments where Spike deviates from this uniform and it’s always linked to a crises of identity.

The first moment I want to talk about is Spike in the Hawaiian shirt. He’s just been chipped, he’s relying on the Scoobies for survival, the core tenants of his identity (predator, killer, lover of Drusilla, leader of a vampire gang) have all been stripped from him against his will. He looks ridiculous wearing Xanders clothes because we know it’s ridiculous (at this point) for him to just be one of the Scoobies.

This is not unlike Tabula Rasa (which has a deliciously layered theme of loss of identity both literal with memory loss and metaphoric with each of the characters personal lives) where we see Spike once again out of uniform completely and lacking his identity. Now like I said on the surface he has truly lost his identity he has no memory of who he is. But it’s no surprise that he draws the (incorrect) conclusion that he’s a vampire with a soul on a mission of redemption because for the past few months he’s been playacting that role. After Buffy died Spikes entire identity was usurped by the need to live up to her memory. He babysits Dawn. He patrols with the Scoobies. He lives a mundane and neutered life because he thinks it’s what she would have wanted. Except now she’s back. And she’s opening up to him in ways she never has before. And she’s kissed him. And this is simultaneously the most incredible and terrifying thing to ever happen to Spike because it’s all he wants but he knows deep down, it’s not who he is. He has no soul. He has no remorse. He is not good.

Now let’s talk about some less overt examples. Because the wardrobe team does an incredible job of making subtle shifts to Spikes uniform that communicate his emotional arc.

In Crush, we see Spike swap the red shirt for a light blue shirt (blue is going to be a theme!) and lighter pants. By doing this he communicates to Buffy that he’s different than before. He’s lighter and softer. A man she could be interested in. But of course, just like the uniform of Spike is a performance, this too is a performance and one Buffy sees through quickly.

Blue comes back again in Smashed, an episode where once again Spike’s identity comes into play. He has been play acting at being a Scooby but we know that’s not who he really is. Now, suddenly he finds that he can hurt Buffy without activating his chip. All of a sudden he gets a glimpse of his old self and it infuses him with confidence and purpose. The blue shirt in this episode is deep and rich, verging on purple. By wearing this shirt it shows us how deeply conflicted Spike is. The war between his selfish love for Buffy and his feelings of being trapped and controlled by his chip (and his feelings for her) is coming to a head. And of course, by showing his teeth he gives Buffy the push she needs to sleep with him.

Ok so now we get to talk about my FAVORITE season when it comes to Spikes loss of identity and the use of his uniform to depict that: season 7.

When we first see Spike in season 7 something very important is happening: his hair is completely disheveled and curly, with his natural brown roots showing. This is the closest we have ever seen Spikes hair resemble Williams hair and this is important because as we know, Spike now has a soul and so he is closer now to William than he has been in over 100 years.

When Spike finally leaves the basement he is in a bright blue shirt and lacking his signature leather duster. The duster becomes a key plot point in season 7 with the introduction of Robin Wood (considering it was his mother’s jacket and Spike killed her.) Now, Wood is a controversial character but I personally think having Spike have to reckon with the consequences of his past all tied up in the metaphor of identity that is his leather jacket is chefs kiss.

Speaking of the leather jacket, in episode 15, Get It Done we see Spike put the jacket back on for the first time since Seeing Red. This is a moment of reclamation of identity. Souled Spike is listless and guilt ridden. And as the potentials point out, even a demon can kick his ass. When he puts that jacket back on he takes back a piece of who he is and starts on the journey of self discovery that we will see him continue in Angel season 5. Because ultimately it’s not Spike or William but the fusion of the two that make Spike who he is. AND TO BRING IT BACK FULL CIRCLE while Spike reclaims the jacket, he does not bring back the red shirt.

One other interesting thing about season 7 is that Spike is no longer as wiry and muscular as he was in season 6. Now, James Marsters has said that this was deliberate on his part because he was tired of being naked on the show and figured if he stopped working out (he has also said that he created his season 6 body deliberately upon being told he would be naked all the time) then they would stop making him take his shirt off. And while this is obviously not a deliberate choice on the part of the show, I do think it’s interesting that Spike becomes less angular and sharp after he gets his soul. He releases some of the hardness that defined him emotionally and physically. Which ties in nicely to this overarching theme of identity crises. It also hints at a certain level of toxicity on set if one of your lead actors feels the need to take drastic measures to protect themselves but that’s a whole different essay.

I hope this answers the question and I would loooove to hear what other people think about this. I know I didn’t touch on every Spike moment but I wanted to highlight ones I feel are critical parts of his narrative.

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #meta #spike #william the bloody #vampire #buffy the vampire slayer costumes #wardrobe #costume design #william pratt #buffy #ask me anything

243 notes · View notes

sillygoofyqueer · 3 months ago

Note

ahhh i'm glad you like it!! and you're SPOT ON with the pampering and carrying the other peak lords do<3 whether he's in his small bird form or his big human form with large wings, doesn't matter, he's getting picked up!! (i love liu qingge playing taxi chauffeur and realizing with horror that he likes holding shen qingqiu in his arms a little too much🤭)

so so so, i was just thinking about preening, if this is a canon compliant au, and shen yuan got dropped off in another's body, he probably has no idea how to take care of his bird features, let alone his wings, like how to align the feathers, removing molted ones, dust bathing to remove excess and stale lipids so his plumage stays fluffy, or taking care of pin feathers (new pin feathers have a blood supply flowing through it, if the pin is damaged, it can bleed pretty heavily!), so he just... doesn't. no more than clumsily washing them when he bathes, anyway. and then his wings start itching, and hurting, and the feathers are all askew, and he has all these tattered clumps and pins that hurt when he picks at it and what is he supposed to do...???

naturally, people notice when the prim proper scholar's peak lord, with the perfect hair and flawless skin, has two disheveled wings trailing after him. some of them are worried it might be some sign of self-neglect (also bc it's specifically his demon features that look uncared for), and of course when shen qingqiu coughs once so to speak, yue qingyuan shows up at his doorstep; and i was thinkingggg..... different peak lords taking turns coming to his bamboo house for some casual wing care and preening..... in some bird species preening each other strengthens the trust and bond between the two, for crows it's even a big aspect of social bonding! crows preen their young, their mates, and sick or injured birds, so it's only nature that a ill-feeling shen qingqiu relies on his companions to help him when he's incapable himself...

also because i can't stop imagining shen qingqiu sprawled out across liu qingge or yue qingyuan's lap in bliss while they very carefully align his feathers and tease out molted ones, maybe freeing some matured pin feathers, feeling akin to having his hair brushed and played with while they take care of hard to reach places (thinking about how allopreening birds in nature often have less ticks/healthier plumage bc other birds reach places they can't, but shen jiu probably wouldn't let anyone touch his wings so some parts of them were always a little... messy).

some birds (like parrots) might even overpreen when exposed to strong scents, so all the peak lords quickly learn not to put on too much or heavy perfume because it makes shen qingqiu rub and dig into his wings until feathers fall out

(and i haven't even mentioned the sheer angst potential of stress plucking, but ahh this ask is already so long!!!)

OOOOH MY GOD!!! That's such a wholesome idea. I can already imagine it - and it's always a fight of who gets to preen Shen Qingqiu's wings, to the point where it actually turns into a fight (thanks to Liu Qingge) and it's almost an all-out brawl until Mu Qingfang (the only reasonable peak lord jhebus) makes everyone draw lots to see who gets to do it (- and then cheats because everyone else is so hyped up from the brawl, and his dear shixiong simply cannot deal with such stress!!). It becomes a natural thing to come up with different ways of deciding (unless Shen Qingqiu asks one, then the others just have to choke on vinegar(kiiiidding sort of)), and the peak lord who got to do it last time is not allowed to participate in the next game because that's unfair! Spitballing about how different peak lords go about offering it at first, if I may!! I think that Qi Qingqi would be actually quite gentle about it - she's used to helping out the girls with their hair and other things (shark week 😔😔), so she knows how to go about being like, "hey, I know we don't always get along but I'm going to help you out with your wings, 'kay?" and he is immediately just like "jesus christ please save me from this torment pleasepleaseplease" - kidding, kidding, he'd be much more hesitant about it because he knows that his wings are delicate and he needs to place his trust in whoever's touching them. Qi Qingqi has been...hostile towards him (because of Shen Jiu, so he can't be too offended), and this could be a moment of weakness (- jesus, bestie boo, I'm making him sound like Shen Jiu) but...his wings hurt :[ At first it's awkward, but then Shen Qingqiu relaxes and it does NOT become a gossip session (it should and it does, you can take that from my cold dead hands). Of course, Yue Qingyuan is the first to offer at all, being all like "xiao-Jiu plleeeaaasseeee 🥺" and who is Shen Qingqiu to resist those puppy dog eyes? He seems to have a history with Shen Jiu so it wouldn't be suspicious of him to deign to allow Yue Qingyuan to help out. Of course, Shen Jiu used to let Yue Qingyuan preen his wings on the streets (if we're going that route), so he's skilled and immediately makes Shen Qingqiu feel comfortable as he feels the itchy feeling in his wings FINALLY disappear with every movement the other man makes. Of course, he should be analysing so he can learn to do it himself but...he's so comfy :( When Liu Qingge first does it, it's on a mission! GASP!! Yue Qingyuan sent them on a mission together because it was a matter of both brute force that needed some form of plan involved that wasn't just "grab smash kill" (and mayyybe he wanted his shidi to bond, who cares? Shen Qingqiu has been a lot less hostile recently, and he's going to take advantage). So, they're out on this mission, and it's a LOT fucking harder than they first thought, leaving them waylaid in the forests (stereotypical I know but screw you (/j)). Shen Yuan's (for brevity's sake) wings are slowly getting worse and he's so very uncomfortable but he can't reach the worse bits so he forces himself to abandon his pride for a second and begrudgingly ask Liu Qingge for help! Obviously, Liu Qingge has no clue what he's doing and has to be guided by Shen Yuan (Liu Qingge later claims to not at all be nervous, but his hands were shaking because he didn't mind this new Shen Qingqiu and didn't reaally want to hurt him). The next time Shen Yuan needs his wings preening, Liu Qingge (literally) kicks the door down to offer to do it. He may seem overly aggressive when he manhandles the peak lord, but he's really quite gentle. I do want to yap about the other peak lords, but this answer's really long already!!! If you want me to, please let me know, because I severely want to expose myself as a Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei fan and PLEASE tell me more about the angst potential pretty please, I'll be like Yue Qingyuan at your door with puppy dog eyes. I'm INVESTED NOW, GOD.

#four answers asks #crowyuan au #of the canon compliant variety #this is my jam #I'm so in love with this #I have a love for pampering and coddling Shen Yuan #I can't help myself #I'm addicted to it #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #svsss #svsss au #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #qi qingqi #yue qingyuan

173 notes · View notes

hyuckiefluff · 2 years ago

Text

Pretty Boy pt.2

pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers word count: 4.2k content: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, marking (jaemin receiving), y/n is kinda bad at expressing her feelings lol, sweet jaemin :( a/n: *taps mic* hello? tysm for the support on part 1 of this story!! <33 i honestly didn’t think it would get so much love but as promised here’s part 2. it’s literally just smut lol but i hope it was worth the wait anyways.

part 1

As soon as you stepped into the room, Jaemin scooped you up, eliciting a loud squeal from you. You instinctively clung onto him as he effortlessly turned you around. Now that you were face to face, your legs wrapped around his torso, your heart would not calm down. He brushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen on your face, and that simple touch made your breath hitch in your throat.

"Are you really up for this? Cause once we start, I might not be able to stop," he whispered softly, his fingers finding their way to the back of your neck, drawing you closer. "I've been wanting to do this for so long, you have no idea."

It was as if he had plucked the words right out of your mind, and you couldn't help but slightly widen your eyes at his confession. He always seemed to possess a talent for articulating what you had been feeling but struggled to express. The truth was, you had indulged in countless fantasies about this very situation, even if you were hesitant to admit it.

Living with someone as attractive as Jaemin proved to be quite the challenge. In the first week after becoming roommates, you found yourself confined to the safety of your own room, too shy to venture out whenever he was around. It was kind of funny, considering that you had known each other for years, albeit without much interaction, despite being part of the same friend group. Your decision to room together was less about being close and more about the practicality of splitting the rent with someone. He happened to be the only one in your circle who needed a roommate, and that's how you ended up in this situation.

The only reason you let your guard down with him was because he turned out to be one needy guy, always craving company. And it became crystal clear that he wouldn’t let you be awkward around him when he burst into your room one day, demanding that you join him for a movie. "It feels like I live alone, and it sucks," he pouted, his need for attention catching you off guard. Still, you found his little tantrum adorable and you only became closer since that day.

As you got to know Jaemin better, you noticed that he had a naturally flirty personality. It seemed like he had an active dating life too, based on what you could gather. You wouldn't label him as a player, though you did witness him hooking up at a few parties you attended together. Still, he never brought anyone home. Your friends would insist that he treated you differently, but you didn't buy into that. Jaemin was just an affectionate person by nature, that's all. His touchy gestures had become so common that you didn't read too much into them. Whether it was him placing his hand on your waist as you walked side by side or playfully toying with your fingers when he was bored you knew it was simply his way of showing comfort and familiarity with you.

You understood him better than anyone else. There was no hidden meaning behind those gestures—it was simply his way of expressing affection in his own Jaemin-esque style.

"I... I wanted this too," you confessed, taking a deep breath. "A lot, actually."

A gorgeous smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. You couldn't help but smile back before leaning in and kissing him. The kiss was sweet and slow, as if you wanted to savor every second.

As soon as your hands found their way to Jaemin's head, you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a gentle pull. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, letting you know he enjoyed that. He led you towards the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress. It struck you that you were in his room, and for some reason, that made you a little jittery. You couldn't recall ever seeing him sneak anyone into his bedroom before, so you wondered if you were the first to do this with him in his own bed.

But the sight in front of you snapped you back to reality. Jaemin was taking off his shirt, revealing a jaw-dropping view of his torso. Sure, you had seen him shirtless in the past, but you'd never really taken the time to truly look at him. His abs were chiseled, and his chest... Well, let's just say it was firm and big. If your face wasn't already burning from the intense kissing, it would have turned an even deeper shade of crimson.

Jaemin clearly found your staring amusing because he shot you a playful smile before closing the distance between your bodies. He positioned himself on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms. His half-nakedness was a big distraction, making it harder for you to maintain eye contact.

"It's not fair that you get to ogle me while you're still fully clothed," he quipped, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. When your eyes met, he had this exaggerated mischievous smile that made you giggle and eased some of your nerves.

Jaemin had never seen you with so little clothing on, which made you hesitate for a moment. Still, you mustered up the courage and boldly grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. No bra, because who bothered with that at home, right? The look on Jaemin's face when he saw you was absolutely priceless. It was as if he couldn't decide which expression to settle on. His gaze fixated on your chest, a mix of curiosity and adoration in his eyes. He nibbled his lip before locking eyes with you.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he blurted out, followed by a dry chuckle. "It’s unbelievable." With those words hanging in the air, he leaned in to kiss you again. The sensation of your bare chests pressing together elicited equally desperate moans from both of you.

Before long, Jaemin started to peel off his sweats. But right before he could remove his boxers, a panicked expression flashed across his face. "Hold on a second," he muttered, scurrying over to one of his drawers and rummaging through it, tossing random stuff aside. After a minute or two of frantic searching, he paused and scratched his neck.

"No condoms?" you asked, finding the situation and his reaction a bit comical.

He turned to face you, his eyebrows furrowing, worried big eyes framed by his long, pretty eyelashes, and a slight pout forming on his lips. It was quite a sight, to be honest.

"I could have sworn I had some," he replied, sounding a bit defeated.

"Well, I guess we can't proceed then," you sighed dramatically, teasing him a little to see his reaction. In reality, you were on birth control and it had been months since you last had sex, plus you trusted that Jaemin was clean. You just wanted to see how he'd respond to the situation.

"I guess not," he mumbled, his mood deflating.

He looked utterly adorable in that moment, like a puppy who had been denied a treat. Unable to resist, you got up and pulled him down to your eye level, whispering something into his ear.

"How about you fuck me…raw?"

You heard the audible gulp that escaped his throat, and when you pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction, you wished you could take a picture of the look on his face. His eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, and his mouth hung open, as if he was about to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.

"W-What?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.

He never expected those words to come out of your pretty mouth.

"I'm on birth control, and I'm clean," you reassured him, trying your best not to burst into laughter as he visibly relaxed. "And you're clean too, right?"

He nodded frantically, and without wasting another moment, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was messier, more urgent, as you both stumbled backward and fell onto the bed, your lips still locked together.

All the teasing and anticipation had both of you on the edge, so you wasted no time stripping off the last bits of clothing. Jaemin's eyes were locked onto your body immediately. He let out a low curse under his breath, his gaze roaming freely over your figure, soaking in every curve and crevice. He couldn't believe his damn luck.

You also couldn't help but indulge in the sight before you. Mesmerized by how his arms flexed as he supported himself above you and how firm his chest felt under your eager hands. Every now and then, his collarbone would tease you too, sticking out just enough to dare you to leave your mark on it.

Jaemin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that made your whole body shake with anticipation. He zeroed in on your breasts, showering them with kisses and playful nibbles, the attention causing your nipples to perk up. At the same time, his hand ventured south, heading straight for the heat between your thighs. When he discovered how wet you were already, a satisfied whimper escaped his lips. Without wasting a beat, he redirected his attention down there, temporarily forgetting about your breasts. With a slow and teasing motion, he slipped off your panties, revealing just how soaked and sticky they were from your arousal. The sight seemed to drive him wild. "Fuck, this is so hot," he breathed out, his voice brimming with desire.

You were on the verge of losing your damn mind with him being so close to your most sensitive spot but not touching it. The warmth of his breath down there was overwhelming, making you forget any self-consciousness. And when you felt his mouth planting kisses on your inner thigh, you were already so far gone you could have thrown all decorum away and begged for him to do something.

"I'm not stopping until all you can say is my name," he promised with a smirk, and without any further warning, he dove right in.

You moaned loudly, caught off guard yet incredibly grateful he was bringing sweet relief to the throbbing ache in your lower stomach. His mouth wasted no time getting cozy down there, switching between kisses, sucks, and licks that sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe it had been way too long since you'd had any action, or maybe he just knew exactly what he was doing, but fuck, you were already on the brink of your first orgasm.

It was crazy how quickly things escalated. A half hour ago you were just hanging out, trying to apply mascara on him, and now he was going down on you. Na Jaemin, the same guy who always drinks his coffee with enough shots to fuel a rocket, screams his balls off during scary movies and uses up your skincare products. That guy was now eating you out like a Michelin-star meal. Who would've guessed? You didn't want to ruin the moment by overthinking how this might change things between you, though. Not that you could even form a coherent thought, with his expert tongue doing magical things down there.

Finally, his eyes met yours, and you could see a glimmer of something animalistic in them. It should've freaked you out a little, but it only turned you on even more. Unable to resist, you grabbed onto his head and pushed him down, silently pleading for him to keep going. Your orgasm was so close, Jaemin knew it too from the way your legs were shaking and closing in on his head. Your hips started to move, grinding against his face like it was second nature. And the way he moaned and groaned against you told you that he loved it.

His tongue was insane, twirling and swirling with a mind of its own. Seriously, how the hell was he so good at this? Words stumbled out of your mouth incoherently as you tried to form a sentence amidst the overwhelming sensations.

"Don't... don't stop," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desperation.

He took your plea to heart, intensifying his lapping and sucking. His grip tightened on your thighs, fingers digging deliciously into your flesh as he anchored himself to you. The combination of his insistent mouth and his tight grasp left you writhing and squirming, completely at his mercy. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself unraveling, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm. And then it hit you, a release that left you gasping for air. You recoiled ever so slightly from the overstimulation, but he didn't let up. His lips remained locked to your throbbing core, greedily savoring every last drop of your release, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

With one final kiss he finally moved away, a glistening trail of your essence still connecting you. The sight alone threatening to tip you over the edge once again. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He started crawling up towards you then.

"Has anyone..." he began, his voice low as he closed the distance between your faces, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, "told you..." his words trailed off, delivered with a deliberate slowness that was driving you crazy, "that you taste..." his face was now mere inches away from yours, his lips teasingly brushing against yours, "fucking delicious."

“Hm, really?” You let your hands wander, fingers tangling in his disheveled locks, pulling him closer.

"If you don't believe me," he whispered huskily, his lips hovering millimeters away from yours, "taste it for yourself."

He closed the remaining distance between your mouths. It was a moment of pure sensory overload, your taste mingling with his. Even though you had just cummed, you craved more of him. You needed him inside you, to fill you up and to bring him pleasure in return. So without wasting a second, you switched positions, the sudden change making him gasp in surprise. Now you were straddling him, your bare core brushed against his lower stomach and his dick pressed against your ass. The sight of your naked body on top of him was something he never thought would happen in real life, and he couldn't help but stare with his mouth hanging open. He instinctively placed his hands on your hips, caressing them gently and giving them a little squeeze, just to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream.

You whispered something in his ear, but he was so lost in the moment that he couldn't even make out the words. However, as soon as he saw you positioning his dick at your entrance, reality snapped back into focus, and his breath hitched in anticipation. He was barely inside you, just the tip, and he already felt like he was about to lose his mind. The way your brows furrowed and your plump lips parted as he stretched you out was incredibly hot, enough to make him almost cum right then and there. But he quickly shook himself out of the trance and firmly gripped your hips to help guide you down onto him.

"Fuck..." he gasped, his voice strained as he buried himself deep inside you.

He was wonderfully thick, stretching you in ways that demanded your body to adjust. You needed a moment to accommodate his size, to savor the delicious sensation of being filled so completely. He granted you the time you needed, showing an unexpected patience as if he, too, needed some time to adjust to the overwhelming tightness that enveloped him. The way you clamped around him now, it felt like an eternity since you had last been filled this good.

The pressure and friction threatened to push Jaemin right over the edge though, and the last thing he wanted was an embarrassing premature orgasm. So, thinking quickly, he flipped both of you over. He wanted nothing more than for you to ride him, but he also knew he had to set the pace to ensure he could last longer.

"Sorry, love, but you're squeezing me so damn tight in that position," he said, and you nodded in understanding. You didn’t really care about positions, all you wanted was for him to fuck you into oblivion.

And that he definitely did. Once he saw you were more comfortable, he started to move, slowly at first. It took a second to find a rhythm that felt good for both of you, but when he saw the way your face contorted in pleasure and how exquisitely tight you became around him, he knew he had found it.

“F-faster..” you moaned, and he obliged immediately.

He raised your leg a bit, resting it on his shoulder and planting a kiss on your thigh before moving. This new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, hitting all the right spots that had you moaning so pathetically loud. You couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that it was just the two of you in here, but at the same time, the thin walls made you hyper-aware of your own loudness. Guess it's time to eat your words about the noisy neighbors, huh?

Jaemin kissed you while keeping that delicious pace. He whispered both dirty and sweet words against your mouth as he rammed into you, his eyes only straying from your face to take in the sight of your bodies coming together. The room was filled with a symphony of sinful sounds that would make even the most hardened eardrums blush. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore if anyone heard. Not when Jaemin had taken it upon himself to make you feel so good. He held nothing back, unleashing a chorus of moans and whimpering that let you know just how much he was enjoying himself.

At that moment, you discovered that you really liked hearing a man become this desperate in bed. But what truly stoked your fire was knowing that you were the one responsible for reducing Jaemin to such a state. It was an ego boost like no other, sending your confidence soaring to new heights. Breaking away from the kiss, an idea took hold of you, and without warning, you swiftly flipped both of you over, seizing control.

The game for dominance was on again, and you were determined to prove just how good you could make Jaemin feel. His chest heaved, his eyes devouring the sight of you bouncing on his cock. He was utterly helpless, unable to control his expressions or the guttural groans that spilled from his lips. It was a side of him you never thought you’d ever see, his vulnerability laid bare as you pushed him to the brink of pleasure-induced tears. The intensity of the sensations made his head fall back, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as you squeezed around him deliciously.

Taking advantage of the opening, you set your sights on his neck, starting with wet kisses that gradually escalated to nibbles and gentle sucks. You quickly found his weak spot right below his ear. Every time your lips closed around that particular spot, his grip tightened on your hips, and his cock twitched inside you in response.

"Fuck... k-keep doing that," he managed to gasp out, his voice husky and strained from the exertion.

So you did, you kept sucking on all the spots that he liked and as you continued your ministrations he thrusted into you harder and more desperately edging you both closer to the release.

"I-I-m... c..." Your words trailed off into a jumble of incomprehensible sounds. The pleasure was too intense for coherent sentences to form.

"Jaemin..." The syllables of his name escaped your lips repeatedly, like a desperate mantra. This seemed to rile him up even more, prompting him to hold you tighter and unleash a frenzy of powerful thrusts that defied all restraint. He knew exactly how to hit that sweet spot, driving you crazy with each perfectly aimed thrust.

He adjusted his position, sitting up slightly to gain better control. This subtle shift allowed him to fuck deeper into you. "Jaemin, fu-—" You couldn't hold back, sinking your teeth into his shoulder and scratching at him. He was fucking you so hard into your second orgasm that you could no longer control your own body. The climax hit you with such force that it felt like a burst of stars behind your closed eyelids.

"Fuck!" he yelled and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he finally came undone, riding the waves of your orgasm until you were both spent. The intensity of the moment left you both so physically exhausted that all you could do was collapse against each other, breathless and sweaty.

You wish the post-nut clarity didn’t hit you as hard as it did , but as you mustered the courage to lift your face from Jaemin’s neck and meet his gaze, a flood of thoughts raced through your mind.

What the fuck are we now?

He seemed to grasp the unspoken thoughts that danced in your eyes, as he often did.

"Don't do that," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your nose.

"Do what?" you whispered back.

"Don't look at me as if something has changed between us," he replied, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"But something did change," you admitted weakly, your voice betraying your vulnerability.

"No, you're still you, and I'm still me. We just know each other a little more intimately now, and maybe that's for the best.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, not quite understanding. He sighed upon seeing your lost expression and decided to just let it all out.

“Yeah we had sex, and it was amazing and I so badly want to do this again I could cry but no matter what happens between us, I’m always gonna be your annoying roommate," he ruffled your hair softly.

You let out a contented sigh at his words, but doubt still lingered. "Don't you think it will be weird though?…Now that... you know," you trailed off, averting your gaze, feeling a sudden shyness.

"What? Now that you've seen what my dick looks like?" he said with a playful tone, making you laugh and gently slap his arm. "Sure, maybe you're a bit starstruck, but I promise you, it'll be fine.

"Can you be serious for a second?" you asked, rolling your eyes playfully, but he gently grabbed your chin, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I am serious. I don’t think it’ll be weird at all. I don’t know about you but I really, really enjoyed it," he confessed, his sincerity sent your heart racing, making it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings. "Y/N, I've liked you for a while now. I mean, everyone else could see it, right? I'm tired of pretending it's nothing or that I can just get over it. Living with you just makes it harder to ignore. You're the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing before I sleep. I'm sorry if this sounds rushed or random, but it's not just because of the amazing orgasm you just gave me. I've never been this serious about anything in my life, and you know me well enough to know I mean it." The words spilled out effortlessly, almost like he had rehearsed them (he totally did).

You didn't need to say a single word in response. The way you were looking at him with such genuine affection conveyed everything without the need for verbal confirmation. Jaemin was definitely the more expressive of the two when it came to feelings but he was always able to pick up on the subtle cues and actions that hinted at your affection. Despite your tough exterior and cutthroat attitude towards others, he noticed how you always softened in his presence. Your face would light up, that permanent frown vanishing, as soon as he acted silly or cracked a joke. And when it came to physical touch, he saw how guarded you were with everyone else, even your closest friends. Yet, you always welcomed his hugs and kisses freely, as if it was second nature. All these little signs had added up over time, painting a clear picture of your feelings, even if it was challenging for you to express them in words. Jaemin had picked up on those clues, cherishing each one as the evidence that confirmed what he had hoped for all along – that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

"Oh, and I meant it when I said I'd love to do it again," he added after a few seconds, trying to play it cool.

"Same here... and, uh, by the way, your mascara is all smudged," you blurted out, the realization making you both chuckle.

feedback is greatly appreciated! also feel free to send requests! i’ll try to post on here more often.

#nct x reader #jaemin moodboard #jaemin imagine #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabbles #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #nct smut #nct dream smut

2K notes · View notes

cythiraeth · 1 year ago

Text

cupid's chokehold! - i. e. the moment genshin men knew they've fallen for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x al-haitham, cyno, xiao (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: the exact moment (or process which lead to it) when genshin men knew that they are head over heels in love with you!

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, not proof-read, lighter (?) and more free form of the work this time!

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: ehe, long time no see! i'm back to life and posting, so to start i picked something that was easier to write and is slightly in a different form than my previous works, however, i hope you'll like it :> also, i'm still waiting for any work requests, so if you have any idea, feel free to messege me!!

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 1.5 k in total

al-haitham

seeing you in a pretty, elegant outfit, probably some kind of dress or suit, maybe showing your collarbones or it just being mesmerizing, it's up to you how you imagine a perfect fit ;) he is just PHYSICALLY UNABLE to take his eyes off you! the usually calm and collected al-haitham forgets how to use the ability to speak for a brief second.

the moment you left the room in which you were getting ready as he was waiting outside, he almost gasped out loud

i mean literally, this man's brain stopped working for a second

you two were supposed to attend tighnari's birthday party, and while he didn't consider it a occasion to wear something elegant, you did the opposite

that's why he was left so speechless. because he was caught by surprise! he thought you would wear your casual clothes just as he did…

but it happened, you wore one of your favorite outfits for special occasions, and he was flabbergasted

of course it's not like your look was the only reason he has fallen for you! he was definitely considering it many times before this happened, but he was living in denial.

"no, i don't actually have feelings for them. they make me feel comfortable, i crave hearing their voice or laugh and i care about them a lot, but no, we're just friends" - probably al-haitham to himself at some point in his life.

but this time, he couldn't explain his feelings in any rational way known to man. you were so stunning that his eyes shined uncontrollably when he laid them on you. he was so busy studying your silhouette, your face and your hair that he didn't even hear your first question, which was:

"and? how do i look?" you asked, opening the door but still keeping your hands on the doorframe and leaning on it. you were slightly blushed because it was quite embarrassing to let him see you like this, but if you were to be honest, you were also a little bit excited to see his reaction

so when he didn't even answer you and remained indifferent on the outside, the slightly raised corners of your mouth drooped

you just weren't aware of what he's been experiencing on the inside…

because his heart started pounding a little bit faster and he was ashamed of it but on the other hand you looked gorgeous and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what would he do if you were in relationship

(he had such a strong urge to kiss your hand like a gentleman for some reason)

"what? do i really look that bad?" you asked after you have swallowed the bitterness of your first impression

"sorry?" he said, blinking, your words drawing him out of his reverie, "did you say something?"

you snorted, annoyed by his behavior, assuming that he probably couldn't care less about your look at the moment, but at least he should try to pretend he does

but oh, how wrong you were…

when you repeated the question he only murmured something under his breath in response, so you decided to let him be

you noticed he got sweaty all of sudden, it was probably too hot for him inside, you thought, so you took the last things and you two left the house.

in reality, he wasn't feeling hot because of the temperature of course, but he was just as surprised by his own actions as you were. surprised in a slightly different way though….

cyno

talking with tighnari... he found all his confidence to talk to him about his possible feelings for you, that he could not recognize and tighnari was left speechless because of how innocent and lost in his feeling cyno looked

he was probably hanging out with tighnari someday, maybe they went out for a dinner, and somehow the topic of conversation has come down to you

for a long time he was hesitant to talk about his feeling towards you out loud but today he decided he'd try discussing it with his friend

because if not tighnari then who would be a suitable person? surely not you

also, don't think that he was aware of what he's feeling. HAHA, no. he would never

"what in your opinion y/n thinks of me…?" was his first question. he tried to choose the words carefully and say it in his normal tone but even a small sign of arousal in his voice was enough for tighnari to notice that something is up

"and why are you asking?" he wanted to make sure that his interpretation is right

"no reason in particular," his answer was quick, those words escaped his lips uncontrollably, so he had to add something "i just consider them a close friend and i want to know if they do too."

tignari almost started laughing out loud, but he controlled himself.

close friend? oh man, he is so clueless…

"are you sure that they are a "close friend?"" he was actually having some fun but at the same time he just wanted to smack himself on the forehead, he couldn't decide

"well, definitely not a "distant friend""

that's it, that's the moment when tighnari smacked his forehead

"i'll pretend i didn't hear that," he tried to be serious, but it wasn't easy. "listen, you look at them like they are your entire world. that's the kind of look people give to their lovers, not close friends!" he finally said it out loud

cyno had to blink twice to process what was just said.

he. in love. with you?

maybe? i mean, he always cared about your opinion about his jokes the most and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you… but he thought that it's normal for friends to feel this way. and to steal glances at you person when you aren't looking, and to read every book you recommend him…

"you say so?" he finally asked, resting his chin on his hands "then maybe you're right," he admitted out loud

"FINALLY" tighnari couldn't hold it any longer… he was SO relieved that his friend won't be acting like he is running around in the fog anymore… right?

"and why are you so emotional about it?" cyno was genuinely confused (pls help this man he is often so clueless)

"because by now even collei knew"

xiao

when you kept coming back after all of his attempts to push you away. he wanted to protect you, protect you from him, because for a human it would be better to stay away from his karmic debt, right? but when you remained determined to get closer to him no matter how many times he tried to disencourage you, he slowly realized that maybe, just maybe he can let you get closer to his heart than he ever let anyone to be.

in his case, there wasn't any particular situation that made him realize his feelings, it was rather a complex and long process (not really a chokehold then but shh…)

he knew you for several months despite of his numerous attempts of cutting any ties he had with you

it was just that… you were stubborn. but not in a regular way, no. your stubbornness was much less invasive and annoying, and it manifested in your constant willingness to get closer to him

however, you never imposed yourself nor did you try convincing him! you were just visiting wangshu inn regularly, maybe tried striking up a conversation a few times, even just sitting in silence was enough for you

and because of all those actions he never felt overwhelmed by your presence! actually, after some time, he just got used to it and secretly started liking it

however, there was always this silent voice in the back of his head that he shouldn't be doing this and that he's forgetting himself

so definitely, when he slowly started thinking of you in that way at the very beginning he was IN SUCH A BIG DENIAL that it's almost unbelievable

alright, he admitted it to himself, but swore to N E V E R talk to anyone about it, especially and above all, to you.

he just decided to act as if those feelings didn't exist, that's all. and it went like that for quite a long time unfortunately… (at least you can be sure that he keeps his promises at all costs!!)

and after some time, when he was surprised that they didn't just go away, a certain thought crossed his mind…

he started thinking about what ifs and imagining what could happen if he theoretically decided to tell you about his feelings

(he spent another few months on that though)

at some point he just couldn't look at you without seeing you both holding hands in his mind or stand next to you without the urge to put his hand on your shoulder (of course only in private, he would never do pda…)

but still, his karmic debt…

he was so torn between those two thoughts (there were two wolves inside of him)

but as you expect, after months of his internal struggling, and your consistency in getting closer to him and encouraging him to open up, he let his feelings win for once in his long life

(take good care of him because he deserves it)

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 23.11.2023. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝

#genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin scenarios #xiao x reader #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #genshin cyno #genshin xiao #al haitam x reader

386 notes · View notes

youngsadlesbian · 2 months ago

Note

hellooo how are you? i just read your most recent fic and got obssessed omg its so cute😩😩 a while after reading it, i had an fic idea but im not a writer, so im just passing it to you bcz i liked your writing so bad, pls honor me✋😔

what abt a fic where r is nat and bucky daughter and she has a bit of the super soldier serum and that obviously made her kinda 💪 yk? and when she's at school some girlies are falling so hard over her. you could write it over the years, like when she's 6-7 and a girl wants to hold her hand on the school break, walk around and kiss her cheek, super cute omg😭 when she's 10-11 a girl gives her chocolate and a flower and r would be so confused omg i just feel it. and of course, at 14-15 she starts to like a girl and she would be so-- like idk just imagine her coming back home after a day at school smiling and telling nat abt that girl, and nat convinces her to ask the girl out, so she takes r to buy something for the girl (idk what, i never asked someone out💔💔) and later they could date or not, ill let if for you.

omg that's so long im sorry, but pls pls do it😭😭🙏 ill be waiting so anxious for this

STRONGER HEARTS

pairing: bucky barnes x natasha romanoff x daughter!reader

summary: being the daughter of two superheroes wasn't easy, especially when you ended up inheriting a bit of your father's super soldier serum. and especially for drawing attention from other kids, even when you didn't quite understand what that meant.

a/n: idk if this turned out exactly how you wanted, but i tried my best while taking advantage of my free time at work and my burst of creativity. hope you like it, dear <3

word count: 2,6k

warnings: none, just fluff.

It started early, this whole thing about you being... different. Not just in the way your parents, Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes, were literal superheroes with more than enough stories of their own to tell. No, it started with you.

You were only six years old, and already things were starting to get confusing. Not because of school—math was math, recess was recess—but because of the way other kids, especially the girls, looked at you.

You were at recess, standing by the jungle gym, when it happened. A girl named Lily, the same age as you, came bouncing over with a big smile.

"Hi!" she chirped, her blonde pigtails bouncing.

"Hi," you said, glancing at her curiously.

Without hesitation, Lily reached out and grabbed your hand, holding it tightly.

"Come on! I want to walk with you around the playground. You’re so cute!" she declared, pulling you along.

You blinked, not quite sure how to react, but you didn’t resist either. You didn’t mind holding her hand, even if you didn’t fully understand why she wanted to. As you strolled around the playground, Lily kept looking up at you with an expression you couldn’t place. Every so often, she’d giggle and give your hand a squeeze, like holding it was some kind of special prize.

At one point, she stopped and kissed your cheek before running off with a squeal. You stood there, completely bewildered.

Later that day, you told your mom what happened.

"Mom, why did Lily hold my hand all recess and kiss my cheek?" you asked, still confused by the whole thing.

Natasha laughed softly, crouching down to your level. "Well, sweetheart, sometimes people like being close to others they find... cute. Maybe she thinks you're special."

"Special?" you scrunched your nose. "Why?"

"Because you’re you," Natasha said with a smile, ruffling your hair. "You’re going to have that effect on people."

You didn’t fully understand at the time, but you would soon learn that having an effect on people was something that followed you everywhere.

By the time you were ten, you were starting to notice that your classmates were behaving a little strangely around you. Particularly the girls. They were often staring at you, smiling shyly when you walked by, and sometimes even blushing. But the most confusing moment came on Valentine's Day that year.

You were at school, sitting at your desk, when a girl named Emily approached you, her cheeks bright red. In her hands were a small bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

"Uh... these are for you," she said, looking like she was about to explode with embarrassment.

You stared at the items she was offering, completely perplexed. "Why?"

Emily blinked, clearly not expecting that response. "Because... I like you?" she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You frowned, still not understanding. "You like me? Like... as a friend?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, like... I like like you."

Now you were even more confused. "What does that mean?"

Emily blushed even harder, pushing the flowers and chocolates into your hands before darting off. You sat there, staring at the gifts, completely dumbfounded. What were you supposed to do with them?

Later that evening, you brought the chocolates home, placing them on the kitchen table in front of your dad, who was reading the newspaper.

"Dad, what does it mean if someone gives you flowers and chocolates because they 'like like' you?" you asked, your face a picture of confusion.

Bucky lowered the paper, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. "Ah, the old 'like like' situation, huh?" He leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. "It means she has a crush on you."

You blinked. "A crush?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "She thinks you’re cute and probably wants to spend more time with you."

You stared at the chocolates in your hand, still trying to wrap your head around it. "I don’t get it. What am I supposed to do?"

Bucky chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Just be nice, and let her down easy if you're not interested."

You still didn’t fully understand what had just happened, but you nodded anyway, trusting your dad's advice. But this wasn’t the last time you’d find yourself in confusing situations like this.

It wasn’t until you turned fifteen that things really started to make sense. Or at least, you started to make sense of the feelings you’d been having for a while now.

Her name was Chloe, and she was in your class at school. She had bright eyes, a soft smile, and a laugh that made your heart race. Every day, you found yourself staring at her from across the room, completely mesmerized. You’d never felt this way before.

Whenever you were around her, you’d get flustered, your words tumbling over each other. It didn’t help that she seemed to like spending time with you, which only made your crush even worse. By the time you were halfway through the school year, you were completely and utterly obsessed.

"She’s just... so pretty," you sighed dreamily, sitting at the kitchen table one evening after school.

Natasha glanced over from where she was cooking dinner, raising an eyebrow. "Pretty, huh?"

"Yeah," you said, resting your chin in your hands. "Like, really pretty. And smart. And funny."

Bucky, sitting nearby with a book, exchanged a knowing look with Natasha.

"Sounds like someone’s got a crush," Natasha teased lightly.

Your face turned bright red, but you didn’t deny it. "What do I do? I don’t know how to talk to her without sounding like an idiot."

Natasha smiled, walking over to sit beside you. "Maybe you should ask her out."

You blinked in surprise. "Ask her out? You think I can do that?"

"Of course, you can," Natasha said with a shrug. "What’s the worst that could happen?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking it over. "What if she says no?"

"Then you move on," Bucky said, setting his book down. "But you won’t know unless you try."

It was easier said than done, though. Asking Chloe out seemed like the scariest thing in the world. But the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to. So, naturally, you turned to the people who could (theoretically) help: the Avengers.

The next day, you found yourself in the Avengers Tower, nervously pacing around as you waited for some of the team to show up. You’d decided to gather as much advice as possible before making your move.

Tony Stark was the first to arrive, sauntering into the room with his signature smirk.

"So, I hear you need help asking someone out," Tony said, folding his arms. "Lucky for you, I’m a master at this."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Here’s what you do: build her something. Like a mini Iron Man suit. Girls love that."

You blinked. "Uh... I don’t think I can build a suit."

Tony waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. Just wow her with something impressive. Trust me."

Next up was Thor, who entered with his usual dramatic flair, his hammer in hand.

"Ah, young love!" Thor boomed, clapping you on the shoulder. "The key to winning over a maiden’s heart is boldness! Sweep her off her feet! Declare your feelings loudly and with great passion!"

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. "I don’t think I should yell at her."

"Nonsense! Nothing says romance like shouting your love from the rooftops!" Thor insisted, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

As more Avengers filtered in, the advice only got more absurd. Clint suggested using arrows to spell out her name in the sky, and Bruce—though more subdued—suggested writing a thoughtful essay about your feelings. You were starting to think none of this was going to help.

It wasn’t until you sat down with your dad, Bucky, that you finally got some real advice.

"So, you’re really into this girl, huh?" Bucky asked, sitting across from you with a serious expression.

"Yeah," you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "Here’s the thing: you don’t need to do anything crazy. Just be yourself. Ask her to hang out, maybe go grab some ice cream or something simple. You don’t need fireworks or Iron Man suits. Just be honest."

You looked at him, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "You think that'll work?"

"I know it will," Bucky said with a soft smile. "She’ll appreciate the real you more than anything."

Taking your dad’s advice to heart, you finally mustered up the courage to ask Chloe out. It wasn’t as dramatic as Tony or Thor would’ve wanted, but it was honest.

"Hey, Chloe," you said one day after school, nervously rubbing the back of your neck. "Do you maybe wanna go get ice cream with me this weekend?"

Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she smiled. "I’d love to."

Your heart skipped a beat when Chloe said yes. For a moment, you were frozen, unable to process that she’d actually agreed to go out with you. But then, slowly, a wide grin spread across your face.

"Great! Um, I’ll text you the details?" you stammered, still trying to keep your cool.

Chloe nodded, her smile warm and genuine. "Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it."

As you walked away, a giddy feeling bubbled up inside you, and by the time you got home, you were practically floating. The moment you stepped into the apartment, you dropped your bag by the door and burst out, "Mom! Dad! She said yes!"

Natasha looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, a knowing smile on her face. "Told you."

Bucky was sitting nearby, his eyes lighting up with pride. "See? Told you all you had to do was be yourself."

You flopped onto the couch between them, still buzzing with excitement. "I’m going to get ice cream with Chloe. This weekend. Can you believe it?"

Natasha chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I’m happy for you, sweetheart. You did good."

"Now you just have to survive the date," Bucky teased, winking at you.

You laughed nervously. "Yeah… right."

The weekend came faster than you expected, and soon you were standing outside a little ice cream shop, waiting for Chloe to arrive. Your hands were stuffed in your pockets, and your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest.

When Chloe finally showed up, you felt your breath hitch. She looked even more beautiful than usual, with her hair down in loose waves and a light smile playing on her lips.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft as she approached.

"Hey," you replied, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. "Ready for some ice cream?"

Chloe grinned. "Definitely."

The two of you went inside, ordered your ice creams, and found a quiet spot by the window. As you sat across from her, the awkwardness you’d feared didn’t show up. Instead, you found yourself talking easily, laughing at her jokes, and feeling more comfortable than you ever thought possible.

"You know," Chloe said after a while, twirling her spoon in her cup, "I’m really glad you asked me out. I’ve kinda liked you for a while."

You blinked, taken aback. "Wait—really?"

Chloe giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, but… I guess you do."

You felt your face heat up, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from happiness. "I do. I really do."

The rest of the date went by in a blur of laughter, smiles, and shared glances that made your heart race. By the time you were walking Chloe back to her place, you were already thinking about the next time you’d see her.

When you reached her doorstep, there was a brief, sweet moment of silence between the two of you. Chloe turned to face you, her eyes soft and warm.

"I had a really great time," she said, her voice gentle.

"Me too," you replied, feeling a little breathless.

There was a pause, and then, without thinking too much about it, you leaned in and kissed her cheek. Chloe’s smile widened, and she gave you a shy wave before heading inside, leaving you standing there with the biggest grin on your face.

When you got home, your parents were waiting, both of them pretending to be casually occupied, but you knew they were dying to know how it went.

"So," Natasha said, raising an eyebrow. "How was it?"

You dropped onto the couch with a happy sigh. "It was perfect."

Bucky smirked. "Told you all you needed was to be yourself. None of that flashy stuff."

Natasha smiled warmly, sitting down next to you. "We’re proud of you. So… is there going to be a second date?"

You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. "I think so."

Just then, Tony walked into the room, raising an eyebrow. "Did I hear something about a date? Did my advice work?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please, Tony. If she’d followed your advice, she’d be building an Iron Man suit for the next three months."

Tony looked indignant. "Hey, building suits is romantic."

You laughed. "Actually, I didn’t need a suit. I just asked her out, like Dad said."

Tony sighed dramatically. "Ah, young love. So simple and pure. You’ll learn one day, kid."

Over the next few days, the Avengers couldn’t stop teasing you about the date. Clint would randomly shout "Smooth move!" whenever he saw you, and Thor kept encouraging you to "declare your love loudly, as is the Asgardian way!" But in the end, it was all in good fun, and you found yourself loving the chaotic but supportive family you had.

As your relationship with Chloe blossomed, word spread quickly throughout the Avengers Tower. It wasn’t long before all the Avengers were curious about the girl who’d captured your heart.

One day, as you were training with Steve in the gym, he glanced over at you with a grin. "So, when do we get to meet this girl of yours?"

You nearly stumbled over your own feet. "Wait—what?"

"You know," Steve continued, chuckling, "bring her around to meet the team. We’d all love to meet her."

You blushed, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I don’t know… It’s kind of a big step, introducing her to you guys."

Steve gave you a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry. We’ll behave."

You raised an eyebrow. "Will you, though? Because Tony and Thor don’t know the meaning of 'subtle.'"

Steve laughed. "Okay, fair point. But still, she sounds great. I think we’d all like her."

You thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Maybe soon."

As your relationship with Chloe continued to grow, you found yourself feeling more confident, not just in your relationship but in yourself. Your parents, Natasha and Bucky, were always there to support you, offering advice when you needed it and cheering you on from the sidelines.

One evening, as you sat with them on the couch, watching a movie, Natasha wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

"You know," she said softly, "we’re really proud of you. You’ve grown into an amazing person."

You smiled, resting your head on her shoulder. "Thanks, Mom."

Bucky nodded from the other side of the couch, his voice gentle. "We’re lucky to have you."

In that moment, surrounded by the people who loved you most, you realized just how lucky you were. You had a family that supported you, a girl who cared about you, and a future that was wide open with possibilities.

And no matter what came next, you knew you’d be ready—because you had the best parents, and the most chaotic team of superheroes, right by your side.

#bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #buckynat x reader #winterwidow x reader #bucky barnes x natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #marvel #mcu

62 notes · View notes

piastriesque · 4 months ago

Text

leave the scent fa14 x reader

⤷pairing: fernando alonso x fem!reader

⤷warnings: cheating, manipulation, suggestive

⤷summary: fernando may be a cheater but at least he smells so good

⤷word count: 1.1k

note: 'cologne' by beabadoobee inspired me to write this. i wanted to add link, but it didn't look the way i wanted it to, i didn't know how to make it smaller. anyways, it's really fun song. i apologize for any mistakes

“Mmm,” you murmured, hugging him. “You really smell so good. I absolutely love your cologne.” “I noticed,” Fernando chuckled. “The bottle of it is nearly empty. But I guess I should buy another one since you like it so much.” “Yes, please.” You rested your head on the nape of his neck to smell it better. “Speaking of scents… you smell different today.” he whispered in your ear, “Do I sense musk?” “Yes, white musk. I bought it yesterday.” “Hmm, what else do we have here?” he inhaled deeply, “Vanilla, cedarwood, bergamot, and…” “You are so good at it. I believe there’s also pear, rose, jasmine…” you were thinking “Wait. I'll just show you the packaging.” After a brief moment, the man held the perfume box in his hands. He read the product description with interest to find out what fragrance notes he did not detect. He then opened the box and slowly took the bottle out of it. Inside was a small glass rose. He had to admit that it looked quite realistic. “The bottle was the first thing that caught my eye. Look at these thorns!” you were quite excited, “This rose is tiny, but attention to detail has been maintained.” “It’s gorgeous,” he agreed. “Okay, enough about the bottle.” You put the perfume back on the shelf and walked closer to the man. “What do you think of the fragrance?” “It’s quite… intense.” “Intense? Is this a bad thing?” you laughed, but actually felt a little insecure, you really cared about his good opinion. “No. Of course not. You smell great. It was definitely a good choice,” he reassured you. “But very different from what you used before.” “I know. I guess I want to be more… seductive.” You could feel your cheeks turning red. “Seductive?” he smirked and came closer to you. You nodded, embarrassed. “If so,” he grabbed you by the chin and lifted it so that you looked into his eyes, “How about showing me how seductive you are?”

You were lying on his chest, drawing zigzags on it with your finger. You wanted this moment to last forever. “Nena,” he kissed your head, “I have to leave in a minute.” “No, please stay longer,” you pouted. “I can’t. I have to go home. Javi is sick,” he explained while stroking your hair. You weren't going to argue anymore. You knew how important his children were to him, and you understood that. Nevertheless, the position you held in his life did not satisfy you. On the other hand, what could you expect going into a relationship with a married man with children? This is the question your voice of reason should prompt you to ask. Unfortunately, your voice of reason and moral compass have drowned in the Spaniard's brown eyes. Sometimes when remorse would catch you, you would recall his words about his wife. About how badly she treats him. How the feeling between them had faded years ago, and they are only together because of the children. About the fact that the children are growing up, and it will soon be the right time to divorce. “What's going on in that beautiful mind?” his voice snapped you out of your reverie. “Do you love me?” “Of course,” he kissed you softly, “I love you. Where did this silly question come from?” “I wonder if you are taking me seriously. We only meet at my place. We can't go to the park together or to any restaurant. Nowhere. I can't call you when you're at home. I don't know your friends. You don't want to introduce me to your parents. You're even hiding your address from me,” you were upset and tired. “Mi amor.” Fernando started caressing your cheek, “I will soon introduce you to my children, parents, and friends. I will brag about you in front of everyone. We will go on romantic dates regularly. And as for my address, one day you will know it by heart… You will live in this house.” “Are you serious? Are we going to live there?” “Of course, cariño. You, me and my… sorry, our children. I mean, only if that’s what you want” You smiled widely and kissed his lips, “I want it.” “I’m glad,” he smiled and unlocked his phone to check the time. “I think I really should go.” “Why don't you stay a little longer? I don't think this will hurt anyone. I’m not done yet.” You put your hand on his chest, slowly running it down his body. “Let’s go for another round,” you whispered in his ear. “You know what,” he kissed your neck, “You really are seductive.” You knew you wouldn't be able to drag out the moment of his leaving, but you hoped he would at least leave the scent of his cologne.

Fernando was right; your new perfume really was intense. After leaving your flat, he could smell them on himself all the time. His cologne was also strong, but a sensitive nose could sense that it was mixed with some other scent. He was afraid his wife would do it.

“Mi amor,” he greeted his wife, entering the room. “Hi. Your meeting lasted a little longer than it was supposed to.” She said while cutting vegetables. “Unfortunately. But you know how it is” he sighed “As a little compensation, on my return, I went shopping. Kids still in school?” “Yes, they will need to be picked up soon.” “I will do it,” he declared, “But first… I have something for you.” “Really? What’s that?” The man pulled a box from his shopping bag. He then handed it to the woman. “Perfume?” She smiled, holding a bottle with a glass rose inside. “As soon as they fell into my hands, I immediately thought of you.” “The design is really beautiful.” “Design? Wait until you smell the fragrance,” he laughed and took the bottle from her hands. Fernando sprayed the perfume in the air and walked into it, with a proud face. “Stop it” she couldn’t stop giggling, “You are about to use up all the perfume.” She walked up to the man and hugged him, and he kissed the top of her head. “I must say, it smells really nice,” she acknowledged. “You see, I have a taste. And it's not just this perfume, I've also chosen the most gorgeous woman to be my wife.” The woman looked deep into his eyes, “Thank you. For the perfume and for everything. Thank you for being in my life. I love you.” “I love you too.”

#fernando alonso x female reader #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #f1 x female reader #fernando alonso x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #fa14 x reader

91 notes · View notes

suosdisciple-keelmember · 5 months ago

Text

Suo Hayato x Reader — My master, my love

Suo x gn reader

Summary: Suo took you as his disciple and you train often together. However, you admire Suo deeply and have fallen for him.

Warnings: Physical confrontation, power dynamics (master-disciple relationship), light suggestive language

Word count: 1.9k

A/n: I hope you like my first contribution for this fandom! I definitely enjoyed writing this♡

You bow respectfully as a signal for the training fight to start. Moving first, you rush forward, hoping to test his defense, but you are outsmarted.

A simple sidestep destroys your plan as your wrist gets stopped by a determined grip, using your power to spin you around. Stumbling slightly, you notice that the next attack was already coming. With a well-timed jump, you succeed to escape.

Yet, the offensive stance of the person across from you remained. Now was it your turn to defend yourself.

However, in the next moment, drift your thoughts to your opponent and master, Suo Hayato. You had always admired him since you had met.

His brown hair is fluttering in the nightly breeze with his yellow tassel earrings, the two crimson spheres on both sides of them. The moon highlights his features and glistening ruby eyes. His right eye was concealed by a leather eye patch, adding a mysterious but striking touch to his presence.

Suo's fierce concentration during battles was totally different from the warm smiles he gave you, reflecting his gentle and friendly character.

Altogether, his whole being has been out of this world.

Quite often had you found yourself thinking about him. In the beginning, you didn't really consider it of importance at first. Then you were just looking up to your master, his strength and personality. Yet, you know that it wasn't completely like that. With the time you realized it—that you had developed feelings for him.

Abruptly stopped your daydreaming as you got thrown onto the ground. It was a gentle, but firm lead, a direct contrast to the hard and unrelenting earth under your feet.

"Out spacing again? You need to learn to focus more on the current moments during a fight, (Y/N)-san."

Raising up, you meet Suo's stern, assessing face.

"I-I'm sorry Suo-sama." you stutter, clapping your hands together to apologize.

A smile hushes over his face as he reaches his hand out to help you up. Accepting his offer, you feel a comfortable warmth spreading through you as your hands make contact.

Standing again, Suo pats your back and says with his usual friendly and at the same time lecturing tone : "And how often have I told you to just speak to me using '-san' or at least '-sensei'?! You are my disciple and no worshiper. Are you even paying attention to anything?"

"B-But you are my master! There's no other form which would suitable to address you!" you argue and pout.

After that, he let out a small sigh and his lips curve up again. "Okay, I won't mind that for now. Let's… come back to your performance." Nervousness washes over you. His evaluation was always something you looked forward to. Then, through his comments and feedback, could you draw a lesson and polish yourself.

"You've been all in all pretty solid in this session. And your defense has also improved. So… nice work (Y/N)-san! You get steadily better! Still, a thing we definitely have to work on is your concentration and technique." Nodding approvingly, you reply full of motivation at his words: "Okay, I will try to get better, Suo-sama! Thank you for teaching!"

The two of you decide to sit down so you could talk a bit. You did that almost every time during training to take a break and continue afterward. Knees drawn up to your chests with legs bent, the two of you sat next to each other on the soft grass which shined brightly in the moonlight. The cool air added something peaceful to the late hour and the soothing silence, making you feel safer and calmer than anywhere else.

"It's been some months now since we started training together, right?" Suo says while gazing at the sky. "Y-Yeah. And I'm still utterly grateful for our meeting. I wouldn't know where I would stand now in life, if I hadn't met you."

You remember it like it had only happened very recently—he had saved you as some rowdies brought you into a predicament when you were wandering alone through the streets at night. At that time, you weren't strong enough to stand up and fight for yourself. But Suo had helped you and didn't even wanted compensation for that. Also, you got the option to train from him. Once you realized the benevolence and kindness in his offer, it was obvious to you: Suo was one of the nicest persons you had ever encountered, and you were going to devote yourself to him and his training.

Suo shakes his head. "No need to praise me in such a way." says he, his voice sincere and full of modesty. His eyes soften as you make eye-contact. "You have really made progress since then by yourself. I have just given you a few tips and shown some techniques, nothing more. That's why, (Y/N)-san, you can be proud of yourself."

You blush slightly at his compliment. On the one hand, you feel grateful that he acknowledged the achievements you've made over the time, but on the other hand, you are also exasperated by him not recognizing that his assistance itself helped you to become better and change something in yourself.

"I object to that! Humbleness shouldn't be made out of lies! The reason I'm even now capable of defending myself and getting stronger was only due to your decision to take me as a disciple and I will tolerate no dissent, Suo-sama."

A sudden touch on your arm, let your thoughts spin endlessly in flusteredness. Suo had closed the distance between you and laid a hand on your arm. His grip, gentle and full of empathy, conveyed comfort. Knees brushing against each other, the physical contact providing something you just couldn't put into words. "We will see. However, you should always have in mind that it was your determination and will which has shaped you to the person you are now." The color on your cheeks turned into a darker shade of red, sight of field lying on the ground as you turn your head away from him so he can't see your embarrassement.

"And there's also another point I wanted to talk with you about."

Looking slowly again at him, you ask curious: "W-What do you mean?" Your stomach churned nervously as you saw him smirking full of mischief, assuming that he was up to nothing good for you. His eyes shined full of anticipation towards his only too well-known teasing.

"I noticed that whenever I say something positive about you, there's a tint of red coming up on your face. You could say that my words seem to influence you quite extraordinarily."

"T-That's not right!" you stutter, hugging your knees in an attempt to cover your blushing appearance. "I-I just think that… your comments are too good-hearted for someone like me. I do not deserve that with my skills and personality altogether."

Suo laughs, clearly amused about your flustered answer.

"Well, it shows at least that you are being honest with your feelings. And I like that about you."

Your heart stops for a second at his words and a comfortable warmth spreads in your chest, as you struggle to find the right words. "T-Thank you… Suo-sama" you say, smiling shyly, but full of gratitude.

You clear your throat and ask him then something which had been bugging you for a while now: "I don't want to let it look like I want to change the topic desperately to escape your teasing, but… why do you have even offered to train me? I mean, having a disciple must prevent you from making yourself stronger. So why did you ask me back then?"

Suo scratches the back of his neck, thinking for an answer. A minute of silence follows until he finally breaks it: "To be honest… I thought that you had potential. At first glance it may seem like you didn't had any power to protect yourself, but I deeply believe that, on the second view, there was an undeveloped strength within you, awaiting to shine. And that's why I wanted to help you to develop yourself."

"That was too nice of you, Suo-sama. In my perspective, I was definitely without any talent. I appreciate your thoughts a lot." you say and smile.

"No problem." Suo looks at the clock of his phone and then again up to you. "Shall we resume our training now? It's been a bit since we have begun our break."

You nod and punch the air. "Yes, of course! I'm always ready to continue our sparring!"

As the next battle between you began, you lunged again forward in his direction, pretending to use a strike at him. You know that he would read your actions and prepare some measures against them in order to fight back. However, this time you are determined to improve.

At the moment your distance was close enough for him to conter, you backed away from him. Suo didn't let him bother by that. Even if your movement wasn't anticipated by him, he would surely find a way to turn the situation into his favor.

Straight away he was approaching you, his movements precise and fluid. But this time you tried to catch Suo off guard.

Realizing the perfect moment, you bend down just as he is about to attack your side. As you feel his foot colliding against your body, you sprint forward, turn around and then start another offensive at him. Indeed, your plan had worked out, as you saw him losing his balance. Still, he wasn't completely taken aback by that.

Instead, he fooled you, shifting his body and putting one hand on your upper-arm and another on your shoulder, using your own force to take you down.

And like the last time you were brought down to the ground.

Suo used no rough strength to immobilize you, he pressed his knee firmly on your shoulder and helds your wrist, arm extended.

Looking up at him, you feel how the coldness of the ground is the absolute opposite to the hold of Suo, who was caring and gentle.

"You are already better than before, (Y/N)-san." Suo locked eyes with you, his lips curved slightly upwards.

"Only because of your great tutoring, Suo-sama."

"That's not quite correct, just like my reasoning before about my choice to take you as my disciple."

You tried to catch your breath at his unexpected revelation. "W-What do you mean?"

His eyes lighted up with a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides the skill to become a good fighter, I found something else in you. Your persistance. The way you held on to seek a way out of your situation, even when not having the strength at that moment, was just unique in my eyes and I wanted to help you. However, after some time, my beliefs about that changed a bit."

Still not sure about what to say to him, you ask, curious: "In… which way? Was it because I disappointed you?"

He chuckles and slightly leans down to your ear. You could feel his warm breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver down your spine.

The next words he whispers to you, you would never forget:

"On the contrary, being with you is pleasing. I care about you a lot. You've… become more than just a normal disciple to me."

And with that your cheeks flush again in embarrassment, leaving you dazed and unable to answer.

#suo hayato #suo hayato x reader #suo x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker #suo-sama

91 notes · View notes

anangelwhodidntfall · 2 years ago

Text

Picasso II: Dad!JakeSully

Avatar Masterlist

word count: 1.4k

Request: Part Two of Picasso Part I, about how after they leave and arrive at the reefs. Like how would they react when they see Y/n's style and dyed hair? How they start living, adapting, and how both chiefs are with them and stuff. Just everything, let your imagination run wild!

A/N: This was supposed to be Ao'nung x reader, but I could help but think about what if Daughter reader fell in love with an original character from the Metkayina clan who loved her for how different she was.

OC: Äeka Te Veha Toi'itan

After nearly weeks of traveling on their ikrans, y/n's family had finally arrived in Awa'atlu, desperately seeking Uturu to get away from war. With an inaudible sigh, she shuffled closer to her twin, his heavy arm immediately coming to wrap around her tense shoulders, effectively grounding her as she wondered what was going to happen here. As she listened to her parents trying to plead for their sanctuary when her eyes landed on a boy about her age staring at you and your family. Y/n had to admit he was very pretty, he offered her a small smile as she smile back at him before turning back towards her family, hoping she would get to see more of him soon.

"These children aren't even true Na'vi." The Tsahìk said harshly as she held one of Lo'ak's hands in the air making y/n and Neteyam glare at her.

The following weeks had been a struggle for the whole family, but especially you and your siblings as some of the clan kids liked giving you guys a hard time for being different from them but not Tsierya she had become your best friend and the beautiful boy that y/n saw during their arrival was named Äeka he was a warrior in training like Neyetmam and he was so kind to them especially her. He would often seek her out during chores, or after training loving to sit and talk with her while she painted or drew, he has a lot of her artwork.

Speaking of her artistic abilities, y/n more often than not was in the artist's tent working on her drawings or learning about their styles and how they do the tattoos that they have. One day y/n had been in there after her chores roughly sketching a tattoo when Ronal saw it.

"That is very good my child, would you have any interest in learning how to do the tattoos on the skin?" She asked the young girl.

"I would love to actually." Y/n said as Ronal motioned for her to follow her over to her station where she already had a client.

A few days later Äeka had been searching all over for y/n, the young warrior had grown quite fond of the girl since her and her family arrived and not to mention how pretty she was and how different she was from the other Na'vi. He finally found her playing on the beach with her younger sister Tuk, who was building a sandcastle with a bucket of shells sitting by you two and as he got closer to you guys, he noticed that the pink was missing from your hair which made him frown.

"Hi y/n, hi Tuk. What are you girls up to this evening?" He asked as you looked up at him with a smile.

"Hi Äeka, we're just working on building a sandcastle and we're gonna decorate with these shells. Would you like to join us?" You asked him as he nodded his head taking a seat next to you.

"No pink today?" He asked you as you guys worked on the sandcastle.

"Uh no, I took it out. Not many people here are fond of it, as they like to remind me." You said quietly as Äeka frowned wondering who dared to say anything to you about your hair because he loved it.

"That's a shame, I always thought it made you the prettiest girl here." He said as y/n felt her cheeks warm at his word making her lower her head.

"Really?" Y/n asked him.

"Really, don't listen to what others say. They fear what they don't understand." He said brushing some of her hair out her face.

"You know my dad said the same thing to me." Y/n said.

"Well, he's right, so please consider putting the color back in your hair." He said as y/n nodded her head.

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Tuk and talking with each other until the eclipse started to happen and the two girls had to head home much to their dismays but Äeka offered to walk them home just to squeeze in a few more minutes with y/n.

Meanwhile, Jake had been outside the Mauri waiting for his kids to return when he saw y/n and Äeka laughing and talking while they walked home with Tuk a few steps in front of them, while it made him happy to see his baby girl smiling...it also stressed him a bit to think about her dating already.

"So you and Äeka?" Jake asked y/n not so subtly making Neytiri shake her head at him.

"Relax Dad, we're just friends nothing more. So please calm down." Y/n said making her mom laugh as she entered the Mauri.

"Hey, Mom?" Y/n asked her mother as they cleaned up from dinner while her dad was out of the home.

"Yes, sweetheart?" She asked.

"I was wondering if maybe tonight or tomorrow you could help me put the pink back in my hair? If you don't mind." She asked.

"Of course dear, we can work on it tonight while your dad is asleep, so it just stays between us and we don't have to hear how right he is." Your mom said making you laugh.

That night after her dad went to sleep, her mom helped her put the pink back in her hair promising not to out to let her dad know that he was right and that Äeka may or may not have played a hand in it as well. Y/n woke up that morning and ate her breakfast feeling her father’s eyes on her as she ate.

“Babygirl, I’m glad to see you put the pink back in your hair.” He said.

“Thanks dad. I just missed having it there and plus it’s kinda annoying how many times people have thought I was Nete.” She said as she finished up.

“So this had nothing to do with what I said?” He asked her as her and her siblings shared a look.

“Umm not really no! Look at the time, I got chores to do! Bye mom, bye dad!” She said running out laughing as Jake shook his head in disblief.

“Nice try! You know I was right about your hair!” He yelled after her making her laugh.

"Y/n." Tonowari said causing the young girl to turn and look at Chief and bow her head at him.

"Tonowari, how may I help you?" She asked wondering what the chief wanted from her.

"Your father and Äeka have both come and told me about your artistic skills and I was coming over here to see if you would have any interest in becoming one of the clan's artists?" He asked shocking y/n.

"You want me to do the tattoos and everything?" She asked making sure she was understanding him right.

"Yes in addition to your father and Akea, my wife has always told me about how you have been studying the art of our clans and learning how to tattoo. I think you would excel in this area if you wish." He said.

"I would love to. Thank you so much for this opportunity!" Y/n said shaking his hand.

"Of course. Tomorrow morning just head to the artist's tent and they will get you all set up." He said before leaving.

Äeka had been finishing up his daily chores when he heard footsteps approaching making him look up and see y/n approaching him making him smile as he greeted her.

"You put the pink back in your hair." He said with a smile.

"Yeah I did...turns out you and my dad were right..but don't tell him I said that." She said making him laugh as he agreed.

"So Tonowari offered me a job today." She said making him listen with interest as he had been speaking highly of her art skills to the Olo'eyktan.

"He did? What kind of job did he offer you?" He asked her softly holding her hand.

"He offered me a job as an artist for the clan, thanks to recommendations from you, Ronal, and my dad about my art." She said with that smile that he swore he never get tired of seeing on her face.

"That's amazing sweetheart! Congratulations, I know that you are going to do so well." He said hugging her.

#jake sully x daughter #dad!jakesully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #sully!reader #sully!reader x oc #tonowari x reader #neteyam x sister!reader

438 notes · View notes

hopelesswritergall · 1 year ago

Text

His muse

A/N :So many people wanted it, so enjoy

Taglist(Comment, ask or message me to be added or removed): @daenerysapologist @howyouloveyourdragon @simp-aholic @thisaccountisrandomsstuff

Aemond would not say he is obsessed. Does he go out of his way to see you? If you count coming to the museum only on the days you work? Yes, then definitely. He once asked what days you were working, which was an innocent question. He just wanted to know when he could show you some of his own drawings.. So now every Sunday morning and Wednesday midday he is sitting at a bench looking at the paintings, holding his sketchbook tilted so you can’t see what he is drawing, which infuriates you to some degree. You were curious as to what he could be drawing, seeming to be on a new page every single day you see him. How many variations of one painting can a single man make?

It was Sunday morning and you had just taken your place in your designated room. Checking to see if the alarms were all working, getting some water and then it was a waiting game. Waiting for that usual guy, Aemond you had recently learned, to show up. You didn’t quite know what intrigued him this much about the painting, but alas, a customer is a customer after all. It was just 10 minutes after opening that you heard the oh so familiar sound of his leather boots on the floor. The way the light that was supposed to be on the paintings almost seemed to gravitate towards him, as if he was the main attraction. You gave him a quick nod and greeted him politely. “Goodmorning Aemond, coming to see the same paintings again? For the twentieth time, it must be already.”

“But of course, the art always seems to be a little different each time I visit. It’s worth it, the paintings inspire me.” he would say as he grabbed his little sketchbook and supplies.

“To everyone their own I suppose. We are hosting a competition by the way, it is about artwork inspired by paintings here! Why don’t you submit your work? You’ve been practicing so long, I’m sure you will win.”

He would’ve loved to, just to see your excitement, but the only problem is that his drawings weren’t inspired by the paintings. They were inspired by his muse. You

“Oh well I don’t think that is such a great idea….” He would mumble, almost inaudible.

“Oh come on, I’m sure it isn’t that bad! Just show me, I’m sort of the jury, I can find you some advice in advance.” You offered to him, while speaking you had ascended from your chair and started to walk over to where he was sitting. Aemond however hadn’t noticed this yet, it was only when he looked up to study you some more that he noticed you weren’t at your usual place. He then felt a presence looking over his shoulder and he quickly shut his book. But it was too late, you’d already seen it. Now you would probably get a restraining order against him, finding him a creep, a weirdo perhaps even a freak. He was preparing himself to get yelled at. But to his surprise it never came.

Instead you pointed out “My hair isn’t exactly that colour. It’s a bit off, but it was a pretty drawing!”

“You aren’t freaked out? Creeped out by it?”

“Should I be? I think it rather endearing that out of everything that we have in this museum you pick me to draw! I think of it as a compliment!”

“Well you are kinda my muse after all… I just felt this connection the first time I saw you, and then I couldn’t help but draw you, and then again and again…”

“How about we go for a drink? After I’m done working? The white stag perhaps? And after that we could discuss a perhaps more professional drawing session. Where I’d model for you. How does that sound?”

“What time do you get off?”

#hotd x reader #hotd modern au #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond fic #aemond x reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern hotd

150 notes · View notes

lauptimist · 8 months ago

Text

Your hair is really soft after you wash it - Percabeth

a/n- this is the first chapter of my fluff one-shots series on ao3. I hope you enjoy it! pls like, comment and reblog. It motivates me so much. Also make sure you send me requests. I've had a few so far but it may take me little while to get them out. I'm hoping chapter 3 of this series will be out soon. :)

Percy didn’t quite know how he got here, lying next to Annabeth on her bed in Cabin 6. You’d think it was romantic, at least, that's what all her brothers and sisters thought when she led him in here with a firm grip on his wrist. But in truth Percy was pretty sure that this was the most uncomfortable experience he had ever had. He was as stiff as a board, not even letting the tip of his finger come within 5 inches of Annabeth in fear that she would kick him out.

Even still there was no way that he would want to be anywhere else, even just being in her presence made him feel good.

Percy wasn't sure what it was about her exactly that pulled him in so much but it could have something to do with the fact that he knew that whatever happened, she would always be on his side. And with the subtle hints that she had dropped to him he was pretty sure she felt the same way. Percy had always been someone who wouldn't dream of hurting or betraying his friends, no matter the situation. He knew he had proved that on their quest, with the arch and the golden throne being just a couple of examples. He had also noticed that Annabeth had been distancing herself from other people at camp, at this point Percy was pretty much the only person she spent time with and he was almost certain that it had quite a lot to do with Luke.

Saying that Lukes betrayal had hit Annabeth hard would be an understatement, she had barely left her cabin for the first three days, only emerging for meals and mandatory meetings and she almost always showed up with red rims around her eyes.

Percy was worried to say the least but he didn’t know how to help her when she was so desperate not to talk to anyone. He might not be the best when it came to emotions (that was more Grover’s forte) but one thing Percy did know was that the worst thing you can do is bottle it up. He knew Annabeth was struggling and he was ready to barge in and force her to talk to him until one day she just showed up at his cabin. He was slightly astounded for a moment and she seemed almost shy which was the last thing he ever expected her to be, but she just asked if she could come in and when Percy finally managed to stutter out a yes she just sat down on one of the empty bunks pulled a book out of her bag and started reading.

Percy was slightly confused for a while before he decided to just carry on with the drawing he’d been doing in his sketchbook. He wasn’t a particularly good artist but he had always enjoyed drawing as it helped him to make sense of the things happening around him. And so it became somewhat of a routine for them. Her reading a book (usually a different one everyday) and him sketching some mythical creature they had encountered (although a lot of his recent sketches had been of the owls he often saw in the woods). Until this lunchtime when Annabeth had come over to his table, ignoring the reprimanding glances she was receiving from Chiron, and asked if he could meet her in her cabin later.

Being the seaweed brained idiot that she always knew him as, he had not thought to go and get his sketchbook before he went and so now he was just lying there awkwardly as unlike his cabin all of the bunks in the Athena cabin were full and so they had to share Annabeths. Working up the courage he asked her,

“Annabeth, why are we in your cabin instead of mine?”

She turned and looked at him,

“Did I not tell you?” She seemed surprised

“Um-no. Unless I forgot which is very possible and in which case I apologise as-” he was rambling now.

Annabeth simply let out a small laugh that for some reason made his cheeks feel hot,

“It's fine Seaweed Brain, I’m pretty sure I forgot to tell you anyway. I asked Chiron if he had a monster proof TV, which he doesn’t but he did give me this Laptop instead which apparently has something called Disney+ on it. Im not entirely sure what that is but i assumed you would know so…” She stopped talking, noticing the astounded look on his face.

“O-oh i’m sorry if you don’t want to, it's just that you said we could watch a movie after the quest was over and i thought now would be good time…”

“No no no, Its amazing Annabeth! I guess i was just surprised you remembered, i mean it was a while ago.” Percy hurried to reassure her.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since you first mentioned it back in Waterland.” Percy was smiling softly at her, an emotion in his eyes that Annabeth couldn’t recognise.

“Well then Wise Girl, what film do you feel like watching?” Percy’s face lit up in anticipation.

“Oh wait, do you mind if i have a shower before we start? My hair is kinda greasy and I won't have time for one tomorrow.” Annabeth suddenly remembered.

“Of course, don’t be too long though. I might watch something without you.” Annabeth let out a small chuckle at his teasing tone.

“Sure Seaweed Brain, 10 minutes. Max” She tapped his nose on her way to the bathroom, an action that brought a dark flush to Percy’s cheeks that he hoped Annabeth hadn’t seen.

Annabeth was true to her word and emerged from the bathroom exactly 8 minutes later with her hair half dried with a towel. She took a few seconds to tug a brush through it before joining Percy on the bed again. They were alone in the cabin now, her siblings had gone down to the campfire. Truthfully she hoped they would stay there until the movie they watched was finished, call her selfish but all she had wanted for a good week now was some alone time with Percy to watch a movie. Technically they were breaking the rule of a male and female camper being alone in a cabin together but she figured Chiron wouldn’t mind considering the highly dangerous quest to stop a war that they had just been on.

“I’ll ask you again, what movie do you feel like watching?” Percy brought her back to earth with a smile.

“I don’t know any so i guess we could just watch your favourite.”

“Yessssss. Okay so my favourite movie is called Finding Nemo and it is the best film in the world. It's about this fish that gets lost and his dad and his friend have to go and find him.” Annabeth smiled as he typed it into the search box, of course such a stupid sounding movie would be his favourite.

1 hour and 40 minutes later Annabeth had officially watched her very first movie and she had thoroughly enjoyed it. Whilst she was right in saying that it was a bit stupid she found herself laughing more than she ever had before, although to be fair most of the things she was laughing at were Percy’s stupid comments. By the end they were both pretty tired and almost falling asleep. Still Annabeth didn’t want him to leave and she was almost certain that a similar thought was running through his mind.

They stayed like that, in comfortable silence for another half an hour, curled up together, his arm around her shoulder, his hand playing with her hair. Annabeth was embarrassed as her hair was tangled from the way it had dried whilst she was lying down. However it was evident that Percy didn’t care as the next words from his lips were,

“Your hair is really soft after you wash it.”

Looking back Annabeth thought that might be the moment she realised that her little crush might not be so little after all.

#percabeth #percabeth fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo #percy jackson tv show #riordanverse #percy x annabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #fluff #percy jackson fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

66 notes · View notes

myfairstarlight · 1 month ago

Text

Crimson Reveries

AO3 Link.

Rated: E

Length: 10.6k

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington

Written for Polinween Week 4: "Fangs for the memories"

Summary:

Colin is not obsessed, but he has noticed that Penelope’s lips have always been tainted red ever since her presentation. It is quite striking against her porcelain skin and fiery red hair — it draws the eye, that is for certain. As temptation prevails and a kiss is shared under the moonlight, deeply buried feelings begin to unravel. Night after night, Colin is haunted by dreams of crimson lips, pearly white teeth, and a passion that leaves him breathless. Yet, something unsettling lingers behind the dreams. As the days pass, and the line between reality and fantasy starts to blur, his mind spirals into unnatural territory. He wonders if her lips bear the colour of something… more eternal than red paint. And that perhaps, it is not truly him she desires, but rather something he possesses.

*additional notes on ao3

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

The thing is, that night, he could not help but stare.

It is peculiar, Colin thinks, as he has known Penelope for almost two decades now, and never before has he been this intrigued by the red of her lips. He has noticed before, of course, that soon after her presentation, it was difficult to see Penelope without that particular shade on her lips. It attracts the eye, such a vibrant red against her pale skin, luring gentlemen to lower their gaze to her mouth and then to her… well, bosom.

Colin is not vain, but he can still appreciate that his friend is well-gifted in particular areas.

And yet, over the years, Penelope has never had a single suitor or one that would stay longer than one dance. Perhaps it makes him a shallow friend, but Colin was pleased, for it allowed him to never lose his favourite person to converse and dance with so that these boring social events may pass in a blur. And it made him proud, as well, that of all the gentlemen of the Ton, he was the only one Penelope smiled at with graceful ease.

Penelope Featherington is now an old maiden in society’s eyes, at a mere eight and twenty of age. And yet, Colin thinks she has never looked this youthful and beautiful in her quiet confidence, so at peace with herself. Perhaps he sees her through a different light than anyone else, though he refuses to believe the gentlemen of the Ton can be this blind.

His brothers inquired about it once, when he was a mere one and twenty of age.

“Do you think her lack of suitors is your fault, brother?” Benedict asked. “For you are always near her and dancing with her.”

“As a friend does.”

“A friend, as you put it, does not constantly look at a lady's lips,” Anthony pointed out with a sneer.

“I—” Colin coughed. “I am not! It is just… have you not noticed… How peculiar the shade of her lipstick is?”

“No, because I do not spend the majority of my time staring at Penelope's mouth indeed,” Benedict responded.

Anthony snorted. “Shall we be expecting wedding bells in the not-so-distant future?”

Colin rolled his eyes, getting annoyed at his brothers’ unwillingness to be serious for a moment.

“I will certainly not be marrying Penelope Featherington, I can assure you as much.”

“I do not recall asking you to, Mr Bridgerton,” Penelope’s voice suddenly resonated behind him. When he turned around, she was standing by the door, leaning against its frame with a raised eyebrow, her cherry-red lips forming a thin, tense line. “And you two,” she continued, looking at Benedict and Anthony, “what business is it of yours? You who wield ladies’ hearts like mere toys?”

“Penelope—” the three brothers said simultaneously, only to be met with the lady’s dismissive hand as she waved their would-be apology away.

“I pity whoever you wed,” she said. “Now, where is Gregory?”

“Gregory?” Colin choked out.

“I agreed to help with his dance lessons but I cannot find him or your mother for the life of me,” Penelope huffed. “Never mind, I will find them eventually. Goodbye, gentlemen.”

She slammed the door behind her with little regard for the strength she used. When Colin turned back towards his brothers, they both had a dazed look in their eyes.

“Ah, forget what we said Colin, we now know why no gentleman has ever approached her,” Benedict said.

“Indeed, no man’s ego can handle such blunt wit,” Anthony agreed.

“Her lips are indeed rather—”

“Stop thinking about her lips!” Colin protested.

“Say you?”

Now, Colin watches as Penelope dances with Gregory in the middle of their mother’s garden party. Ever since Gregory entered society, he has been making sure to seek out Penelope for a dance. Penelope’s dance card only ever has two names these days — the two youngest Bridgerton men fighting for dominance on the small piece of paper.

That conversation, which happened years ago now, is but a meaningless memory, a strife in his and Penelope’s friendship that lasted only a week before they were back to exchanging barbs at any social event they attended together before Colin departed for his annual travels. However, ever since then, Penelope has insisted that her favourite Bridgerton man was now Gregory, and the latter has been insufferable bragging about it, even more so now that he can attend events as well and hog Penelope’s time away from Colin.

So yes, tonight, Colin is, for some reason, plagued by a distant memory and fascinated by Penelope’s lips.

Well. For a good reason, actually. His mind simply refuses to fully admit it, though his body and heart have, and he is already making his way towards the lady.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

On a peaceful evening, one night ago, to be more precise, Colin Bridgerton kissed Penelope Featherington.

She was invited to dinner at Number 5, along with her mother, though the latter was fortunately unable to attend. Well, perhaps that is a rude thought, but Colin never liked Portia Featherington or the rest of that family for that matter. He could never understand how sweet, beautiful Penelope could ever be related to them.

That evening, only his mother, Eloise and the two youngest were in attendance. It was quite the reminder to Colin that the rest of his siblings had been paired off, happily married.

He just did not expect the reason that Penelope was invited was because his mother expected Gregory to formally ask her for a courtship.

It was another brutal reminder that his baby brother was indeed four and twenty and most likely looking to secure a match of his own. Colin knew that, on an unconscious level. Gregory always held a puppy love crush on Penelope since he was old enough to understand what a crush was. Whenever Penelope visited, and if Eloise did not banish him to his chamber, Gregory would always happily follow the redhead girl everywhere. However, the idea that he was seriously interested in Penelope…

So he needed to know if the interest was mutual.

He found Penelope alone in the garden, by the pond. The full moon was reflected upon the calm water as she gazed at it, a forlorn expression on her face.

“No Eloise?” he inquired.

She barely reacted to his sudden appearance. “She said she had a headache and left me to fend for myself when your mother asked me if I had any intention to marry. Bless Violet but she has the subtlety of a brick wall.”

Colin snorted. “And what did you tell her?”

Penelope did not answer. She kept staring at the water as she bit her thumb’s nail. Then, after a while, she sighed.

“Colin, may I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he responded with no hesitation.

“Would…” She turned to him, eyes glistening in the night. Colin’s eyes immediately dropped to her lips, pursed as she deliberated her next words. Colin suddenly had the thought that she appeared to be asking for a kiss, paired with the way she was tilting her head up to look at him from under her lashes. “Would you kiss me?”

Did he hear that right?

“Penelope—”

“It would not have to mean anything,” she continued as if he did not speak. Her voice was strangely poised. “But to answer your question, I— even if the option was offered, I do not think I would take it. Marriage is… not something I can ever hope to achieve.”

“That is ludicrous, Pen. You’re only—”

“A spinster, and shall remain so,” Penelope interrupted. Colin’s heart sank, for reasons he had yet to understand. “But I… I remain curious. I do not wish to live the rest of eternity without ever having been kissed. I am on the shelf, I have nothing else to lose.”

And the truth was, at that moment, it was all Colin could think about. Kissing Penelope Featherington. A part of him thought — it made sense, why did he never think of it?

She reached for his face, her long nails scraping the stubble on his chin. Her eyes bore a dangerous and curious glint, cherry-red lips parted ever so slightly. Colin was mesmerised.

“Please?” she whispered.

Colin was only a weak man. He grabbed her hand in a firm grip and then cradled her cheek with his other one. She gasped, chest heaving as he leaned down until their breaths mingled. Colin observed, perhaps obsessively, every twitch of her face, the way her eyes fluttered before they closed under his intense gaze, how even after all these years, she still possessed a few freckles creating constellations on her face, how her lips, full and so very red looked ready to be ravished.

Finally, he closed the remaining distance between them.

And thus, on one ordinary evening, with only the moon as witness, Colin Bridgerton kissed Penelope Featherington.

He wished he could describe it as a revelation, a world-stopping event changing the trajectory of his life. In truth, the press of her tender lips against his was like a missing piece of his heart falling into place, an inevitability from which he finally stopped running from. Kissing her was like coming home.

He pulled back, if only for a moment, to see her expression. She looked divine under the moonlight, her pale skin seemingly glowing under his fingertips. She looked serene, dazed, and dare he hope, in love. Her blue eyes met his with unwavering certainty and she smiled.

“Thank—”

Before she could finish, Colin brought their lips together again, perhaps with more force than he intended to.

She wanted to say thank you as if this were a mere favour? He could not let her think that for one moment.

She gasped, hands flailing for a moment, before they rested around his neck, scraping the ends of his hair and sending shivers down his spine. He hummed, moving his mouth against her, guiding her into a gentle rhythm until hesitation turned into instinct.

The kisses, relentless and lingering, grew deeper and deeper. After what felt like hours, he could not help but bite gently on her lower lip, eliciting a delicious moan from Penelope. However, before he could get a proper taste of her mouth, he hissed at a sudden sting on his upper lip. An iron taste slipped into the kiss as Penelope pressed closer, and Colin felt helpless to indulge in her eagerness.

Then suddenly, Penelope pulled away with a gasp, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “I must go!” she said, voice muffled by her palms as she flew away before Colin could say or do anything to stop her.

It was like he came back to his own body. He realised then how flushed his face was despite the chilly air, the way his fingers, which were caressing Penelope’s skin a moment earlier, were now trembling into the sudden emptiness, how his heart was fervently beating, loud and obnoxious in his ears, how he was bleeding. The upper right corner and lower left corner of his lips stung against the cold air due to the cuts suddenly there.

Penelope, in her eagerness, bit him. Several times. And he was too enchanted to even realise properly. Colin swiped a small trail of blood trickling down his chin and found himself smiling like a maniac.

Lord, he enjoyed the sting.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Colin finds Penelope under the wisteria, sipping some wine, though she looks rather displeased about it. Her eyes focused on the dancers, she did not notice Colin approaching until he called her name.

“Pen,” he greets casually. She hums in response. “Would you perhaps wish to swap drinks?” he asks, offering the glass of champagne in his hand.

“That is kind, Colin, but believe me when I say you do not wish to taste what I have in my hand.”

Colin blinks. “Uh… Is it not wine?”

Penelope seems to startle back into reality as she shakes her head and offers him a strained smile. “It is. Of course, it is, what else would it be?” She laughs nervously.

“Are you alright, Pen?” A pause as she does not answer. “Is it because of what happened between us?”

“... I bit you, it was embarrassing.”

“I enjoyed it,” he admits, perhaps a bit too easily.

She snorts, quite the ungraceful sound, but she does not say anything else, visibly refusing to acknowledge their kiss any further. Colin swallows. He’s never felt nervous around Penelope before and yet at this moment, he feels quite small under her sharp gaze.

Clearing his throat, he decides to take another approach. “You know, Pen, I have never seen a lady with such loyalty to a shade of lipstick.” Gaining some of his usual confidence back, he leans forward, playfully inspecting her mouth as Penelope gazes at him with parted lips. “One would almost believe it to be… permanent.”

A dangerous glint now gleams in Penelope’s eyes. He can see her think, and weigh the choices now drawn before her. And then—

“It is not lipstick,” she says before taking a sip of her drink. “And this is not wine.”

“Very funny Pen—”

“I am not jesting,” she interrupts, her voice suddenly sounding lower, raspier as if a pretence has been thrown away. She tilts her head, enough so that their breaths mingle. Colin’s vision blurs, focused on her red-stained lips. Vaguely, he notes that he indeed cannot smell any wine. “Colin. There is a reason suitors do not last.”

She smiles, revealing her white teeth and among them two long, sharp canines. Colin gasps, but before he can even comprehend the sight, she clicks her tongue, pulls back, and finishes the rest of her drink. She grimaces and looks ready to empty her stomach.

“Ugh. You have ruined me, this tastes like dirt now,” she says, which makes no sense at all. “I will be taking my leave. Good night, Colin.”

“Wait—”

In what feels like a blink of an eye, Penelope runs out of sight, disappearing among the guests and the flowers.

He got an answer to his curiosity — yet one he is not sure he understands.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

While he was travelling in Europe, Colin came across many books he could unfortunately not read. Many, he brought back for Eloise and Penelope, as they were better versed in other languages than he could ever be, some others he kept for himself, to add to his collection.

(They look rather pretty on his shelves, after all.)

For one such book currently staring back at him, he recalls an old German bookseller telling him that the story involved a man, or creature rather, dead among the living, drinking blood to survive. A creature that remains, never ageing, never changing. He remembers laughing, praising the author’s imagination, although the bookseller did not join him and simply asked if he wanted to purchase it — the original, and a special English translation.

He gave the original to Penelope, and the thought of her, and their last conversation, naturally brought Colin back to this publication. The book’s English translation is now in his hands. It is a collection of poems and short stories, rather than a proper novel, simply signed A Timeless Author. Within, indeed, he reads tales of beings of unnatural origin. A man who can turn into an animal, a woman rising from the dead to protect her dear husband, another woman luring men to their doom within dark woods, feasting on their blood.

The sensual nature of these short tales makes him squirm a little. There was an odd intimacy at play in those scenarios, this need to feed from another, to do so in such proximity, joining pain and pleasure at once.

Colin laughs, albeit a bit weakly, then puts the book back down, and rejoices once more in the imagination humanity holds.

Why did he even entertain for one moment that Penelope could be one such being? These things… vampires, as the Timeless Author coined them, do not age, forever stuck in a past they can no longer reach and hiding away from the sun, but Colin grew up with Penelope. He would forever remember the tiny nine-year-old who apologised profusely for making him fall from a horse in broad daylight, only to laugh at him afterwards when he was unable to remove some dirt and grass from his curls. He saw Penelope go from a sweet and shy girl to the confident and witty woman she now is.

Her odd behaviour at the garden party surely is a simple manifestation of her fatigue.

Colin sighs deeply as he looks at himself in the mirror, inspecting his mouth. The cuts are almost fully healed already, though it still hurts a little. He who hoped for another kiss tonight may simply need to make his intentions clearer. With a nod to himself, he decides that the next day he shall call on Penelope and court her. Make her believe that marriage is not such a ludicrous idea for her. Prove that he no longer was the stupid one-and-twenty boy who could not even admit how oddly obsessed with her he was. How that obsession made him run, over and over again.

When he turns around, he almost screams.

Penelope stands before him in his dimly lit bedroom. She is dressed in a delicate white nightgown that hugs her generous figure wonderfully. Her long, luscious curls cascade down one shoulder, framing her face in an effortless yet sensual way as she gazes at him with bright eyes. There is a quiet confidence in her appearance as she continues to stare, the hint of a smile tugging at her red lips. The picture of innocence and temptation combined.

“Pen! What—”

“Ssh,” she shushes him, and in the blink of an eye, she now stands mere millimetres away from him. Before he can even exhale, she guides him towards the bed, and Colin follows until the back of his knees hits the mattress. As he sits, Penelope nudges his legs open so she may kneel between them. She rests their foreheads together as she whispers, “I need…” Her small hands wrap around his nape.

All the confusion leaves him at once, thoroughly distracted by the cool feeling of her fingers against his skin. She’s not wearing gloves, he realises with elation. Bless his vivid imagination. He closes his eyes, fully indulging in the fantasy, as he becomes Penelope’s ever-so-obedient servant. “What do you need?” he asks.

One of her hands slowly slides to his jaw, thumb caressing the small scar on his chin. Their lips brush as she tilts his head.

“Your heart.” She pauses. The words ‘it is all yours’ form all too easily in Colin’s head. “It is oh so very loud.”

“Is it?”

Penelope hums, eyes flashing red for a brief moment. “I want another taste,” she rasps then her lips are on his.

Instinctively, he wraps an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him, while he cups her face with his free hand. She is much more eager as she melts against him, nails scraping his skin. This kiss is messier, more urgent, and full of hunger. Colin groans, growls, even, as Penelope cradles his face with a tenderness he has never experienced before.

And then she bites his lower lip.

Colin hisses, the sting feeling much too real for a dream. Penelope pulls back, but unlike the last time, she does not run or apologise. Her lips, plump and full, glisten in the dim light. Colin searches her eyes, but she is not looking at him, blue eyes fixated on his lips before they drift to his neck.

She smiles, and Colin catches a glimpse of fangs hidden behind those alluring lips. Perhaps by instinct, he cranes his neck, watching as a spark lights up in Penelope’s eyes. One of his hands finds its way to Penelope’s shoulder, palm barely an inch away from her exposed bosom. She inhales sharply, encouraging the movement until he can cup her ample breast through her sheer dress. He leans down, squeezing and peppering kisses where he can, shy of tearing her dress apart as desire burns within his heart.

“Let go, darling,” he encourages and Penelope wastes no time, throwing herself at him with such force he falls into the mattress, her mouth connected to the base of his neck.

And…

And then he is suddenly gasping, waking to an empty bed as the sun shines brightly through his curtains. His hand flies to his neck, feeling it bare and devoid of any marks.

His mouth still tingles, however.

(And something else.)

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Colin keeps to the promise he made to himself and calls on Penelope that very afternoon. Unfortunately, she is not home and Lady Featherington is thoroughly unhelpful in providing him with her whereabouts, before dismissing him. Eloise is of no further help, although his sister has been oddly distracted lately anyhow.

To his dismay, Gregory is the one giving him the information he needs.

“Pen?” Colin cringes at the nickname spoken by his brother’s lips. “Oh! Every Wednesday she is at the orphanage in Bloomsbury. She reads to the children.”

“Alone?” Colin inquires. “Is that not dangerous?”

“You and I both know we cannot tell her what to do,” Gregory laughs. “I am surprised she has not told you.”

“Well… me too.”

His brother gives him a pitying look and in that brief moment, he looks exactly like Anthony. Colin looks away and then sighs.

“I might as well ask… have you noticed something odd about Penelope? Lately?”

Gregory tilts his head. “She has been… jumpy for the past few days, I suppose. She almost stepped on my feet several times when we danced, which never happens, she’s a rather excellent dancer after all. In fact, she has been rather distracted ever since that dinner.” Colin tenses. “Did you do something?”

“Why do you think I did?”

“Are you seriously asking me this?”

“Would you stop answering my questions with another question?”

“You started it!”

“And you continued.”

One would wonder which one of them is the actual youngest.

“Colin,” Gregory says after a bit, “Pen… she has stopped waiting, you know?”

Colin frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Just that… she told me she was tired of hoping, whatever that meant. I asked her once why she had not left London if she truly had given up on finding a husband.”

“... And what did she say?”

“She should tell you herself. But I think you already know.” Gregory gives him a one-shoulder shrug then waves his hand. “And for the record, you are right, her lips are a particular colour, aren’t they?” He smiles, not-so-subtly adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, drawing Colin’s attention to them.

Colin’s heart skips a beat as he notices two small punctures at the base of his younger brother’s wrist before Gregory quickly covers it back. When their eyes meet again, Gregory is still smiling, pride radiating from his face.

“Gregory…”

“It turns out, you do not need to travel far to discover the most incredible things.” Gregory pats his shoulder. “It was a favour, do not worry, no one was ruined. Good luck, brother.”

He promptly walks away, with a bounce to his steps, leaving Colin to stare at the carpet. He brings a hand to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, a phantom pain suddenly assaulting his skin and yet, he is certain that there was no mark when he looked intently at himself in the mirror. Therefore, last night must have been a dream.

Wasn’t it?

(When he goes to the orphanage, Penelope is not there. Colin has the sudden odd urge to cry out of frustration.)

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Finding time alone with Penelope becomes surprisingly difficult after that, in fact, she disappears from social events, and neither Eloise nor Gregory have any answer for him for they do not know of her whereabouts either. It is as if she is avoiding him during the day but haunting his dreams every night, it is starting to feel like proper torture, rather than moments of ecstasy.

For every time it seems he is finally about to feel her around him, to drink her in, even if it is only a figment of his imagination, he bloody wakes up.

Penelope has always been a constant in his life, his sister’s ever-so-loyal friend, but honestly, his closest friend as well. And he feels like she is slipping through his fingers.

Tonight, he does not wait in bed with his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Instead, he sits at his desk, fiddling with his quill, when the Penelope of his dreams appears before him between two blinks, as she has done almost every night now. She seems surprised by the slight change of setting as she makes her way towards him, the fabric of her nightgown swaying with her movement, akin to the peaceful waves of the sea at night.

“Writing tonight?” she asks softly.

“You make me feel like I have gone mad,” he replies. “Penelope, what are you doing to me?”

For a brief moment, Penelope tenses, guilt flashing in her crystal blue eyes as she takes a step back. Then, she shakes her head.

“I am not doing anything. Right now anyhow.”

“Pen.”

“... You sound tired, perhaps it is better that you rest.” She raises a hand then but before she can touch him, he grabs her wrist, stopping her movement.

“So I am not sleeping,” Colin says, dark eyes boring into her startled ones. “This is real. It has been real every time and yet I cannot remember.”

Penelope laughs, a sound that is meant to be humorous yet Colin can detect a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Do not be silly. How would the real Penelope even be able to sneak into your room at night?”

It has been something he wondered about in moments when doubts would creep into his mind. Especially as he moved into new lodgings in Bloomsbury, and the dreams still kept occurring.

But if he throws all sense of rationality out the window…

“It would be impossible indeed… if you were truly only a woman. But you are not, are you?”

A derisive smile graces her crimson lips. “You did say once I did not count as a woman.” He winces at that. Not his greatest moment. “And you were so unknowingly right.”

Her demeanour changes, as if finally giving up the pretence. She shakes his hand off with a huff, then massages her wrist.

“So you are… a vampire.”

Penelope looks confused for a few moments. “Oh! The book you gave me, right? I had a good laugh at the inaccuracies. Incredible what writing can do, makes this sound so… fantastical. But… asking for that kiss was the biggest mistake of my unfortunate life,” she says then, not meeting his eyes. “Ever since that night, ever since I got a taste, I have been drawn to you. That first night— it was a guttural hunger I could not deny. I’ve fed from others before but this… one drop from you and it was like I was not myself. It was terrifying.”

She has fed from others? Of all things, Colin’s mind cannot help but stay stuck on that information, feeling his insides churn with anger.

“I stopped before I could give in completely. I could not do that to you, so I made you sleep instead,” she continues. Colin’s confusion grows— she can simply make him fall asleep? “And you believed it to be all a dream, so I said nothing, it was easier than to explain this.” She shows off her teeth then, two long fangs glistening under the moonlight. Colin’s heart picks up.

“So you never… bit me.”

“Well, I did, while we kissed, accidentally, which did nothing to satiate my thirst. Now everything tastes… bland.”

A pause. Colin sets his quill aside. “And if I said you can? Bite me, that is, drink from me.”

Penelope regards him as if he were the abnormal one. “Have you gone mad?”

“I may have,” he admits. “But this is clearly affecting you and I cannot help but feel like it is my fault.”

“So simply because you feel guilty you would let a monster drain your blood?”

“You’re not a monster! And you would not do anything to harm me, would you?”

“You have no idea what I have done over the years, Colin. You have no idea who stands before you.”

A shiver runs down his spine at her words, spoken in that low, raspy voice he is not accustomed to.

“Perhaps that is right. But one thing I know is that you are still Penelope Featherington, my dearest friend, and the alluring presence that won’t leave my mind.”

“Colin…”

“Come on.” He beckons her closer, and though she looks hesitant, she wastes no time to round his desk. As soon as she is within reach again, Colin grabs her arm and gently coaxes her into sitting on his lap. She goes surprisingly willingly as if the fight in her vanished after a touch. “Let go, darling. Properly.”

Penelope’s mouth hangs open for a moment, in such an adorable expression of awe and relief that Colin cannot help but steal just one chaste kiss. She chuckles against his mouth, her fangs gently teasing him before she pulls back. One of her hands grabs his chin so he cannot seek another kiss and he pouts.

“This might hurt. Actually, it will hurt,” she warns and yet Colin feels a thrill at the idea. “I—” Her hands tremble slightly as she traces the spot at the base of his neck, hunger swimming in her eyes. “I will not take too much.”

“I trust you.”

She nods. Painfully slowly, she lowers her head, lips brushing along his cheek and then his neck before she settles on the spot she has been caressing. Colin’s hands settle on her waist, feeling the rolls of her body pressed warmly against him. Then he feels them— her teeth on his skin.

He shivers, feeling her hesitation. He caresses her side, encouraging, gentle. He feels her smile but has no time to feel satisfaction as she finally bites. He groans, his grip strengthening around her, he worries he may have imprinted bruises on her porcelain skin. He can feel it, somehow, the blood draining from him, right into Penelope’s very being.

Her body feels warmer against him as the seconds pass. Colin’s vision blurs as something else stirs within him. His heart is beating fast, obnoxiously loud in his ears, and he realises that his member is sure starting to take interest.

At that moment, Penelope stops. He hisses as her fangs leave his neck, exposing the open wound to the cold air. She shushes him, a hand perhaps instinctively going against his mouth as she laps at the wound, gathering every small hint of blood left on his skin.

Their eyes meet again, Penelope’s blue orbs shining with mirth. But then, she tilts her head in confusion. She must see the lust in his eyes, Colin reckons, as he breathes deeply and cannot help but move his hips, grinding against Penelope’s thighs.

“Oh. Poor you,” she says sweetly.

“Pen…” he mumbles against her palm.

“Let me return the favour.”

He is confused for a moment before her free hand travels down his body towards his belt. With an expertise that makes him squirm at the implication, she unbuckles it and brings his cock into the cold spring air. Colin groans.

“Mm. My… victims usually are just terrified, or indifferent. But you… you liked it.”

She grins, her small hand wrapping around his girth with no hesitation. Finally, she frees his mouth as well and Colin wastes no time in bringing their lips together. She gasps as he licks into her mouth, tasting the iron of his own blood on her lips, on her tongue, everywhere.

He moans, openly, freely, as she starts to rub him up and down, a little clumsy, but enthusiastic nonetheless. Penelope sighs against his mouth, pleased, relieved, happy. Her newly freed hand settles on his heart, feeling it beat quicker and quicker, matching its rhythm with her strokes.

Colin pants as he feels his orgasm rush to him with embarrassing speed. With one brush of her thumb on his slit, he lets go, ecstasy blinding his senses as he comes in her hand.

“Thank you,” she says, looking indeed all replenished, skin glowing and eyes bright. She licks the traces of come sticking to her fingers while Colin is still finding his breath. “Sweet dreams, Colin.”

This time, as his mind turns to darkness it feels all too natural, with the honey scent of Penelope surrounding him.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

The days, or rather the nights, go on. Penelope does not visit every night, but when she does, Colin finds himself speechless, getting lost in her touches, the alluring taste of her mouth, and the feel of her skin and body around him.

They still do not talk. Colin still has many questions, and many fears about the nature of their encounters, all of which get drowned by pleasure and crimson lips, before they resurface at the same time the sun rises and Penelope vanishes, leaving in her wake only the trace of her lips on a letter on his desk, proof that what they shared was indeed real.

Finding her during the day remains a hassle. When he calls on her, she is never home, and when he catches a glimpse of her at Number 5, Eloise quickly steals her away, with no regard to Colin’s requests, and the two disappear for hours on end.

On Wednesdays, he could follow her to that orphanage, but she has never shared this with him, and it would feel… odd, insensitive, even, to show up at such a place only to try to speak with her.

Therefore, Colin finds himself in his younger brother’s company once more.

“Well, you look gloomy again,” Gregory comments as he slides a glass towards him. Colin catches it swiftly.

“It is still very weird to think you are old enough to be here, by the way.”

“You are deflecting.”

Colin sighs. “And you are annoying.”

“And I had you as my role model, so who’s to blame?”

“Anthony.”

Gregory rolls his eyes.

“How come she… bit you?” Colin asks eventually after several beats of silence. “How did you even find out?”

“The whole family knows, we’ve been helping her get, well, the blood she needs.”

“Excuse me?!”

Gregory puts his hands up in defence. “I figured you knew too! Otherwise, why would you be so fixated on her lips?”

“Why did no one tell me?!”

“Not sure, it was not exactly a secret. You’re just… never here.” Colin winces at that. “And now you are.”

“That still does not answer my question. She fed from you?”

“I offered. So did Eloise. We have matching marks on the wrist, though they usually heal after a few months, Pen does not need blood as often as we need food. She also refused anyone else’s blood, since they’re married.” Colin does not comment on the fact Hyacinth is left out. “But we helped… other ways as well.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Gregory purses his lips before taking a sip of his drink, stalling the answer. Colin keeps staring, a sense of both foreboding and thrill running through his veins.

“Did you not find it peculiar that some of the most notorious rakes of the Ton all mysteriously disappeared after one dance with her?”

You have no idea what I have done over the years, Colin. You have no idea who stands before you.

Colin finds himself short of breath.

“I… no one noticed?”

“Oh, you know, a rumour of a hunting accident tends to do the trick. No one ever suspects the quiet Featherington or the esteemed Bridgertons. I suppose we must thank our family's reputation.”

The older Bridgerton inhales sharply. Something stirs within him, and he would rather not acknowledge it with Gregory sitting right there.

“You said she does not need blood often but…” he croaks out, barely quenching his sudden thirst by downing his whole drink in one go. Fortunately, Gregory does not notice.

“Actual human blood? At least once every six months, she said. So right about the beginning of the social season and then at the end, unless she wants more. I thought you two talked?”

“It is not so much talking that we do…” Colin mumbles. Penelope finds her rightful place on his neck, takes, gives, and then leaves.

But if she does not need his blood as often as she seems to crave it as soon as they are safe within the closed space of his bedroom…

Gregory scrunches his nose. “I will pretend I did not hear that.”

Colin shrugs one shoulder. “You heard worse from our older brothers.”

“Do not remind me. I still cannot look Kate or Sophie in the eyes sometimes.”

He smiles against his glass. At least, in this ever-changing and confusing world, he finds some familiarity in teasing his brother.

Although he and the rest of his family have hidden pretty significant information about his best friend from him.

One day, he will get back to them. But for now…

“I suppose we will see more of you in the future? Are you staying?” Gregory asks, and somehow the question feels loaded.

“For a very long time, indeed. If she will have me.”

Gregory smiles. “Rooting for you, brother.”

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Penelope is not a brave woman, or at least she does not believe herself to be one.

In her eight and twenty years of life, she has let life pass her by with passive interest. It was difficult to do otherwise when her father sat her down in early childhood to tell her how unfortunately different she was from her sisters because she just so happened to inherit his curse.

“When you will come of age, another type of hunger will rise within you. Do not worry, the staff is already aware and will be prepared.”

“What about Mama?”

“Your mother… would rather ignore that our condition exists. Do not worry, little one, I will be here to guide you. We will have all of eternity.”

But then her father was killed during her first year out in society — so much for eternity with him, she lamented. Publicly, it was said to be a heart attack, her sisters still believe that lie to this day but Penelope knew better. Her father was a notorious gambler, and an excellent one, though his vampiric attributes were to his advantage. With an acute hearing, he could easily tell when an opponent was nervous, adapting his plays accordingly.

And what is more fragile than a man’s ego? Not much, truly. That is how Archibald Featherington found his demise at the hands of prideful men.

Penelope figures she must be at least grateful that their secret was not revealed to the light. As her father had predicted, her mother largely ignored Penelope’s vampiric attributes, pushing her motherly duties onto Mrs Varley who, fortunately, had kept her father’s journals where he detailed how life would be for her. Portia was too relieved to keep her youngest daughter hidden, at the end of the day.

Therefore, Penelope learned about herself through her father’s quill and the books she could find on the subject, dedicating most of her early years in society to adapting to her own body, rather than engaging in the marriage mart. And thus, a wallflower she became, not that she wished for anything else.

Love, for beings like her, is a fickle thing, her father wrote. It never lasts, he assured, and the promise of eternity is but a lie from a mortal’s lips. She knew her parents never truly had love for each other the way Lady and Lord Bridgerton had, but reading the resentment in her father’s writing, as well as seeing the barely hidden disgust in her mother’s eyes, was a brutal reminder of that reality.

The marriage was only convenient. She needed a rich match, I needed a family to blend into London society. I also needed an heir. She understood it as a male heir to the Barony. I meant an heir to my true heritage.

It did not stop her from falling in love, though she was quick to put those feelings aside. Nothing could ever come out of it — outside of her feelings being an unrequited fantasy, she was doomed to live many years more than whoever her heart may yearn for. In the end, only heartbreak would meet her. In the end, she would always be the one to say goodbye.

She made her peace with that.

The Bridgertons decided against it, though. First Eloise, and the rest soon followed, became privy of her secret early on. It was a secret too big for her to keep, especially with her urges becoming more frequent as her body fully developed and she needed to sneak away from events before she jumped on a poor guest.

They accepted her with surprising ease, even when she also shared her desire to avenge her father’s death.

Perhaps it was her thirst for blood speaking that day, but once the idea was spoken out loud, she knew she needed to see it through to the end. And the list was quite long.

Perhaps she should have been worried at how eagerly Eloise, Daphne and Francesca — and later Gregory and Hyacinth when they were old enough — were to help her lure the unsuspecting rakes of the Ton. Even Violet seemed ecstatic, meanwhile, Anthony and Benedict seemed more reluctant — perhaps because they once would have been within Penelope’s targets, but they wisely looked away and pretended to be clueless about the ordeal.

The family’s reputation and Penelope’s talent at blending into the crowd and disappearing made it easier to pass those mysterious deaths as mere accidents of fate.

The same way her father’s death had been reported.

Life was not perfect, but Penelope was content. Over the years, the Bridgertons dispersed, finding the loves of their lives and moving away from London. Soon, only Eloise, Gregory and Hyacinth remained. Penelope knew that the next time she blinked, they could all be gone.

And then there was Colin.

Her Colin, she liked to think once. The first Bridgerton she met, riding that horse she inadvertently made him fall from. It was a miracle no major injury was sustained, although he bled through his sleeves and it made her pre-teen self swallow with guilt and, Lord forbid, hunger. But then, he laughed, and her heart burst open.

She knew from that moment on that whatever years she would get to live, Colin Bridgerton would forever haunt her as her first, and perhaps her only love.

It was almost a blessing that out of all his siblings, Colin was the one who developed a love for the outside world soon after entering society, so she rarely ever saw him as the years went on, especially after hearing him declare so loudly that he would never marry her to his brothers. It was easier that way — she had no intention of marrying anyhow, even if she did not have those feelings torturing her heart. She could not. She refused to live like her parents. She would be content disappearing one day into the countryside as an oddly old spinster that people write tales about. Her father had left her a significant inheritance, separate from the Featherington Barony, that would allow her to run elsewhere and build a new life.

For all his faults, he at least made certain that she had the choice of living a different life than the one he had for himself.

And yet, she remained in London, because every year, without fail, Colin came back for the social season, and would always seek her out at every event. He would dance with her, make her laugh, call her special, and so very dear to him. It was enough to make a woman hope, and hope is one dangerous weapon, especially one she knew with no use in the end.

Therefore, she made her decision. This year would be her last, and soon she would forsake the name Featherington to start a new life.

I’ve had many names over the years, ones I cannot remember any longer. Her father wrote. No place ever felt like I belonged, therefore I kept moving. Eventually, London became… something interesting and Portia was an unusual and intriguing woman. I stayed. I believed I could settle. But I knew, that if one of our children turned out to be like me, that one day, I would leave again, this time just not alone.

She told Eloise, who smiled and promised to visit and join her as soon as her mother would finally stop hoping she might still find a match. Hyacinth hugged her and made her promise to write every week. Gregory jokingly proposed to her to make her stay and Penelope pinched his cheek for his adorableness.

She could not find the courage to tell Colin. A part of her simply assumed he would not care anyhow, he who is so little in London. And yet, that evening, perhaps it was Violet’s question about settling down that made her ache again, but she let go of her fears and doubts. When Colin sought her out in the garden, she asked for the one thing she always craved for, because over the years, somehow, she had never been kissed.

She did other things, to lure rakes into the dark woods near Aubrey Hall. Men are easy creatures, she had learned, a caress down there, a seductive smile and a slightly lower voice, and they fall like autumn leaves. The perfect distraction before she could lunge and drain them. They are all driven by lust, which makes their blood all the sweeter before it turns dull as fear overtakes them. They were so eager to get pleasure, and not so much to give or share, which is why they made such easy targets as well.

Penelope still craved the taste of a sweet kiss, though, and if she had to spend the rest of her long life alone, she wanted to experience it at least once. Perhaps it would be her biggest regret.

She could not predict the next turn of events. She knew her crush never truly vanished, but she did not expect her body to sing for him. Instincts took over and to her surprise, it was a different kind of thirst she had when drinking from others. It was a burden with them, a task as simple as eating to survive, she simply needed it to be done, and fast, but with Colin, her movements were slower, more hesitant perhaps. With Colin, she wanted to make it last.

And what a terrifying thought. It was in her very nature that everything she touches cannot last.

So she came back every other night. Colin seemed eager to welcome her every time, but he did not think she was real, she could tell with the mesmerised glint in his eyes, and it made her stop before she would give in. The kisses were enough. They had to be. It was not love, it could not be.

Then everything was cleared up and he still wanted her. He asked her to bite him. To let go.

So she did. Again, and again, and again. And when he mentioned needing to talk, she flew, afraid that it would mark the end of this whole mess.

And she knew it would be her downfall.

Penelope is not a brave woman. She is greedy, ruined and selfish.

But someone else may disagree.

And that night, she is reminded that she remains a woman made for love.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Knocks on her window make her jump, and she almost screams when she turns around to see Colin somehow there, perched on the branch of the tree near her house.

“Have you gone mad?! Again!” she whisper-shouts as she opens the window and Colin wastes no time jumping into her bedroom, bringing a few leaves and twigs in his wake.

“My mind has never been clearer, Pen,” Colin grins that easy-going charming smile of his. “I have something to ask you.”

Under the moonlight, Penelope has always felt more at peace, empowered in a way the sun could never offer. As it turns out, Colin finds that the night emboldens him as well.

He strides the few steps separating him from Penelope and promptly drops on one knee.

“Marry me.”

Penelope gasps, taking a step back to observe the man before her. Framed perfectly as he is by her open window, it allows the full moon to shine brightly upon him, casting an ethereal blue tint upon his dark curls. A subtle breeze graces the night, her curtains swaying gently to its rhythm around Colin, a vision from her romantic reveries.

And so it pains her to utter her next words.

“Colin we cannot.”

Undeterred, Colin presses on. “But do you want to?”

“... Do not do this to me, Colin.”

He shakes his head and reaches for her hand. Against all the voices in her head, she lets him, fingers curling naturally around his warm palm.

“Talk to me, Penelope.”

The urge to run grips her very being once more but this time Colin does not let go. He must have felt her hand tremble in his grip. He stands up, bringing an arm around her waist, pressing their bodies together. He whirls them around so he may sit on the bed, Penelope standing before him, now at even level for their foreheads to gently rest against each other.

She inhales deeply. A familiar position, one that renders her so weak for his touches.

“Is it… Did your family tell you? That I planned on leaving after this season? Is this why you are proposing so suddenly?” she asks eventually, meeting Colin’s forest green orbs, shining with an intensity she still is not used to.

His muscles tense under her hands. “... You wished to leave?” That is a no, then. “Why would you…”

“I have a long life ahead of me, Colin, and spending it in London has never been my plan.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“... Eventually,” she lies.

He doesn’t believe her, it is evident in his eyes and the way his lips press into a stern line.

“Talk to me.”

It is not so much a request anymore, but rather a blatant and tired demand. Penelope’s shoulders sag, guilt piercing her heart for the torment she must have put her friend in.

“I apologise,” she whispers. “It is just… I cannot do this to you, Colin.” Her hands slide from his shoulders to his face, feeling Colin melt under her touch. “I am already taking so much from you— I cannot curse you with eternity too.”

It is possible to tie a mortal’s life to ours, but it is a process that cannot be overturned. They remain partially human, they simply stop ageing as long as the vampire does not die. She recalls reading in her father’s writings. The target must simply drink back from the vampire. It cannot be forced, the ritual will fail if the soul is not willing. But mortals are indecisive. Many dream of eternity only to wither through the years and beg for death.

“And what if I wanted eternity with you?” Colin asks, an unbearable softness to his voice.

“You do not know what you speak of.”

“I do. I have been agonising over this for the past few weeks, Penelope.”

“A life with me means an eternity of loneliness.”

Colin gives her a bemused look. “Absolutely not, since I would be with you. That is the very opposite of loneliness.”

“But your family—”

“Know about you, about my feelings, and would understand.”

“We will need to constantly move, with nowhere to call home.”

“Home does not need to be a place. There is a reason I keep coming back, and though I love my family, it is not because of them.” Penelope is ready to argue, but he shushes her by stealing a kiss. “Do not. Half of them do not even live in London anymore.”

Penelope cannot refute that indeed.

“Perhaps the better question would be… Penelope Featherington, would you make me yours?”

The air becomes charged after those words are uttered.

Her teeth ache, as he cranes his neck, the traces of her last bite peeking beneath his cravat. A monstrous growl almost escapes her at the mere fact it is hidden, and she is able to stifle it through a cough.

“N-Not tonight,” she says.

“Is that a yes for later, then?” Colin says eagerly, arms still wrapped around her, refusing to let go.

“I need you to be sure, Colin.”

“I am, darling.” He smiles with a tenderness that makes her non-beating heart swoon. He kisses the palm of her hand. “You have been my constant in life. The light within the dark that kept guiding me back home, back to you. I suppose I never… questioned it twice, I always assumed that however long I went away, you would be here to welcome me. I love you, and if I can be blessed with eternity with you, exploring the world anew, then I would be a fool to refuse.”

“Will you not grow bored?”

“Bored! Pen, we have known each other for almost twenty years, that is a crazy long time, all things considered, and I am still learning new exciting things about you, and myself. An eternity of constantly surprising each other, is that not exciting?”

Piece by piece, she can feel the walls around her soul crumble.

“I love you,” she laughs as she lets herself fall against him, making them both tumble into the mattress. Colin carefully manoeuvers them so she is the one lying down on the bed, with him hovering over her, her arms still wrapped around his neck, keeping him close. “Now I feel like the one who’s dreaming.”

Colin hums. “Then allow me to fulfil your fantasies, now,” he says, voice lowered. The laughter dies on her tongue as she takes on the serious look in his eyes, and she can hear his heartbeat more intensely. Her vision goes hazy for a moment as all her senses get attuned to Colin’s body.

She can have him, her heart sings, all of him, body and soul. Why should she wait, in the end?

“Let me show you… how certain I am. Let me return the favour?” As he speaks, one of his hands slowly travels from her waist to the back of her knees, lifting the skirt of her nightgown in his wake.

Penelope breathes in. “Well… first I would need to tell you what I need, wouldn’t I?”

Colin smiles, tilting his head. It is a thing he only ever does with her, Penelope muses with wonder. “I’m listening,” he whispers. “What do you need, darling?”

A thrill runs through her body at the question — the very question which started their nightly escapades.

“I need you inside me. I want it slow, but purposeful, I want to feel all of you and feel you come undone as I bite you.”

If he is surprised by her frankness or her mere knowledge of sexual acts, she who is supposed to be an innocent lady of the Ton, he does not let it show. His breath falters but he quickly regains himself, offering her a bright smile.

“You are a right wonder,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her. For long minutes, it is all they do, exchange languid kisses in which Penelope teasingly bites his lower lip whenever he pulls back slightly to breathe.

Soon, she feels his hand slide around her thigh to seek her most intimate part. She gasps softly as his large hand cups her.

“You are soaked already…” Colin whispers in wonder as he starts to rub circles. She whines, lifting her hips to match his movements. “Eager…”

“It has been a while,” she admits then quickly slaps a hand on her mouth. “I— I mean—”

Colin purses his lips. “Then I shall prove myself better, so it is not just my blood you will relentlessly crave,” he says.

“Cocky, are we?”

He bites his lips, visibly holding himself back from another retort, and just as Penelope is about to call him out on it, she feels a finger prod at her entrance before sliding in, oh too naturally, before another one joins in.

That is when Penelope realises they are still too dressed, or at least, Colin is. As he starts thrusting his fingers in her, accompanied by expert stimulation of her bundle of nerves, she starts clawing at his shirt and cravat, threatening to tear them apart. Eventually, she manages to get his cravat off, at the very least, freeing his neck. She licks her lips, eyes focused on her mark on his skin.

She can feel his gaze on him, tracking every one of her expressions, of her movements. His fingers slow as if waiting for her next move, and as she tugs at his sleeves, he understands. He pulls away briefly, getting rid of his shirt with one hand, throwing it over his shoulder and across the room, before he is on her again.

His fingers resume their work to Penelope’s utter pleasure, alternating between careful caresses and enthusiastic thrusts. She feels it build steadily, that heat within her, and she can sense it in him too. Her hands dance across the hair on his chest, listening to his heart beat with fervour, feeling his blood flow throughout his body and most importantly, down there. She smiles slightly as he, most certainly unconsciously, starts to grind against her thighs, desperation building.

“Colin,” she calls against his lips. He halts his movements, a bit too abruptly to her taste. She pouts. “I need you, now.”

He wastes no time executing himself, her Colin. With one more kiss before parting, he pulls away, but only for a moment as he frees himself from his breeches, which also find their place at the foot of the bed. With Colin now completely naked in front of her, she realises she, on the other hand, is still fully clothed. And she quite likes it.

“Next time,” she promises, upon noticing Colin’s slightly disappointed look upon noticing she is not moving at all to remove her nightgown. “Only my husband shall see everything.”

Colin laughs softly. “I will procure a special licence, then.” He crawls on top of her again, and she feels his length throb between her thighs and shivers. “Are you ready?” he asks.

She licks her lips. “Are you?” she asks, flashing her fangs, recalling the way her bites affect him like it has affected no other man. He draws in a shaky breath and nods.

She wraps her legs around his waist as he positions himself and thrusts in one smooth glide. Penelope moans, stifling her sounds immediately on his skin, not quite biting yet, but tempted to. He groans against her, mouth lapping at her chest, for every inch of skin he can reach, as he builds a steady rhythm.

“You feel heavenly, Pen,” Colin meowls. “Warm, sweet, perfect.”

Penelope sighs deeply with each thrust, matching his movement, ears ringing with the sound of Colin’s breath, his heart, his blood, his pleasure. It is all so much, and yet not enough at once.

Then one of Colin’s hands reaches for her clit during one particular thrust and she almost screams. The only reason she does not is because she bites down on Colin’s neck instead, his blood flooding her mouth.

His hips stutter, before they renew in vigour, chasing that high. Penelope loses herself, an animalistic instinct taking over as she bites and nibbles at every inch of skin available to her as she feels her pleasure overwhelm her.

“Colin,” she moans, “Colin, now—”

His thrusts lose their careful rhythm as he gives in to the chase. She tries to follow, but all she can do is hold on, lay back and let him take, take and take, the way she has taken and taken and taken from him.

Soon enough, her vision blurs as her pleasure overflows. She moans, and so does he, eyes never leaving her face as she clenches around him at the same time she can feel his seeds plant within her.

With laboured breath, they remain connected as such for long minutes, before eventually, Colin collapses on her side, fingers tracing the numerous new marks across his skin.

“Good Lord, darling, you devoured me,” he says, before kissing her like tomorrow did not exist.

She laughs against his mouth, wiggling her hips, trying to ignore her disappointment at the sudden emptiness there. “You’re welcome.”

He hums. “I… should go before the sun rises.”

“You should.”

“I do not want to.”

“Me neither.”

And so they do not move and fall asleep entangled together.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

They are married within the next week through a special licence. They did not get caught that night, surprisingly enough, Colin was simply impatient, and he is too in love to even be ashamed about it.

Neither he nor Penelope desired a big celebration of a wedding anyhow, not when they knew that they would soon embark on a ritual far more binding than a wedding could ever be.

But it is a bit underwhelming, Colin thinks, as Penelope hands him a chalice with some of her blood within. And nothing else.

“Is that all?” he questions. “Seems… awfully easy.”

“Not everything can be as seductive as those books say,” Penelope says. “I can bite your wrist at the same time if you prefer.”

“Do that, and we are not leaving this room for another week again.”

She snorts. “Well then.” She grabs a glass, this one he knows to be full of wine, as she clinks it against his chalice. “To our eternity?”

“To our eternity,” he confirms and drinks.

He blinks as sweetness greets his tongue, rather than the stale iron taste blood usually bears. His eyes flicker to Penelope, whose eyes twinkle as she smiles.

“Sweet, isn’t it?” she hums around her glass. “Only mine will taste as such to you.”

“Is that how I taste to you?” he asks.

“You now know why I lost my mind a little,” his wife chuckles. She beckons him closer. “Here, hold my hand, close your eyes and concentrate.”

Confused, Colin follows her instructions. He holds her hands with both of his, smiling a little upon feeling her wedding ring against his palm. That is when he hears it— two unified beating hearts. His, and hers.

“But you said your heart…” he trails off.

“You are half of me, as I am half of you now.” Her crimson lips form the lovely smile he fell in love with years ago. “Sweet, isn’t it?”

Colin cannot help but agree. He leans down to get a sweet kiss indeed from her. “Not as sweet as you.”

Penelope beams at him, eyes bright. He shall cherish that sight forever.

And how lucky is he that he does have forever ahead of him.

#bridgerton #polin #bridgerton fic #colin x penelope #my fics #polinween 2024

23 notes · View notes